Lena
I’m putting in extra hours (again) to help clean up the mess from the function. The school has been closed all week, and naturally, it’s the teachers and staff that have to put everything back together.
The whole school was completely trashed. Not only did the Wylde Ones rampage through the school gym, but after a while they moved through the whole school itself. Glass was the first thing we had to clean up; so many windows were broken that it’s been a miracle finding a classroom with its windows intact. Doors were busted down, graffiti tagged onto the walls…
It makes me sad, seeing the school in such a state, especially knowing that replacing all of this is going to be nearly impossible.
No one wants to go after the Wylde Ones for what happened. I don’t blame them. This is the first time something like this has happened with them, and no one knows how to deal with it. Least of all myself.
I haven’t heard from Booster all this time. The only thing I know is that I believe with all my heart that he didn’t have anything to do with this. He was too surprised and too caught off guard by what happened to have been directly involved in any of this.
Which begs the question.
Where is he?
It makes me worry. I know that he hasn’t been arrested; the cops haven’t actively arrested anyone, and considering the fact they can’t get solid IDs on anyone, I don’t think they’re going to. None of the kids or adults were actually hurt. There’s a lot in property damages, but even the people who’ve had their cars or personal belongings ruined aren’t willing to go up against a motorcycle club like that. I can’t say I blame them.
So what is Booster doing? I have my thoughts on this as I sweep the parking lot, looking to collect up any glass that’s laying around.
“So, this all has been pretty crazy, huh?”
I look up. Principal Walters has come up to speak to me. I frown. He, like others, has avoided me this whole time. I know that it’s because of Booster. It wasn’t very hard to put two and two together for the people that didn’t realize just which motorcycle club he belonged to. For some reason, it’s made them hesitant to speak to me. What used to be a source of interest and wow is now a source of contention and hesitance from others.
If they knew Booster like I do, they would know that he didn’t have anything to do with this. But they don’t, so I suppose I can’t fault them for that.
I turn my attention back to the remaining stray glass that’s on the ground.
“Yeah, it’s been pretty crazy,” I agree. “But I think we’re doing a good job at cleaning up. We’ll get back on track.”
“Yeah … back on track … I actually wanted to speak with you about that, Lena.” I raise my brow.
“Oh?”
“Many of us have been talking,” he says, “about your … connections with the … individuals responsible with all of this. We have some concerns—”
“Why would you be concerned?” I ask him. “I have nothing to do with the Wylde Ones.”
“You’re involved with their leader.”
“He had nothing to do with this. You’ll notice how he wasn’t getting in on the action of everything that night?”
I hear Principal Walters bristle at that, giving a little scoff.
“Well, be that as it may, there’s still the fact that there’s some very obvious, very lasting damage that’s gone on here. And we’re worried—”
“That what, I’m going to encourage it? That I condone it?”
“Well, we’re more worried that this will be a reoccurring thing, if you’re involved with this man. Whether or not he was directly involved is irrelevant; it’s pretty coincidental that the school you happen to work at was targeted, and he’s the man you’re involved with, no?”
Ah. So, we’ve gotten to the heart of the matter.
Part of me wants to be angry, and I think in some ways, I am. This is ludicrous. I’m one of the most dedicated teachers at this school. On the other … I know that most of the others (meaning not Principal Walters) are likely truly worried about the safety of the kids. I know I am.
“Principal Walters—”
Before I can anything, there’s a familiar, rolling thunder of an engine.
The tension for those working in the parking lot is palpable. That’s the sound of a motorcycle, the current source of our anxieties. Almost everyone stops, looks up, and every head turns in horror.
I, however, find myself relieved. It’s Booster.
He’s come alone, and while he’s not apprehensive, I can tell there’s a certain kind of tension that’s on him. He’s not sure about being here, and I can understand why. Most, if not all, of the people that are here right now don’t want him here. Most, if not all, of the people feel that he’s single handedly responsible for the events that took place.
But they don’t know Booster like I do.
I know that he could have never orchestrated something like that.
It’s a surety that, upon first meeting Booster, I wouldn’t have had. But now, it’s different. Now, I’m carrying Booster’s child, and there’s a bond there that no one else here will be able to understand. I accept that.
I look on for a long moment. I can tell he’s looking for me; as soon as our eyes meet, it’s as though no one else around us matter. There’s a small communication in that look—he wonders, I can tell, if I’m going to spurn him.
I know that everyone else wants me to, but instead of doing what everyone else wants, I go to him. He looks miserable. Closer, there are bags under his eyes, as though he’s lost a lot of sleep wondering and worrying over something. It has me reaching out to him, running my fingers along his cheek. Booster sighs and leans into the touch.
“Hey,” I say softly.
“Hey.”
“You’re all right.”
“Relatively speaking.”
I embrace him on his bike in full view of everyone. That’s all that matters right now—letting Booster know that he’s not alone, and more as well in letting the onlookers know in no uncertain terms where I stand—which is with Booster.
I hear the gasps, and the slight swearing at my actions. Openly, I kiss Booster.
“This is pretty damn brave of you, doll,” he murmurs against my lips.
I smirk a little.
“Let’s get out of here.”
We head out on the bike to the same secluded spot we went to months ago. Booster doesn’t tell me where we’re going when I slide onto his bike, but I know by the trail that we’re heading to the little overlook. Though the day was tainted by the (misinformed) discovery that I made in his jacket, I’ve held the sentiment of the gesture in my heart since that day.
It’s only fitting that we come back here at a time like this.
When we get there, Booster parks his bike. We stand in silence side by side, overlooking the valley. It’s the middle of the day, so there’s no rolling fog covering the bottom of it. I watch cars drive by every now and then on the road in the little valley neighborhood, and wonder how many more times I’m going to stand here with Booster, contemplating my place in life.
“I’ve been thinking,” he says finally, “a lot over the last few days.”
“About?”
“The future. Us. Everything.”
He tells me about the discovery that he made, about his vice president, and the woman that his VP is with. It’s all … very shocking to me. I hadn’t expected that kind of drama and backstabbing to be present in a motorcycle club. I hadn’t expected Booster to be in the middle of it all, but it does explain why he didn’t know about any of this.
“I’ve always been a part of a club,” he says to me, leaning over the railing of the overlook. “I’ve never not had that solidarity … that comradery. But before I even met you I knew that I was growing apart from things. The Wylde Ones … they follow me. They listen to me. I think most of them even respect me, but it’s not enough. I don’t want what they want.” He shakes his head.
“And even then, I would deal with it, you know? I would stick around with it, but there’s nothing anymore tethering me to them. Not the memories of the good things—and now this shit with Happy. If I’m not around, what I say and the way that I lead isn’t taken into consideration. And it’s not a me thing, I’ve realized. It’s them. All of them.
“Learning what I did about what Happy did … It was the last straw. I could have stayed … maybe even would have. But with you … the baby…”
Booster trails off, his brow furrowed and his bottom lip worrying between his teeth. I can tell that what he’s going through right now is hard for him; this is a big life change that he’s implying.
I rest my hand on his shoulder. I hope that I can soothe him, and I measure my words in my head before I can speak them.
“Booster … Do you think maybe you were always looking for something more than the club and you didn’t realize it? With the child … me … Everything that we’ve been going through. Maybe it’s not the other way around. Maybe this is what you’ve always wanted and now you’re finally getting it. All that stuff with Happy is just a confirmation that you’re making the right choice. They’re not your family … but I could be. This baby could be. We could be a family together.”
He makes something of a surprised noise.
“I never thought about it like that before.”
I smile a little.
“I think you’ve always wanted family … I mean, you were always really passionate when you were talking about your aunt and uncle? And it’s been so long since you’ve had something like that, you know.”
I lean against him, pressing my lips to his shoulder lightly. “Booster … would it be so bad … raising this baby outside of the MC?”
It’s been something that I’ve toyed around with, honestly, before this. This incident definitely compounded that into my brain, though. Was it something that I wanted to bring a child into the world in? Was it something that I wanted my child around, actively?
No.
Knowing that Booster has had his doubts reassures me that at least I’m not alone in this.
“I don’t think I want to—no. No, I know I don’t want to,” he says finally. “I don’t know if I ever did. Maybe I was using wanting a kid as an heir for an excuse to start on something that would take me out of the MC … I don’t know.” Booster looks down at me. “Does it make you think any less of me?”
I shake my head.
“Booster … If there’s anything that’s going to make me think less of you, it’s definitely not going to involve you doing something for a family.” I smile up at him. “So … now that we’ve got that established … What’s next?”
He thinks for a moment, and grins down at me.
“I have one last loose end to tie.”