The Anarchist's Heart

I had never felt déjà vu like that before. It almost made me want to be sick, but maybe that was just my nerves. Or, I suppose it could’ve been the swirl of memories that quickly overtook me as soon as we drove past that old, familiar sign: Welcome to Charming.

I stared out my passenger side window at the trees and houses as we blew past them. Some of the houses were new, while others weren’t, and I remembered them from my childhood. I wondered if the same people still lived there or not. I realized I’d been gone for nearly ten years; there was a lot about Charming that had changed in that time. With a sad little pang in my chest, I remembered that there were probably a lot of people who had changed, too.

We pulled down a side street and Alexander parked along the sidewalk in front of a two-year-old three-storey house. I looked up at it and admired its dark grey siding and stone face, as well as the large bay window in the front room, the solar panels on the roof, and the convenient patio that needed to be painted but still looked just right. This was my new home, and it was located in the same town I’d grown up in and run away from so long ago.

“You coming, babe?” Alexander asked before he shut the driver’s door.

I gathered my purse and stepped out of our rented moving vehicle. I paused on the sidewalk and stared at the house some more. As beautiful as it was, I couldn’t help the heavy feeling in the pit of my gut. I’d run so far away from this place and I’d just ended up back in it. A familiar face from my past kept floating into my head and I tried my best to push it away but it wouldn’t go. So when Alexander walked up to me and kissed my cheek I felt guilt scold me from the inside out.

He slipped the keys into my palm. “You go in and check it out; I’ll start bringing more stuff in from the van.”

I watched him walk away from me around the back of the moving van. I was so thankful for him. He’d been working so hard all week, moving the bigger things into our new home with help from a few family friends while I’d stayed at my parent’s house in Oakland. I’d told him I’d be willing to help but he’d refused me, saying he wanted it to be mostly a surprise when I got there. We still had a few little things to bring it in, like dozens of suitcases full of clothes, blankets, kitchen necessities, pictures and more to really make it feel like a home. And while I was fully capable of bringing those into the house he still insisted I go on ahead and explore. He was far too good for me.

I smiled at the sparkling diamond ring on my left hand as I thought of him and walked up to the front door. I slipped the key into the lock and listened to the satisfying click as it worked. I pushed down on the door handle and opened it. At first, I was taken aback. It looked beautiful inside. The floor was a mahogany hardwood in the front room and the sunlight poured in through the large windows. The tall tree in the front yard cast an intricate shadow on the large grey, white, and black rug that all the leather furniture sat on. The walls were a warm, welcoming colour, and from the door I could see the kitchen a few feet in front of me to the left, and the dining room to the right. The floor was a grey stone tile in those areas, which I was thankful for. If we had hardwood in there it would get ruined, especially if I was going to be cooking meals. I was kind of dangerous that way.

“What do you think?” Alexander asked, walking up beside me with two suitcases in tow.

“It’s gorgeous,” I replied. “But exploring can wait. Please, let me help you bring stuff in.”

“Aw, you don’t have to, you know. I can manage.”

“No, I want to help.”

“Alright, if you insist.”

It must have been three hours before we had everything out of the van and given all of it a place in our new home. By the time it was finished I was all set for a glass of wine from a box and a nap, but Alexander had other plans.

“Why don’t you take me out and show me around your town?” he begged with that huge grin on his handsome face.

“I don’t know how much I can show you,” I responded. “I’ve been gone for nearly ten years, Alex. This place has changed a little in that time.”

“It can’t have changed that much! C’mon, Liz, I want to get to know the town I’m going to call home from now on.”

“Okay, okay, just let me go to the bathroom first.”

I slipped down the hallway into one of the smaller bathrooms, shutting the door behind me. I leaned on the granite countertop and sighed, looking up at myself in the mirror. At least I didn’t look as haggard as I felt. My long, ash blonde hair was still in perfect waves down past my chest. The dark circles under my eyes were still hidden behind my makeup but it didn’t stop my slate grey eyes from looking dull and tired. I shook my head and turned on the sink, letting the cool water run over my hands. Nerves were bundling up in my gut at the thought of wandering around Charming. What if I saw someone I once knew? What if I saw the one face I kept seeing in my head? I didn’t know how I’d handle that. I didn’t think I could.

I showed Alexander Main Street with all its little shops, and I showed him the park, and my old school, and all my little hideouts from my past. He had so many questions about it all. I guess I never really told him much about my childhood. He’d seen some baby pictures, but that was all. I didn’t really like talking about my past, because it reminded me of the one person that was so tightly linked to it. It hurt to think about it.

Eventually we wandered down a street that was a little more shadowed, a little dirtier, than all the rest. I knew it well. I’d spent a lot of my time on this street as a teenager. I swallowed a heavy lump and my hand slipped a little bit out of Alexander’s. He barely noticed, though. He’d caught sight of the one place I was hoping he wouldn’t see.

“Teller-Morrow Automotive,” he read. “I didn’t know there was an automotive shop here! I was hoping there was, but I didn’t know…let’s go check it out!”

I sighed but I couldn’t tell him no. If I refused, he’d want to know why and I didn’t want to have to explain that to him. It was a history too long and too complex for me to sum up and I knew he’d only have more questions afterwards. So I let him drag me past the gate and up the pavement towards the shop. A gruff looking young man in a blue mechanic suit with a nametag sewed onto his chest walked up to us. He had a shock of jet black hair on his head and he wiped it out of his eyes with the back of his hand. He was wringing a dirty blue cloth with his hands and I wasn’t sure if it the California sun that was making him squint at us or if it was suspicion.

“Can I help you two?” he asked.

“Hi, I’m Alexander Wilson and this is my fiancée, Elizabeth. We’re new to town, or at least I am. I just thought I’d come take a look at the setup here. I’ve got an Audi that needs an oil change and the windshield has some cracks in it that I should get filled.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Lance. We can definitely do that for you. Do you wanna book an appointment now to bring it in?”

“That’d be awesome,”

Lance waved at Alex to follow him into the shop. Alex looked at me, wondering if I’d follow, but I motioned for him to go ahead. I didn’t want to go inside. I was already feeling like a wild dog trapped in a cage.

I was looking at an old half-ton truck with peeling paint when I heard the rumble of a Harley-Davidson behind me. I froze up immediately. I didn’t want to turn around because I was scared of who I’d see. But when the engine cut off I went against my common sense and turned around anyways and I saw exactly what I was scared of. I saw a man on a dark ride, removing a helmet to reveal his shaggy blonde hair that fell down onto the back of a leather cut proclaiming SONS OF ANARCHY – CALIFORNIA. The words framed a smiling reaper. My heart leapt into my throat and fell to the ground at the same time. I felt like I was a kid again and I started to walk towards him. I wanted to hug him, I wanted him to tell me stories like he used to, even though a part of me knew he wasn’t that boy anymore. He was a Son now, just like he said he was going to be all those years ago.

I stopped halfway and I almost ran out of the parking lot. But I knew he was more likely to follow me if I looked suspicious. I was already so close to him; I had to keep going, I told myself. So I did. I walked right up to the back of the bike he was still seated on. Plumes of cigarette smoke emitted from him and got caught up in the breeze. I wondered if his face would look any different when he turned around.

I opened my mouth and at first my tongue was glued to the roof of my mouth. I couldn’t speak; I could hardly breathe. It annoyed me. It’d been ten years; he shouldn’t have that hold on me still. He wasn’t mine anymore and I wasn’t his.

“Jax…?” I asked. I regretted it as soon as I said it.

My voice was quiet and shaky but he heard me. He looked over his shoulder first, with a cigarette grasped between his lips, and then he got off of his bike. He stood before me and I could see the confusion in his face. I felt like crying, myself. He looked almost the same as he had ten years ago, if not a little more cut up and with significantly more facial hair. His eyes were still that same icy blue, my favourite colour. He looked tired but dominate at the same time. An array of rings decorated his hands. He was truly a Son. His leather cut even proclaimed Vice President on his chest. I took a small step back.

“It’s me,” I murmured. I could see the name in his face, like he wanted it to be me but he wasn’t sure. I had changed some, too, I suppose.

“Ella?” he whispered. Oh, I’d forgotten how my name sounded when it was caught up in his voice. It sent a strange shiver down my spine. His helmet slipped from his hand and landed with a dull thud on the cracked cement.

I nodded and offered him a shy smile. “Hello, Jackson.”

“Oh, shit,” he breathed, running a hand through his small beard. Suddenly, he leapt over the metal bar separating us and I gasped, stepping back again. I didn’t know what he was going to do. He was so different.

“Ella,” he said again, before pulling me into him and hugging me tightly.

I breathed in the smell of leather, exhaust, and his cologne, and heaved a sigh of relief before hugging him back. He wouldn’t hurt me. He didn’t still hate me for leaving him. For that moment, he was the Jax I used to know. And that made me so happy I could cry.

He pulled away and looked at me, taking me in. I smiled up at my best friend; the first boy I’d ever loved. He was so perfect; so warm. I’d missed him so much.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “You said you’d never come back here.”

I looked down shamefully at the words I’d yelled to him all those years ago. He still remembered that night. I wondered if he thought about it often.

“Yeah, I know…I guess this town has a way of sucking you back in. I should’ve known I could never escape it.” I said softly.

He nodded slowly and looked me up and down. He didn’t say anything.

“I, uh, I’m a teacher now. I teach art to high school students, so I’ll be doing that here. I only came back because Alexander got offered a job here, really good pay, too. He’s an orthodontist—”

“Who’s Alexander?” Jax interjected icily.

“Oh, he’s, um, he’s my fiancé.” I responded. I said the title like it was a dirty sin.

Jax’s face fell. He looked confused for a moment but it disappeared shortly. He nodded after that, like he was trying to accept it just because I was standing right there. I could tell he was having plenty of difficulty swallowing that little bitter pill.

“I see,” he said. “Is he here?”

“Y-yeah, he’s booking an appointment to get his car looked at. Look, Jax, I didn’t come here to rub that in your face. I actually didn’t—”

“No, its okay, I know.” Jax said. “I’m just…I’m happy you’re back, Ella. We should catch up sometime. It’s been awhile. You look great, I…it’s just really great to see you again. Y’know, Ope would love to see you too I bet. He’s around here somewhere…”

“Yeah…Jax, I don’t think catching up would be a good idea,” I said softly. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to see you’re doing well. But I just…I have a life with Alex now, and it’s a good one. I didn’t come back to Charming to dig up old bones. I was hoping I wouldn’t run into you…I didn’t want to have to say these things to you all over again. But, um, give Opie my best, would you?”

“What’s the real reason you don’t want to be around me, Ella?” Jax asked stonily. “You told me the harsh truth ten years ago, you can tell it now.”

I took a deep breath and folded my arms over my chest, hugging myself.

“We’re not kids anymore, Jax. Look at you. You’re…different. I’m different. With all of our history, I just don’t think it’d be a good idea to revisit any of it. And if we spend time together it’s bound to happen at some point. I just can’t take that risk, not with you, and not at the sake of Alex.” I said. I looked at the ground the entire time. I was too cowardly to look him in the eye.

“Alright,” he said acidly. “That’s fine. I’ll stay out of your hair and I’ll keep the MC away from you, I promise. But answer me this, Ella. Do you still have it?”

I looked up at him to find him entirely serious. I couldn’t lie to him, not when he was looking at me like that. I’d never been able to lie to him when he looked like that. So I nodded, placing a gentle hand over my right hipbone, where the letter J was encased in the outline of a tattoo heart. In my head pictures of the night we got them flashed like a slideshow. It’d been done stick-and-poke style, in Jax’s old bedroom. He’d given me mine and I’d given him his. We’d swallowed whiskey and smoked a couple joints while we’d done it to take some of the pain away. That had been one of my favourite memories with him for a long time. We’d smiled so much that night. We had been so in love we thought we would be together forever.

“So do I.” he replied back in a whisper.

For some strange reason, that made me happy. He still had the E on his hip. I’d thought out of the two of us, he’d be the most likely to cover it up with something else right away. After all, I’d been the one to leave him.

“Lizzie, babe, you ready to go?” I heard Alex call for me and I turned around to smile at him. He was waving me over.

“I better go,” I said. I looked him over and smiled as kindly as I could, given that I basically just told him I didn’t want to see his face ever again, for the second time. “It was nice seeing you again, Jackson. I’m happy you’re well.”

He smiled back at me, albeit bitterly, and said, “Yeah, you too. Have a nice life, Ella.”

That remark cut me deep. Those had been the last words I’d spoken to him before I’d left this town behind. I had hoped, when I’d said it, that it would persuade him to stay away from me. I’d hoped it would hurt him and put him off ever wanting anything to do with me. Clearly it’d had some effect; he obviously hadn’t forgotten them to this day.

I looked down and walked away from him, back to Alexander. I let Alex slip his arm around my waist and pull me close as we walked out of the parking lot. My face was burning with shame. I’d hoped so badly I wouldn’t see him because I knew I’d go to him immediately. After all these years, Jax Teller was still my safety blanket. He was still my best friend and I still held him up on a damn pedestal, even though he wasn’t the same as he had been. Now he had a leather cut and a Harley. Now he was an outlaw with a criminal record, just like Clara had said he would be all those years ago. Instead of keeping me safe with his arms and his smile, he’d likely do it with a gun and bloodshed, if I knew anything about the Sons of Anarchy motorcycle club. He was terrifying to me now, and despite how hard it had been to tell him we couldn’t be friends even now, I knew deep down it was for the best. He’d only bring danger into my life and into Alex’s, and I didn’t want that for any of us. I didn’t want Jax Teller in my life anymore. I’d decided on that years ago and I intended to stick to it still.

Regardless, though, I still looked over my shoulder as I walked away, just to check. He was still standing there by his bike, smoking his cigarette and watching me go. There was something awfully sad in his stance. The farther away I got from him the harder it was to look away. So I didn’t stop looking at him until we’d turned a corner and Teller-Morrow was out of my sight.

I had never felt déjà vu like that before.