The Anarchist's Heart

“Ow, shit,”

I was precariously balanced on the top rung of a particularly rusty-looking stepladder, pinning motivational posters about learning into the bulletin board above the whiteboard in my new classroom. It was the seventh time I’d stuck myself with a pin in the course of two hours. I was beginning to question my credibility as a teacher, especially if I couldn’t even manage to pin a piece of paper without hurting myself.

I soldiered on, however, and when I was finished I returned to safe ground to admire my work. I couldn’t help but break a grin. I was looking at my classroom. In two day’s time I’d be teaching new faces a few things about artistic tricks. Even though it was situated in my hometown, it was something I could overlook for a little while. I was excited.

I tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear and spun around to eye the boxes of paint I had to unpack and put away yet. With a sigh, I used my Swiss army knife to cut open the boxes and I tucked all the paint away in the appropriately labelled cupboards. After that, I had to put all the paper in its size designated cubby, fill twelve mason jars with various paintbrushes and line them along the window ledge, and then I did a double-check to make sure I’d taken care of everything else. All the pencils, shading sticks, charcoals, crayons, pencil crayons, markers, and everything else my lesson plan could possibly call for was all put away in the appropriate place, as were the magazines and newspapers that would come in handy for abstract or collage pieces. Over time, the walls would get covered with my student’s artwork and other such environmentally-brightening pieces. I was even thinking of getting my grade 11 students to paint the overly large and hideously yellow-white ceiling tiles. Oh yes, it was going to look great in that room when I was done with it.

There were three gentle knocks on my classroom door and I spun around to see Elise Workman standing in the doorway. She was the principal of Charming High School, and she looked the part with a shock of red hair streaked with grey, pulled back into a high bun, wearing a pressed skirt and a blouse to match. Some days I wished I could pull off the true teacher fashion, but then I remembered how ugly it looked. I’d stick to my nice dress pants and expensive tops.

“Wow, it looks great it here, Elizabeth,” she cooed, looking around at all my materials.

“Thanks,” I said, tucking that pesky hair behind my ear again. I reached behind my head to tighten my ponytail. “It’s coming along. It’ll look more colourful when I have artwork to put up, of course.”

“Certainly,” She absentmindedly spun my complimentary colour chart that was still lying on one of the long work tables. “I looked over your lesson plan and it’s wonderful. The kids are really going to enjoy you, I think. We haven’t had such a free-minded art teacher in several years.”

“Really? Isn’t that, like, one of the job requirements?” I joked, straightening a stack of paper.

Elise chuckled. “Unfortunately no, but it should be. I’d fail art too if all we did was draw and colour.”

“Don’t tell me that’s what the other teachers were doing,” I winced. I couldn’t stand fake art teachers. If you were going to teach it, you should love doing it, that’s what I thought anyway.

“A good majority of them weren’t very creative with their lesson plans,” Elise sighed. “The kids ended up doing the same things over and over and not really learning anything new. Some of them did whatever they wanted and others did nothing at all, ultimately failing or dropping the class entirely. That’s why I’m glad you’re here, you see. You’re like a refreshing drink of water for this school, I believe.”

I blushed. “Aw, thanks, Elise.”

She smiled warmly at me. “Anyway, I just wanted to see how you were making out in here. I’ll be leaving shortly and I figured if you’d still be here setting up I’d get you to lock the front doors and set the alarm on your way out. I showed you how to do all that the other day, didn’t I?”

“You did, but I think I’m done for the day, too. It’s as ready as it’s going to be, I think. Let me just get my things and I’ll get out of here.”

I grabbed my purse and keys from my desk, taking just a moment to check that I had everything. When I turned around I was surprised to see Elise still standing there. She was fidgeting with her fingers and she looked rather nervous for a high school principal. I tilted my head at her.

“Is everything alright?” I asked.

“Oh, everything’s fine,” she said with a timid smile. “I just…well, there is one more thing I’d like to discuss with you before you go.”

“Oh. Okay…lay it on me.” I said, feeling a little nervous myself.

“Well, you know Mrs. Mackey, the librarian?” Elise asked.

“Yes, she was the librarian when I was going to school here.” I replied. That woman was immortal, I swear it.

“She mentioned to me that, while you were in high school, you had very close ties to the—the Sons of Anarchy,” Elise stammered over the name, like saying it was a sin.

My heart fell. Was Jax’s shadow really going to follow me around everywhere?

“Look, Elise, I no longer have anything to do with the Sons, nothing at all. But I’m not sure why you’re asking me about it…?”

“I just…well, I want to ensure the safety of this school. I was worried that maybe you were still affiliated with them in some way and that they may…well, I’m not sure what I was thinking exactly, but you know the Sons. You know what they do.” She whispered the last bit, like we weren’t the only two in the school.

“Yes…and I also know they donated a lot of money to this very school last year for renovations on the gymnasium, am I wrong?” I couldn’t believe I was actually standing up for the Sons of Anarchy, but I guess I was a little offended at her question.

“You’re right, they did,” Elise mumbled. “I just…well…”

I sighed. “They’re the Sons. I know. You don’t have to explain it to me, trust me, I get it. And yes, I did have close ties to them once upon a time, but those ties have since been severed and burned. You have nothing to worry about.”

She gave me a relieved smile. “That’s good, then. I’m sorry to have to ask, I know that must seem incredibly rude.”

I shrugged it off. Yeah, it was rude, but I was about to tell my new boss she was a bitch for asking.

“It’s not a problem,” I said. “It was all in my past though, and I intend to keep it there.”

“Alright, well I’ll let you go then,” Elise said, stepping out into the hallway. “I’ll see you in two days, Miss. Stone. We’re so happy to have you here.”

“Thank you. I’m happy to be here. See you later.”

I couldn’t tell if that was a lie or not. Sure, I liked my room setup and my co-workers seemed okay, but was I really happy to be back there, in Charming? After Elise’s question I was only reminded just how closely my past had reattached itself to my presence as soon as I came back. It’s not like my past in particular was that dark or saturated in the Son’s dirty work, but my relationship with the club’s now vice president was enough to give me a reputation that I never asked for in the first place. I didn’t need it affecting my job. It was already affecting my personal life, but I wasn’t going to let it anymore. Jax had gotten past my defences once; I wasn’t going to let it happen again. I was done with him and everything he had to offer, which wasn’t anything but bad news in the first place. I’d wiped my hands of Jax Teller.

I left through the front doors of the school that led out into the staff parking lot and took a few steps before freezing. There was a brand new black Corvette parked next to my car, and the last woman I wanted to see after my discussion with Elise was leaning against the hood of it, smoking a cigarette right on school property. My heart sunk even further and I swallowed a glob of spit that felt more like a ball of cement. I took wary steps closer to my car, eyeing her nervously.

“G-Gemma?” I asked when I was close enough—which was still too close for my liking.

“Well Jesus Christ, look what the cat dragged in,” Gemma said, putting her cigarette out under a shiny black high heel shoe. “Elizabeth Stone. You haven’t aged a day.”

Gemma Teller embraced me in a hug, which I robotically returned. I hadn’t seen Jax’s mother since I’d left, but I knew her all too well. She was vengeful, deceitful, sarcastic, the All Mother of the Sons of Anarchy, and she had a poisonous tendency to love too hard. She loved very few, however, but Jax was number one on that list, and anyone who messed with the things and people she loved usually didn’t live to do it again. So there was a reason I was afraid, and the fact that she was hugging me and even ended it with a kiss on the cheek only terrified me further. A hug and a kiss from Gemma Teller was the equivalent of getting cuddled by a Great White shark before it devoured you.

“What are you doing here, Gemma?” I asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

She hadn’t aged a day, either. She was doing something different with her hair from the last time I’d seen her—she had bits of white-blonde amidst the long black tresses now—but she still wore the same tight, dark clothing, dangerous heels, and the same surly, scheming expression she always wore.

“Jax told me you were back in town,” she explained. “I went to your house to say hello first, and I met your lovely fiancé. What a happy guy he is, huh? Anyway, he told me you’d be here, so I thought I’d come and wait for you outside.”

“Oh,” I nodded slowly, “okay. Well, I was just about to go back home—”

“What brought you back to Charming, Ella?” Gemma asked, turning her sly hazel eyes on me. “I mean really, why did you slink back here so suddenly?”

“I, um, my fiancé got a job offer here and he took it, so—”

“Sweetheart, he’s an orthodontist, he could’ve got a far better job in a massive city somewhere. And you’re a teacher, those are always in high demand. So you could’ve said no.”

“I wasn’t about to ruin his happiness just because the job request was here,” I said coldly. “I’m not that selfish.”

“Hm, you had me fooled.”

“What are you doing here, Gemma?” I asked again, in a far more icy voice this time.

“You had to know Jax was still here before you came,” she speculated. “You had to. He was a Son when you left, and a man doesn’t just leave the Sons of Anarchy. You knew that.”

“So?” I sighed. “Jax is not a part of my life anymore, I already told him that. Surely he passed that message on to you as well.”

“In a manner of speaking, I suppose,” She shrugged. “I just came by to make sure that was the deal, and that there’d be no more late-night motorcycle crashes in front of your house.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. I knew Jax wouldn’t have been the one to tell her that; he was just as big into keeping people out of his business as I was, and that definitely included his own mother. But I knew Gemma, and I knew she had eyes in places I didn’t even want to think of.

“Isn’t this a conversation you should be having with your son, then, considering how he was the one to purposely crash and I had nothing to do with that?” I snapped bitterly.

“Jax wouldn’t listen, you know him,” She scoffed. “And you also know he still cares for you. I can’t imagine why, after what you did to him.”

“That was years ago—”

“You broke him, you know? You absolutely destroyed him. It was sickening, as his mother, to watch the aftermath of what you did. Someday, you’re going to be a mom, and I hope some heartless girl does the same thing to your son as you did to mine. And then you’ll understand why I wanted to talk to you. I want to warn you. I don’t want you with Jax. You may be back in town but this is not your home anymore. You will never belong here, not as long as I’m here. I can’t control what Jackson does, but I can make certain you won’t hurt him ever again. This time, I’m gonna be the one to break you.”

“Are you threatening me?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. Who was I kidding? It was Gemma, of course she was threatening me. That’s all she ever did.

“If you listen to me, you have nothing to worry about. If you don’t, then yes, I am threatening you. And I keep all my threats like the sacred promises they are.”

I swallowed. “Can I go home now? Please?” I said. I was in no mood for Gemma’s promises.

“Sure,” Gemma said, waving a hand towards my car. “Oh, and if you hear a Harley outside your door, don’t go outside.”

I gave her a last, dismissive look before getting into my car and leaving her behind. She watched me go and I watched her in the rear-view until I couldn’t see her anymore. All I could think was that her threats were hollow. First of all, I’d already made my own promises that I’d stay as far away from Jax as possible from then on, I didn’t need Gemma to threaten me to do it. Secondly, Jax wouldn’t let her touch me. Of course he had no idea she’d come to see me, she wouldn’t tell him that out of fear of his rage, but he’d know if she was making a move against me, and he’d stop her. Whether he hated me at that point or not, he’d stop her.

I sighed as I waited for it to be safe to turn left onto a residential street and I hoped to god Elise hadn’t looked out the window and witnessed my altercation. I was not about to lose my job before I even started because of Gemma fucking Teller.