First Son, Cursed Son

Why I could never be a stripper

Willow finds a quiet corner in the living room, sinking down in a comfy armchair and pulling out her phone, catching up on all her text messages and social media. She's engrossed in an article about how to grow your hair three inches in three weeks when someone flops down on the floor next to her. She looks up, half hopeful it'll be Abel.

Instead, it's Bowen. He tosses her his phone without looking and she catches it, setting her own side. His conversation with Jordan is pulled up and Willow skims it briefly. There's not much to read; both sides are incredibly short and one worded, mostly 'yeah' and 'ok'.

"Now what?" Bowen asks, laying on a pillow and looking up at her. Willow tosses the phone back.

"Well, it depends. What do you want from her?" She asks.

"A decent shag." He says hopefully and Willow throws a pillow at him. He tucks it under his head.

"Well, if there's one thing I can tell you about Jordy, it's that she's smart. She's not a stranger to this shit and I'm sorry to say it but I may have told her some of your tricks. If you want more sex and nothing else, tell her that. If you actually want to take her to Ireland, tell her that too." She tells him and he broods long enough to finish another beer before popping up and heading for the fridge to get another one. Willow resumes her article.

"Is three inches of hair really worth rubbing mushed bananas in your hair for three weeks?" Abel asks, making her jump. He's reading over her shoulder with a bewildered expression. "If so, girls are crazy."

"It's not real." Willow tells, half annoyed that he managed to sneak up on her and half annoyed that her heart is racing and not from the surprise. "It's just something someone made up to see if people would follow it." He looks pensive, running a hand through his own hair and sitting on Bowen's abandoned pillows.

"Still, that would be a lot of bananas." He says and she rolls her eyes.

"What are you doing inside? Shouldn't you be outside with the rest of the MC, talking about your dad?" She asks, drawing her legs up to her chest.

"I'm just a little sick of talking about him actually." He muses, not looking at her. "I've been talking about him nonstop since Thursday and I reckon I need a little break. Too much of a good thing, you know?" But something in his tone makes Willow think it hasn't been a good thing. "Tell me about you instead." He says and she looks down at him.

"What about me?" She asks curiously, wondering his angle.

"I don't know, all of it. I feel like I saw you grow up through those photos albums and yet I don't even know your birthday." He says and she smiles.

"September 13th." She tells him and he twists to smile at her.

"April 30th." He tells her and she nods.

"I can't sing." She says, it coming off her tongue easily, something inconsequential. "I can't dance either, which is why I could never be a stripper. I don't like being late. My favorite color is green and favorite season is spring. I'm type A. It drives Ken and Pipes nuts cause I have to have everything organized just so. I played soccer when I was little but I hated it. I always wanted to be a figure skater before someone explained that we live in California. I can bake because I like exact measurements. I like to run. Sometimes I think I could outrun the club and Charming. I'm a morning person, but only after coffee. I've lived in the same house for as long as I can remember. I have no memories of my father." She stops at the last one, it tearing its familiar hole in her heart.

"Who the hell is a morning person and likes to run?" Abel demands and Willow is grateful that he doesn't press her.

"Alright then, your turn!" She tells him and he leans back, hands under his head, grinning.

"Alright fine. I can sing wonderfully in the shower but my dancing is terrible. My favorite color is red and I like summer the best. I try to be on time but I'm type B so that doesn't happen. I like making things but I hate measuring stuff so it's usually shit. I wanted to be a firefighter when I was little. I hate mornings and running, because I'm not insane. I have a heart condition that I take medication for and I was born premature." He rattles off and Willow feels a rush of gratefulness that he's as open as she is.

"When did you get your bike?" She inquires and a dreamy expression crosses his face.

"The day after I turned 17. I had been saving up my entire life, literally. Got a job at 14 and saved every penny. My mom helped out too, even if she won't ever admit it. I picked her out in the store a year before I got her. The day I got to walk in there with my money and ride out on that bike..." He trails off.

"It's a pretty bike." Willow compliments and he looks at her with a funny little grin, eyes twinkling.

"You know, I've had hundreds of girls tell me that and ask for a ride. But hearing that from you? I'm complimented beyond words." He says, a touch of teasing in his voice and she uncurls one leg to kick him. He laughs, pushing her foot away from his face. "I'm being honest! You're the first girl to know what she's talking about when it comes to bikes!"

"I know." Willow says proudly, thinking back to the times when she was little and had asked endless questions about the bikes. T.O. had been the one to get fed up with it and had picked her up, taking her outside and setting her in front of the bikes, pointing out what made different models distinctive, what customizations had been added, all the different handlebars and their names. It had become a game between her and the others kids, identifying different bikes as they rode past, making the adults laugh.

"So what do you want to do with your life?" He asks and she automatically checks to see if anyone is in listening range. All the adults are outside, egging on Ken to wrestle Gavin, so she's clear. She looks back at Abel, who's watching her with bright eyes.

"I want to major in this thing called Behavioral Evolution." She says and he raises an eyebrow. "They call it the Ecology, Behavior, and Evolution major at UCLA. It's all about why we do what we do. It's a lot of math and chemistry stuff." She explains. He makes a face.

"Sounds like hell."

"Actually, I love those two subjects, so I think it'll be fine." She says, with a little dismissive shrug.

"And let me guess, you want to understand where in evolution we went wrong and created biker gangs." Abel points out and Willow keeps her mouth shut. It scares her that he can see through her that well. "I don't blame you. I'd want to understand it too, if I was smart enough for it. You want to understand what's wrapped up in your DNA. I just accept that it's there." He says and she can feel that the topic is veering into unsafe territory so she brings it back.

"What about you? What do you want to be?" She asks and he shrugs.

"I'm good enough for a mechanic. Everyone assumed that's what I'd do, after school, since all I've ever wanted was a bike. Took a couple courses at a community college, but I really fell in love with welding there. I like it. Told you I am a little bit bad with numbers, but I'm pretty good with computers, so anything like that I can handle. Not sure where I'll go or what I'll do." He says.

"So what's your plan after this?" Willow asks, trying to sound disinterested even though her stomach is in knots.

"Head home for a little bit. Tommy's gonna graduate soon. I should be around for that. After that I want to ride the coast, maybe go up north to Washington. Head over to Sturgis and if any place strikes my fancy on the way, settle there and call it good." He details.

"It sounds like a good plan." Willow admits.

"Not as good a plan as college." He tells her and she bits her lip.

"At least you can tell your family about your plan." This time it's Abel who rolls his eyes.

"Are you kidding me? I've been here 4 days and I can already tell how much these guys love you. Do you really think they'll be mad at you for being smart and going to college? That's a good thing Wills, not something you need to be ashamed of. I'm sure if you explained it to them they'd be more than happy to send you off." He says and the same tightness takes over her chest.

"You don't know, you're not part of the MC." She says and his eyes go cold again. He sits up with a shrug.

"True." And with that he gets up and leaves. Willow rubs her eyes until she sees spots.