All Secrets Sleep in Winter.. (K/T MATURE) Ch 7 6/30(WIP)

[elodie]

Title: All Secrets Sleep in Winter Clothes
Rating: Mature for underage alcohol use, drug abuse and sexual situations.
Disclaimer: I don't own Roswell, nor the title. It comes from Neutral Milk Hotel's 'In the Aeroplane Over the Sea'.
Pairings: K/T, CC and probably some mild UC
Summary: There hadn't been a real female presence in the Valenti house for eleven years, not since Kyle's mom left. When his dad takes in a foster kid in the midst of an existential crisis, Kyle is a little worried. Tess has been in the system for years. She doesn't know what it truly feels like to be loved and she's ok with that. As soon as Kyle meets her, he loves her, but she claims she's too damaged for love and continues down the path of self destruction that she's been on for years. Once Kyle finds out about her past, he's determined to help her. The only question is, will she let him?

A/N: A few warnings before we begin. This may seem pretty light-hearted at first, but it's going to get a lot darker. There will be references to molestation, self harm, alcohol and drug abuse, general child abuse and mischief making. I'm not entirely sure how in depth or explicit, but those elements will be there. Also, this is AU w/o aliens. No alien madness here. Just regular ol' fucked up humans.


Chapter 1

It was all because of a God damn existential crisis. Who has existential crises these days? Well, I guess my good ol' dad does. He turned fifty and received an AARP application in the mail. The next thing I know, he's bought a mustang, shaved his beard and picked up the guitar he hadn't touched in twenty years.

I still don't get his rationale for bringing Tess into the house. You want to feel young, so you play ball with kids, not take in some fucked up teenage girl. I mean, he probably didn't intend to get stuck with her, but c'mon. One look at her face, y'know, and you're gone.

God, she was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen in my life. Petite, blond, pale, with a killer rack and a “fuck me” smirk on her face. So this is my new 'sister.' What was Dad thinking?

Weeks before, Dad had mentioned something about taking in a foster kid. I thought it'd be a good idea, since Dad's either occupied at work or in front of the TV. He could use new blood in his life. I never actually thought he'd go through with it.

Next thing I know, there's a knock at the door. I open it, not bothering to put on pants since I figured it was just one of Dad's friends, and there she was. The sun glinted off of her hair and her eyes were so blue that it almost hurt to look into them. She stood slightly behind a tall, imposing woman. Mrs. Harriet Granger, social worker, she explained to me.

I told Mrs. Harriet Granger that Dad was in the kitchen making pancakes.

“I'm Tess,” she said, sidling up to me. “What's your name?”

“K-Kyle,” I managed to stammer. What the fuck it wrong with you, Valenti? Cool it.

She ran her eyes over my face and then down toward the floor. I was all too aware that I was only wearing a t-shirt and boxers, and when she reached out and snapped the waistband, I jumped. “Calvin Klein...” She said with a smirk. “I approve.”

Before I could sputter out a response, Mrs. Harriet Granger breezed back into the living room, Dad following close behind.

“Tess, this is Jim Valenti. I can see that you've already met...” She moved to flip through her folder in search of my name.

“Kyle,” I supplied, saving her the work.

She pasted on a fake smile and nodded. “Right, yes, Kyle. Kyle, why don't you show Tess around while I have a word with your father.”

Tess was still smirking as I nodded and motioned her toward the guest bedroom. “Well, this is gonna be your room, I guess.”

She flopped on the bed and nodded in approval. “Comfy.”

“I guess you can put shit up on the walls. Dad doesn't mind. And he's gotten used to incense if you're into that, so...well, feel free.” She raised her eyebrow at my awkward wording, but remained silent. “Well, uh, the bathroom's down the hall, you've already seen the living room, and the kitchen's just over there. And uh, well, that's our house. It's not much, but-”

“It's perfect,” she said quickly, flashing me a nervous smile. First time she's shown some sign of weakness since she's waltzed right in here.

“Well, good.”

She stretched out lazily, nuzzling her face into the comforter. “So you do party?” She asked, the smirk returning to her face.

I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Great!” She grinned, jumping up from the bed. “When's the next party?”

“Tonight I think. Do you think you should-”

I cut myself off when she pressed herself up against me, running her finger down my cheek. Ohhh God. “You don't want to be Mr. No Fun, do you, Kyle?” Her hand continued down until she was squeezing...Ohhh God. Yep, that's my butt. Buddha save me, I'm going to be living with her. And she's hot. And she's supposed to be a pseudo-sister. I shook my head, chanting my 'cool it' mantra over and over in my head.

“I mean, I don't know what my dad's planned for tonight, or-” Yep, now both hands were on my butt. She bit her lip coyly, and pressed herself even closer. This is what most guys pray for, isn't it?

“Kyle!” Dad called. I jumped back as if she'd bit me. “C'mere for a second.”

“Uh, uh, let me just pull on a pair of pants, OK?” Tess was laughing at me as I scrambled into my room and pulled on a pair of jeans. It covered as much of my raging boner as any pair of pants would, so it'd have to do. I saw her facial expression completely change in front of my eyes. It went from seductress to innocent little girl as she entered the living room. Buddha help me.

“Kyle, why don't you take Tess around town? Harriet and I have some further things to discuss. Take her to the Crashdown or something.”

“That sounds lovely, Kyle,” Tess said sweetly. “It was very nice to meet you, Mr. Valenti.” She shook his hand firmly.

“Oh no, you can call me Jim, if that's OK with you. Mr. Valenti makes me sound old.” I couldn't help snorting at that. He shot me one of those looks, so I knew it was time to leave. Existential crisis be damned, Tess was part of the family.

[elodie]

A/N: And the plot thickens...

Shiesty23: I PMed a mod, and they told me that I was right to place it here, so it's all good now. Thanks for your feedback!
killjoy: I agree about the lack of Lamptrimming action! People need to get over the whole Tess being evil thing and just focus on that chemistry she had with Kyle. That was not sibling rivalry.
To_Kiss_A_Frog: There are even more sides to her to come! There will definitely be trouble coming. C'mon, with Tess it's inevitable!

ETA: Shoot! Forgot a disclaimer...some lines were taken from A Tale of Two Parties! No copyright infringement intended


Chapter 2

The whole drive to the Crashdown, I had to keep shoving her hand off of my knee. God, she was relentless. She had on that fuck-me smirk, and kept licking her lips when she looked my way.

What is her problem? Sure, she's hot, but we just met a-and she's going to be living in my house and...and her hand is on my knee again.

She's laughing at my reddening face, I know she is. I pulled into the parking space in front of the Crashdown a little more forcefully than I'd meant to, hitting the curb hard in the process. She just kept smirking.

I led her into the cafe and sat at my favorite booth. She sat across from me and almost immediately began nudging her foot up and down my ankle.

Liz, obviously still recovering from a busy morning, came to take our orders without fully processing who she was talking to. “Welcome to the Crashdown Cafe! My name is Liz and I'll be your waitress today. Can I get you any drinks to start off? Oh, hey Kyle!” She smiled warmly. “How have you been? Excited for school to start?”

I laughed and shook my head. “Only you, Liz. Ow!” Tess had delivered a sharp kick to my shin under the table, shooting me a look that said I was forgetting something important. “Oh, right, sorry. Liz, this is Tess. Tess, this is Liz Parker. She's an old friend of mine.”

“It's nice to meet you, Tess,” Liz beamed, her eyes darting back and forth between the two of us.

“Oh, she's the kid my dad was thinking about taking in,” I explained quickly, realizing what she must have thought. “We're not...” Her foot was back on my ankle in an instant, only this time she was rubbing a little too hard.

Liz coughed awkwardly. “Right, of course. Um, well can I get you any drinks?”

“Cherry coke with lime,” Tess said tartly.

“And I'll take a root beer,” I said, pulling my feet back so that Tess couldn't reach them anymore.

“Great! I'll be back with those in a minute.”

I turned back to Tess and scowled. “You're being a little rude, don't you think?”

She licked her lips and leaned over the table, making damn well sure as much of her ample cleavage was nearly falling out of her shirt as possible. “You don't want me to lure you to the dark side?”

I breathed deeply, looking over her head. If I look at her face, I can still see her chest peripherally, so I have to look behind her. It's the only way. Breathe Valenti, down boy. “It is a man's own mind, not his enemy or foe, that lures him to evil ways.”

Tess recoiled, her eyes – Man they were blue – making hard contact with mine. “What kind of freak are you?”

“I-” Shit, why did I have to go and say that? No one knows about my...my hobby. “I, uh, I studied Buddhism at football camp two summers ago. No big deal,” I mumbled.

“At football camp?” Tess raised one eyebrow. “You went to football camp to study religion?”

“I- It's hard to explain. You wouldn't understand.”

“Try me.”

Why does she keep pressing the issue? What does she care? “Just- OK, look, some weird shit went down here that year, and I couldn't deal with it. So I went to my dad's girlfriend, because she's into that queer spiritual shit, and she gave me a book about it. So I read it, and...well, it worked. So sue me, I'm religious. Kind of.”

“Let me guess. You've got a fat Buddha statue and you pray to get laid on Friday nights.” Tess deadpans, but her gaze was softer now.

I nodded, trying to stifle a grin. “Well, yes, I do have a statue. And I do pray on Friday nights sometimes, yes.”

Tess is smiling now, and it's almost a real smile. “Maybe it'll work tonight.”

What? What the hell did that mean? I was about to ask her, but Liz chose that moment to come back with our drinks. Liz always has the worst timing possible.

She didn't mean... No, she couldn't. Could she? Wouldn't that be sick?

I mean, it's not like she's my real sister. But c'mon, I just met her today. I mean, the way she's acting, it's obvious that she's been around the block a few times. And she's hot. Really, really hot.

“So,” Liz says, whipping out her order pad. “Would you like anything to eat?”

Across from me, Tess is mouthing 'You,' and flicking her tongue out to wet her lips. Oh...my God.

“Uhh, how about something cold?” Yeah, something really cold.

Liz looks at me strangely and Tess smirks. “You mean, like a sundae or something?”

“No!” Nothing chocolate. Dammit, this isn't working. “No, I mean... How about a vanilla milkshake?” Yeah, vanilla is OK.

“One vanilla milkshake...” Liz says as she scribbles it down. “And for you, Tess?”

“I'll take a hot fudge sundae. With extra fudge.” She never looks at Liz, only me. This is the most surreal day of my life. By far.

“And one hot fudge sundae, heavy on the fudge. Great! Your orders will be ready in a few minutes.”

Liz's voice doesn't even register in my mind. All I see is Tess...and Tess's tongue, and that smirk.

What the hell is going on?

[elodie]

A/N: Thanks to To_Kiss_A_Frog and killjoy for the feedback! The plot thickens some more...

Chapter 3

The bass was too loud and it was killing my ears. I couldn't find Tess anywhere. One minute she was here, the next gone. God, I hope she isn't getting into too much trouble. I know it's my job to look out for her and everything, but I didn't ask for it.

I honestly don't know what Dad's gotten us into. Does he really think he has the time and the patience to take care of Tess? I may be fairly dense sometimes, but even I can tell that there's something up with her.

“Kyle, hey!” A drunken blonde squealed in my ear.

“Hey Vicky,” I yelled back over the pounding of the bass. “What's going on?”

“Have you seen Tommy? I can't find him anywhere!”

Her voice was slurred and I can tell she's had a few Jell-o shots too many. “Why don't you sit down for a bit?” I asked, steering her toward the nearest couch.

“But I'm looking for Tommy... He was here one minute, and the next he was gone!”

I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. Tess wouldn't...would she? “C'mon Vicky, you should really sit down.”

Vicky staggered and clutched at her stomach. “I feel sick...” I rushed her to the bathroom just in time as she emptied her guts into the toilet. I held back her hair as best I could until she was done, handing her some wadded up toilet paper to wipe her mouth. “Thanks Kyle,” she said sleepily, her eyes fluttering closed. Oh shit. She collapsed onto the floor in front of the toilet, long blond hair fanning out over the tiles.

“Vicky...” I hissed, tapping her cheek. When she didn't wake up, I tapped her harder. “Fucking A,” I muttered as I dragged her out of the bathroom. Seeing Wendy, a friend of Vicky's, I quickly passed her off and instructed her to bring her to the hospital if she didn't wake up soon.

I needed a beer.

Ten minutes and two beers later, I felt good. More than good actually. I knew it was due to the beer, but it really felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Unfortunately, that weight came crashing down again as I saw Tess coming down the stairs, hand in hand with Tommy. Her hair was messed up and Tommy's shirt wasn't buttoned right, and they both looked like the cat the ate the canary.

“Tess!” I called, grabbing her away from Tommy. He kept going, never even sending her a second glance. “What do you think you're doing?” I hissed.

She giggled drunkenly and swayed on her feet. “Whaaat, he wanted a blowjob!”

“Tess!”

“He says his prissy little girlfriend won't. So I did. He's got a tiny dick.” She held up her pinky finger and laughed some more. Well that was something I didn't need to know about.

“C'mon, let's get you home.” I tried to steer her toward the door, but she ripped herself away and ran off into the crowd. I cursed and shoved people aside, trying to find her.

I was momentarily distracted by our token designated driver. “Evans,” I panted, still looking around for Tess. “Think you could give me and Tess a ride home?”

Evans shrugged and sipped at his water. “Yeah sure. Who's Tess?”

Of course she picked that moment to introduce herself. “Kyle, hey! Who's your friend? Wow, you're totally hot,” Tess stumbled over, white powder that hadn't been there before dusting her nostrils.

“That's Tess,” I muttered, hauling her outside. “Tess, my dad's a cop. He's gonna know something's up.”

“It was just a little coke,” she said innocently, wiping at her nose. “Pam Troy gave me some. She's total slut, but she's got great shit.”

I rolled my eyes and shoved her into the back of Evans' jeep. “You're one to talk,” I muttered.

“What?” She snapped, leaning into the front seat. “You calling me a slut?”

“Tommy has a girlfriend, Tess, remember? I told you he was off-limits. While you were busy blowing her boyfriend, Vicky was passed out drunk.” I couldn't believe her. So what if she had some ridiculous sob story, some tragic past, whatever it was, I didn't care. “Who do you think you are? You just waltz into town, and make yourself at home in my dad's house, where, I might add, we have been perfectly fine on our own for the past eleven years. Then you're off fucking my friends and doing coke with that white trash ho? Jesus Tess, get a fucking clue.”

I expected her to start bawling or something, and I felt bad, but her eyes just hardened over. She reached out and grabbed my shoulder, her fingernails digging into my skin even through the heavy flannel.

“You want me gone? Fine. Tell your dad. Tell good ol' Sheriff that little Tessie is just another white trash slut. Tell him that you want him all to yourself so you can wallow in your misery together. Tell him that you want me sent right back to where I came from, and just see how he reacts.”

Momentarily stunned, I couldn't think of a retort. Evans saves me by putting a calm hand of my shoulder. “C'mon Kyle,” he said quietly. “Just get in the Jeep.”

I clenched my teeth, but climbed in anyway. Tess was leaning back against the seat, her eyes glazed over by still steely. Her face was completely devoid of emotion.

I thanked Evans for driving us home and tried to lead Tess into the house. She ripped her arm away and ran in before me, locking herself in her bedroom before I could say a word.

Great, just great. She's only been here for a day, and she already hates me. I don't hate her, I was just mad. Because really, who was she to just come here and fuck everything up? Everything was pretty OK before, and now... Now I just don't know what to think.

I felt bad an hour later, when I heard her crying. I was on my way to take a shower, but all I could hear were her sobs. I knew better than to go in, but those sobs really got to me. It was the way you'd expect someone to cry after their best friend died, but there Tess was, crying after I called her a slut.

God, how much of a jerk does that make me? I shrugged, knowing there was nothing I could do now, and just took my shower in peace. By the time I was done, the crying had stopped, and the house was quiet.

[elodie]

A/N: Thanks to alizaleven, killjoy and Icalynn for the fb!


Chapter 4

Tess didn't talk to me all weekend. Dad took her out fishing on Sunday morning, trying to bond and all that shit. Good for him. I guess she fell in because she came back wrapped in a blanket and shivering wildly. I really can't blame her. Why did Dad take her fishing in December, anyway?

That's just the thing. Dad doesn't have a clue. I mean, he barely has an idea about what to do with me. How does he expect to bond with some fucked-up chick who's been in foster care for who knows how long? I heard her crying again on Saturday night, and again on Sunday. I don't know what her problem is.

Every time I hear her, I want to go talk to her, to see what's wrong, but I know I'd just make it worse. I'm not great at that emotional stuff. My dad and I have lived a pretty stoic existence for the past few years. We're affectionate in the typical manly ways, but other than that, we communicate with grunts and scratching.

I really haven't lived with a girl since I was six, and I don't think Mom really counts. She wasn't around a lot anyway. So it's weird to know that there's a hair dryer and a box of tampons in our bathroom, and that there's posters of guys who aren't wearing football or baseball uniforms up on the walls. There's even Midol in our medicine cabinet.

Pam Troy's throwing a big New Year's bash tonight. Since Tess still hasn't spoken with me, I don't know if she's going, though I assume she is. I'm not. Dad and I have our New Years traditions. I don't need to go out and get trashed. I can do that any night.

She comes out of her room dressed in the skankiest get-up I've ever seen. Leather skirt so short that if she sat down, you could probably tell if she was a natural blond or not, skintight tube top, leather boots up to her knees. I don't know what Dad'll say when he sees her like this, but I'm holding my tongue trying not to make a crack about Miss Teen Dominatrix here.

Somebody honks their horn outside, and Tess struts over to the door, throwing a tight leather jacket over her shoulders. “I'm going out,” she says to me in the first words I've heard from her since Friday. I just nod, holding up a lazy hand in greeting, and out she goes. When I turn to look out the window, she's hopping into the car, kissing someone. From the looks of the car, it's Paulie, but that is definitely Paulie's girlfriend that Tess is currently lip-locked with. Aw jeez.

I honestly don't know why guys like lesbians. That is not to say that I don't. I do, ohhh yes I do. I just don't understand it, that's all. I guess when you think about it, there's a hot girl. Nice. Even better? Two hot girls. What could top it off? Two hot girls making out. Maybe it's just this hope that if girls are making out with each other, there's a chance of a threesome or something. Or that they're kinky.

I don't get women.

Especially not Tess.

Dad plops down next to me on the couch and opens a beer. “How you doin', son?”

I shrug, rolling the kinks out of my neck. “It's all good.”

He nods and takes a swig. This is our tradition. “It's kind of weird having a girl around the house, huh?” I shrug again, rolling my eyes. Dad puts the beer down on the coffee table. Whoa, this is breaking tradition. He turns to me, his face dead serious. “Kyle, I know it's strange right now, but there's a lot of things you don't know about her. Give her a chance. Heck, give her a few. She's had it rough, and she deserves a break once in awhile.”

I mumble unintelligibly and turn on the TV. We sit in silence watching Dick Clark, Dad getting pissed and me napping sporadically. The tradition lives on.

A little after midnight, my cell rings, waking me out of my light holiday nap. Dad's dead asleep next to me, so I get my butt in the kitchen before I answer. “Hello?” I say groggily. I can already hear the shouts and cheers from the party in the background.

“Yo Valenti, you gotta get your ass here now.” It's Paulie. I have no intention of going.

“Naw, I'm not in the mood to party,” I say, yawning for affect.

Paulie's answer to that startles me. “It's that chick that's living with you. She's freaking out, man.”

“What?” I stand up straighter, the reliable ol' watchdog in me kicking in. “Tess? What's wrong with her?”

“Man, she just started freaking out. You gotta get down here.”

I hang up without saying goodbye and get my ass out to the Mustang, taking care to drive as fast as I could risk. Pam Troy lives in the nice part of town. Her parents are loaded, and out of town often so her house is the go-to place for parties. There are kids out on the lawn, stumbling around, falling down, making out. One kid's puking in the bushes. Nasty. One reason why I always avoid New Years parties is that I don't ever want to start a new year watching some wussy puke in the bushes.

I shove open the door, looking out at the crowd. I can't find Tess or Paulie. Vicky Delaney tries to slap my ass in a drunken haze, but I grab her shoulders before she could. “Have you seen Paulie?” I ask frantically. She giggles and nods, pointing up at the stairs. Oh Jesus. What did he do? Or what did she do? What did either of them do and why is Tess 'freaking out', as Paulie says. I run up the stairs, and hear quiet screams coming from Pam's parents' room.

Tess is crouched in the corner by the closet, curled up in the fetal position. Paulie's there, shaking his head, obviously coked up and nervous as hell about Tess. “What happened?” I ask him, kneeling in front of Tess. I try to touch her, but she scratches at my arm and cries harder, her screams reducing to frightened apologies.

“I don't know man! One minute, she was totally into me, could barely get up here fast enough. The next thing I know, she's just flipping out and hiding like I'm gonna beat her up or something. I swear I didn't try anything, man!”

I reach out to Tess again. “Tess?” I whisper, trying to get her to look at me. She's staring straight out, like she can't even see me. Jesus Christ, what is wrong with this girl. “Tess, I'm going to take you home. Do you want to go home?” When she doesn't respond, I turn back to Paulie to demand some answers. “What is she on? Did you give her something?”

Paulie shook his head frantically. “No man! We were drinking, and we took a few rips off Pam's bong, but we were together the whole night so I'd know if she took something else. I mean, there was some acid going around, but I didn't see her take any.”

I turn back to her, still not touching her. “Tess, did you take any acid?” I ask gently. She finally looks up at me and shakes her head. “How much did you drink?” I ask. She shakes her head, still murmuring words I can't understand. “You didn't drink anything?” She shakes her head again. “OK, did you do any coke?” Again, she shakes her head. “So what's wrong? What happened?” She shakes her head, curling up into a tighter ball.

I sigh in frustration and turn back to Paulie. “Look, why don't you go back to the party. I'm going to try to take her home.” Paulie nods and runs out the door before I could tell him not to tell anyone about this. Tess is rocking back and forth now, but she's stopped whispering, and her sobs are low and slower now. “Tess, I'm going to pick you up if that's OK. We can go home.” She stares over my shoulder for a few seconds, and then nods. I slide my arm under her knees and she immediately wraps her arms around my neck, holding on for dear life as I slowly stand up.

Carrying her down the stairs is tricky with drunk kids running up and down, but I manage to get her out to my car unscathed. I slide her in the passengers seat and buckle her in before climbing in myself and driving her home. She lets me carry her to her room. Dad's still out like a light on the couch.

I lay her in her bed gently, tugging off her shoes and pulling the covers over her. As I reach to turn the light out, she grabs my wrist to stop me.

“No,” she croaks. “Don't leave.” I sit on the edge of her bed, not entirely sure what to say. This comforting shit really isn't my forte.

“OK,” I reassure her. A few stray curls fall in her face and she tries to blow them away, but can't. I find myself smiling slightly and I reach up to brush them away. She doesn't smile, but her eyes droop closed and she sighs. When I pull my hand away, she grabs it tightly, her eyes popping open again.

“Don't leave me,” she pleads quietly. “Just-Just stay with me until I go to sleep. Please.”

I nod, and squeeze her hand. “Yeah, that's fine.”

She almost smiles back, her eyes closing again. “I'm sorry,” she whispers. A few minutes later, she's sound asleep. I pull my hand away from hers and reach to turn out the light. Before I could, I couldn't help noticing the several bottles of pills on her bedside table. I checked the labels, and sure enough they're all prescribed to her. Pretty much any sort of pharmaceutical a teenage girl could be prescribed was there. Anti-depressants, a sleep aid, Ritalin, a few other drugs I didn't recognize and surprisingly Vicodin. I could get why the other drugs applied to her, but what the fuck was she taking pain meds for?

I couldn't answer that, and she was in no state to answer, so I turned off her light and went to bed.

Damn, this girl is as layered as an onion. How's she going to deal with her first day at good ol' West Roswell high the day after tomorrow?

[elodie]

A/N: Finally, I hear some sympathy for Tess Thanks to alizaleven, ~SavitarOmegrion~ and Flamehair for the FB. It means a lot!


Chapter 5

So Tess hasn't looked me in the eye for a week. That's not to say she hasn't talked to me. Oh no, she's a regular chatterbox during breakfast, but she always looks over my shoulder, or at my forehead or my nose. It's subtle, but I notice it. She never mentioned New Years, never gave an explanation, an apology, a rant, nothing. It's like it never happened.

I drilled Paulie about it later, warning him that if he tried anything with her again, that I'd kick his ass. He may have several inches on me, but when 160 pounds of varsity Greco-Roman wrestler is threatening to beat his face so bad his own mother couldn't recognize him, he stays far away.

That's not to say that Paulie isn't a good guy. OK, maybe he isn't the greatest human being who ever lived, and he ain't that bright, and the girls don't think he's really all that attractive (don't ask me! I don't judge, although I have seen him in the shower and I was imp – Never mind.) but he usually doesn't mean any harm.

Sure, he was trying to cheat on his girlfriend. But y'know, his girlfriend had just made out with another chick in front of him. Well, I guess that doesn't make much of a difference. But how would she have reacted had he kissed another dude in front of her? Man, I am not going there. What the fuck is wrong with me today?

Those faggy psych geeks would tell me that I am repressing homosexual tendencies. I am not. Not. I mean, I have nothing against gay dudes, and lesbians are hot, but I like the pussy. I like the tits. I no like the dick.

I need to get more sleep.

Anyway, all repressed homosexual tendencies aside, I realized that I don't hate Tess. I don't resent her. I don't even pity her. I actually kind of like her.

I mean, when was the last time we sat down at the dinner table and ate a real meal? She's a good cook, and she cooks us dinner every night like a good little housewife. Dad even went out and bought her a chair so that he wouldn't have to pull the ottoman up to the table to sit on. It's little things like that that made us realize that we've been living a very isolated life. It's a wonder we even had an ottoman.

I can tell Tess likes my dad. She smiles a lot when he's around and always laughs at his bad jokes. She'll even watch America's Most Wanted with us, even though she'd rather be watching MTV or something.

These past few days have really made me wonder if taking in Tess was really such a bad thing after all? It's so great seeing my dad happy, although it does hurt that taking care of me wasn't enough to get him through his mid-life crisis.

The way I look at it, I'm a pretty balanced, stable person. I like my life and I've learned to deal with the things that I don't like about life. I've got my Buddha statue, I've got friends, I've got my dad and I've got sports. I mean, I guess I'd like a girlfriend, but I don't need one right now. I'm content. Tess on the other hand... Whew, Tess is a mess. Tess the mess. I'm so clever. Even though she obviously likes my dad, she visibly tenses whenever he touches her. Actually, she visibly tenses when almost any male touches her, especially ones that are a lot taller than her. She doesn't seem to have much of a problem with me, but I guess I'm on the short side. I know for a fact that she's really smart, but she's barely passing her classes. Well, there isn't much to show from West Roswell, but I heard Dad telling her that the grades she was getting at her old school weren't acceptable.

Just the other day, I was working on my homework. Now, I'm not a brilliant guy. Maria Deluca and I spent long hours together in remedial science. However, I can say that I'm certainly not dumb. I get things, just not in the school sense. Tess, she just gets everything. I had to write a history essay about how different people resisted the Nazis during World War II and she spouts off all this information about the Free French and something about the Danish. I don't know. But she helped me write it, and I got a B.

Out of her party get-up, she looks just like any normal kid. She's got on jeans, a t-shirt and an over-sized flannel shirt, and she's sitting cross-legged on the couch, stuffing her mouth full of popcorn. I want to say something to her, I just don't know what.

She finally breaks the ice. “Do you like stars?” She asks me, a handful of popcorn frozen on the way to her mouth.

“Do I like them?” I ask stupidly. She shrugs and busies herself with that popcorn. “Yeah, I guess. Why?”

She swallows and stands up, wiping her greasy hands on her jeans. “C'mon,” she says, leading me out onto the back porch. Her head immediately tilts straight back as she gazed up at the dark sky. “The lights are too bright,” she complains.

This is my chance to finally do something nice. “I have an idea,” I tell her, leading her around the house and climbing into the Mustang.

“Where are we going?” She asks. She still hasn't made eye contact. For once, her hands are kept to herself and her tongue stays well within the confines of her mouth.

“You'll see,” is all I say. I drive out into the desert, past the light pollution of Roswell, out to a place where I've never taken anyone before. Mom actually took me there once before she left. We watched the sunrise over the desert and ate blueberry muffins and drank hot cocoa. I pull off-road and drive over the flat terrain until I can see a large rock formation silhouetted against the sky by the bright moon. “You can see the stars better here,” I tell her as I get out of the car.

Tess follows me and sits down in the dirt gingerly, wincing as she bends her knee.

“Are you OK?” I ask, plunking down next to her.

“Bad knee,” she says simply.

We lie back and watch the stars together, neither of us saying a word for a long time. She's so still that I wonder if she's maybe asleep, but when I turn to look at her, her eyes are wide open, still trained on the sky.

“Why do you like stargazing so much?”

She shrugs, pointing out a few different constellations. “There's Orion the hunter. My first foster mother pointed out his belt. I don't know why I'd never noticed it before. I guess I never thought to look. And there's Taurus the bull. My zodiac sign.”

“Mine too.”

She's quiet again. Finally, she says, “Thank you for helping me on New Years.”

“You're welcome.”

That's it. And you know what? It's enough. It's a truce. We're out under the stars, freezing our asses off, but the night is bright and the inner Buddhist in me feels the energy flowing. Everything's great until I offer her my coat when her flannel proves to be too thin. I shrug it off and try to place it over her shoulders, but I guess my hand grazed the back of her neck because she jumped a mile and wouldn't look at me the rest of the night.

Still, she said goodnight and I didn't hear her crying after the lights went out.

It's a start.

[elodie]

A/N: Thanks to Flamehair, killjoy and Icalynn for the FB! Tess's story will start to come out soon...

ETA: I don't own the rights to any board games listed. Also, all the trivia questions are real questions from the game. They don't call me the Trivial Pursuit juggernaut for nothing


Chapter 6

Dad decided that the best way for us all to bond is to invite Amy and Maria over for dinner. I told him that it would be a bad idea, but did he listen? No, of course not. Who listens to Kyle?

I actually first heard of the plan from Hurricane Deluca herself. She accosted me in the hall at school and proceeded to accuse me of conspiring against her, of trying to ruin her life, of trying to convert her to Buddhism and of trying to make her fat.

I grabbed her shoulders firmly and looked her straight in the eye. “Maria. Breathe. When you calm down, can you please tell me exactly what this is about?”

She took a few deep breaths, and I was indeed laughing at her inside, but I'd never show it outwardly. No, no, this was tame for the Hurricane. This was just a tropical storm so far. No need to exacerbate the situation.

“Mom and I are eating dinner at your house tonight.”

That's it? “C'mon Deluca, don't you think you're blowing this out of proportion? What's the big deal?”

“Jim wants Mom to bond with Tess,” she spat out. To say Maria dislikes Tess would be the understatement of the century. Maria loathes Tess. I honestly don't know why. To my knowledge, Tess and Maria have barely even crossed paths.

I felt the need to defend her against the Tropical Storm. “Hey, lay off her, OK? She's not that bad.”

“Jim's making it a game night.”

Worst. Idea. Ever.

“Oh God,” I moaned, leaning heavily against a locker. “Dad used to be so badass. What happened to him?”

Maria leaned next to me with a huff. “Mom happened to him. Apparently she's been suggesting it for months. She wants us to play Monopoly and Life. Nerd games! I even tried to suggest Poker, even Go Fish, but she wants to play the good old traditional family games.”

I can take the Risk and the Battleship, but Life? Nuh uh, no way. Life is not a manly game. No way is pushing around a little car with pink and blue plastic people stuck in it a way to maintain masculine identity. Dad should know this.

I swear, I really did used to think he was badass. He wore cowboy hats and carried guns, and wore boots that clicked on hard floors like in all those old western movies. I mean, c'mon! How badass would it be to be Sheriff? Now, he's trying to bake things for Amy. Amy, who bakes things for a living. Right, it makes a lot of sense to me too. I thought that when men have midlife crises, that they turn to manly, youth-oriented activities. Y'know, like driving fast cars without a seatbelt, toking the ganja, lifting weights, shaving off all your hair before people started to notice the bald patch.

Nope, Dad's baking and planning game nights.

What's next? Croquet? Knitting? Growing his hair long like Fabio?

I just wince and try to push the image of Dad with Fabio hair to the back of my mind. “So what time does this soirée of torture start?”

“Six. Don't be late. I am not going through this alone.” And with that, the Tropical Storm swept away.

What would Buddha do? I guess he'd take deep breaths and appreciate the efforts my dad is making to bring the family together.

It is times like these when I wish I was still a Catholic. Catholics waged holy wars and kicked heathen ass. No, no. Inner peace. Violence is dangerous to the soul.

Maybe holding in my anger and trying to dissipate it through non-explosive means is actually damaging. I mean, there was that thing on Seinfeld. Serenity now? Was that it? Anyway, it just sets you up for one big explosion. Boom! Nah, my anger is already dissolving. Maybe that's because I see Tess walking down the hall.

She's my pseudo-sister. I shouldn't feel that tightening in my chest and, ahem, certain other places when I see her. I mean, Dad told her that she could call him 'Dad' if she wanted to. She tried that and said it was too weird. I agree. I mean, I'm not obsessed with her. OK, maybe I think about her while jerking off in the shower, but what red-blooded male wouldn't? She's hot. Beautiful. Amazing.

God, her ass looks good in those pants. She smirks at me as she walks by, raising a few fingers in a flirtacious wave. Why do I fall for this? She purposely puts me on the spot and I stupidly fall for it.

I just know she is going to be playing footsie with me during dinner, laughing as my eyes bulge out and I spit food everywhere in surprise. I just know that she'll take special care to lick every finger clean, emphasizing that mouth of hers as much as possible. I just know that she'll make me... Serenity now, serenity now, serenity now... Yeah, that really doesn't work.

And she did. I was right. All during dinner, I felt her foot sliding up my pant leg. I saw her licking her lips clean, licking the barbecue sauce off each tiny finger. Maria kept throwing me strange looks when she saw how heavily I was breathing, but I blamed it on heartburn. She gave me a knowing smirk and there was one more female I wanted to tell off.

Amy wanted to play Monopoly. Maria and I refused. Dad suggested Risk. Maria and Amy groaned. Tess suggested Trivial Pursuit. I agreed, figuring it'll frustrate the non-geniuses in the room enough to quit prematurely. Tess probably wanted to play because she figured she'd win. She probably will.

“Let's play teams,” Tess suggests as she sets up the board.

I look around at the people in the room, counting five, a prime number. “There's an odd number of people.”

She just looks up and smirks. “Oh I know. I'll kick your ass without anyone's help.”

And oh God, did she.

Maria and I were up first. We rolled a two and picked sports and leisure, because I know my sports and Maria knows her leisure. Tess clears her throat and asks, “What chess great from the 1960s was rumored to be playing anonymously on the Web in 2001?”

“Uhhh...” This is a sports question? Fucking A. I glance at Maria for help. She's opening and closing her mouth like a fish, completely without a clue.

“Tick tock...” Tess teased. “Any clue?”

“Uh, um, oh shi-oot.”

“Five, four, three, two-”

“Bobby Fischer?” Maria guesses at the last second. How the fuck did she know that? Tess scowls and shoves the dice back at us. We roll again. Science. Fuck.

“What sea creatures can escape from commercial shrimp nets through gates known as TEDs?”

I know this one. I don't know how I know it, but I do. “Turtles.”

Tess is gobsmacked. She figured she'd win this one easy. Nice try.

We get the next question wrong. Serves us right for choosing history. How were we supposed to know that Nancy Reagan hired a pro-weed author to help her write her memoirs?

Tess is next. She lands on history. Dad clears his throat. He glances at Amy and shifts uncomfortably. “Um, what nation elected a-adult movie star Ilona Staller to parliament, under the slogan: 'Down with nuclear energy, up with s-sexual energy'?”

Oh God, the smirking... “Italy.”

She's right of course. She chooses history again. “What 19th-century U.S. President was exhumed in 1991, so scientists could confirm that he hasn't died of arsenic poisoning?”

Tess pales. She shoves herself up from the table. “I'm tired. I think I'm going to bed.”

“Sure, quit the first time you don't know an answer,” Maria mutters under her breath.

Freezing on her way down the hall, Tess turns around and smirks at Maria. “It was Zachary Taylor. Now, if you don't mind me, I'm going to bed.”

“Is she alright, Jim?” Amy's asking him, that concerned mom look on her face.

Maria elbows me. “I've never heard of Zachary Taylor,” she hisses.

“Neither have I,” I whisper back.

In her defense, Maria is like me in that she's smart but not school/information type smart. She's resourceful and witty, but dead presidents are lost on her. Although, apparently creepy hermit chess players aren't.

After Amy and Maria leave, I knock lightly on Tess's door. I doubt she's asleep, and I just wanted to make sure she's OK. With Tess, you never know. Sure enough, she's awake. She lying on her bed, scribbling in a leather-bound book.

“What?” She asks, too tired to sound hostile.

“Oh, I um, I just wanted to make sure you're OK. I mean, you left pretty quickly.”

She nods, and smiles weakly. “I'm fine Kyle. It was nice of you to ask.”

I took that as a dismissal. “Night Tess,” I say as I back out of the room.

“Night Kyle,” she said softly, her eyes glued to the book in front of her.

What this girl does to me...

[elodie]

A/N: Sorry this took so long to get out! I've been insanely busy lately. SO MUCH WORK. GAH. But I've been making mad moneyz so it's been OK. Thanks to Flamehair, alizaleven, killjoy and Icalynn for the feedback. The song mentioned is 'Autumn Sweater' by Yo La Tengo.

WARNING: This part is pretty disturbing. At least I found writing the last part of it particularly disturbing. But it's necessary and it's not described in detail. You'll see what I mean.



Chapter 7

Tess is one crazy fuck.

No seriously, she is.

I swear, I didn’t mean to drive her into some psychotic rage. I mean, all I did was hand her a letter. That’s it. I mean, sure, maybe I watched a little too closely as she opened it and read through it, but her face just fell.

She’d been doing well lately too. She’d helped out around the house, gone fishing with Dad, and even offered to help Amy out in the shop. But that letter ruined everything. Jesus.

It looked innocent enough, honest. It was in a white envelope, with her name and our address written in neat print, and an American flag on the stamp. I didn’t see where it was post-marked from, or the return address, but I handed it off to her without a second thought.

She opened it slowly, her fingers shaking and her breathing slightly erratic.

“Are you OK?” I asked her, moving to see what the letter said. She stepped back and started to scream. She wasn’t screaming out words or anything, just this static high-pitched wail that sounded so angry and sad and frustrated all at once. “Tess-“ I tried to say, but she socked me in the face and shoved the letter into the garbage disposal and turned it on, still screaming.

“What the hell is going on?” My dad yelled as he barged in from the living room. I was holding my nose in pain, a drip of blood slipping through my fingers. Immediately, Tess stopped screaming and stood up straight, the feral terror in her eyes slipping away as my dad’s presence brought her down to Earth.

“I’m sorry, sir,” She said quietly, folding her hands in her lap and looking down at the floor. She was trembling slightly. I stared at Dad wide-eyed as he assessed the situation. He took two steps forward and tentatively put a hand on Tess’s shoulder. She froze at first, but then wrapped her arms around him tightly, sobbing into his shirt. “I’m so sorry,” she kept muttering as Dad stroked her back.

“It’s OK, Tess,” Dad murmured. “It’s OK.”

He led her to bed early and spent the rest of the hour fishing the remains of the letter out of the garbage disposal. I tried to meditate to take my mind off of Tess, but I couldn’t concentrate. My nose throbbed and I was thinking too many impure thoughts to count, mostly about Tess.

What the fuck was in that letter? What made her flip out? Come to think of it, I know very little about her. I know that her name is Theresa Ava Harding, and she is fifteen years old. She was born in Albuquerque on May 7th, and she is a natural blonde.

Beyond that, I really don’t know shit. She says she’s been through more foster homes than fingers on her hands, but who knows how much of that is fact and how much is hyperbole. She’s only been in the system for a few years. How many, I don’t know exactly, but she was at least twelve when they stuck her in her first foster home, because she told me that she watched the 2004 World Series with her first foster father on TV.

My curiosity killed the cat within me, and I ventured into the living room to see if Dad was willing to shed any light about the Tess situation.

My dad’s eyes were glued to a CNN report on dog food, but he muted it when he noticed me flopping down on the couch beside him. I grunted and rested my feet next to his on the ottoman.

Dad sighed, and sat forward, taking his feet off the ottoman and setting them on the floor. “Son, I know the past few months have been…strange, to say the least. Ever since your mom left, it’s been just the two of us in the house, and I know you got used to that. Tess’s life before she came here was worse than you could imagine. I know I’m never been the perfect parent, but I’ve never laid a hand on you, and I’ve always promised myself that I never will. Tess…well, let’s just say that Tess can’t say that.”

“What do you mean?”

He shook his head, rubbing at his temples like he does when he’s stuck with a hard case at work. “I can’t tell you, Kyle. If Tess wants you to know, she’ll let you know. You might want to write her off as ‘one crazy fuck’, as kids your age like to say.” I rolled my eyes, snorting at how ridiculous the old man sounded. He smirked for a second, before sighing deeply and reaching for his can of beer on the coffee table. “But seriously Kyle, she needs a good home. Be patient with her. She needs us.”

And with that he downed his beer, patted my knee and retreated to his bedroom.

Tess may be one crazy fuck, but at that moment, I realized that I may be in love with her. It wasn’t any great realization that made me want to serenade her outside her window with a bouquet of roses in hand and love in my eyes. No, it was subtler than that. I realized that Dad was right. Even if I didn’t know what she’d been through, it was rough, and she needed love and kindness. I realized in that moment that I never wanted her to hurt like that again.

I took this epiphany back to bed with me. As much as I tried to sleep, all I could think about was Tess and the letter, Tess and the pangs of jealousy I’d feel every time she’d flirt with a guy from school, Tess and her tiny toes snaking their way up my pant leg, Tess and her tiny pink tongue flicking out at me, mischief in her eyes and a “fuck me” smirk circling that perfect tongue of hers.

Just as I was drifting off to sleep, three short raps on my door made me sit up in bed. I climbed out of bed, and opened the door slowly, the opening gradually revealing each stunning inch of the girl I was so helplessly in love with.

“Hey,” she said softly.

“Hey,” I managed to say without stuttering. She slipped around me into my room and fell back against the door, closing it with just a slight click. “What’s going o-“ I tried to ask, but she pushed a finger up against my lips and shushed me before I could finish.

“I need this,” she whispered. She produced a CD from her pocket and put it in my stereo, turning the volume down to barely a whisper. Light strains of some pretty song filled the room. Though it was quiet, each beat felt like thunder as my heart beat heavily in my ears.

“What are you-“

She shushed me again and pushed me back toward my bed, back until the edge of my mattress forced my knees to bend. “Not a word, Kyle,” she half-moaned. The words of the song floated through the room.

When I heard the knock on the door, I couldn’t catch my breath. Is it too late to call this off? We could slip away, wouldn’t that be better? Me with nothing to say, you in your autumn sweater…

Tess stepped up to me nervously and began to unbutton her nightgown, slipping it down to the floor. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath it and I unconsciously moaned.

She climbed into my lap, straddling me on the edge of the bed. I could smell her arousal, feel her trembling, see the questioning in her eyes.

“Tess,” I breathed, but she cut me off by pressing those glorious pink lips to mine. I’d kissed a fair amount of girls, but none of those kisses amounted to anything compared to this one. She wasn’t an expert, and her movements were clumsy compared to some, but she was putting herself out there for me to see, and that was the most beautiful thing about it.

It wasn’t my first time, that had been with Vicky Delaney sophomore year, but I was in love with this girl, and I wasn’t about to let her down. I stroked her cheeks with my thumbs, trailed caressing kisses down her neck, making it all about her. When I was inside her, I moved slowly, kissing her each time she moaned, holding back until I was sure she was sated. It was about Tess. I wanted to make her feel loved, because she was. I loved her. I love Tess.

Later, she lay snuggled into the crook of my arm. I couldn’t tell if she was asleep or not, although I assumed she was. I brushed the hair off her forehead and kissed her there gently. “I love you,” I whispered.

By the time I woke in the morning, she was gone.

Left on my pillow was the ancient leather-bound book I’d seen her writing in so many times. I flipped it open to the page she’d left the ribbon in.

March 1st, 2007
I love you, Kyle, and that is precisely why I cannot stay. Please don’t look for me. Read this journal and you’ll discover that I ruin the people I love. I can’t do that to you. I hope I never see you again, because that means you’ll be safe from me. There are those who will not be able to say that after tomorrow.

My eyes widened as I realized that full impact of what she’d written. Flipping back through pages and pages of her clear, concise handwriting, I realized this journal went back until she was nine, and her handwriting, although neat, wrote with a nine year-old’s voice.

November 29th, 2001
I hate my Daddy sometimes. I hate being home schooled and cooped up with him all day. He’s boring. I want to go to school and play with all the other neighborhood kids. But Daddy says that none of them will love me like he does, that he’s the only one who can love me properly.

January 12th, 2002
Daddy loved me properly again today. It still hurts.

May 7th, 2002
I’m 10 years old today. Daddy loved me properly a lot today, saying it was a birthday present. It hurt a lot after awhile, but Daddy said that love hurts like that.

December 31st. 2002
Daddy doesn’t talk to me much anymore. He says that I’m getting too old for him. He only loves me every few days now.

January 3rd, 2003
I loved Daddy today. He told me that unless I showed him appreciation, he wouldn’t love me anymore ever. So instead I offered to love him. “My darling Tessa,” he cooed, and I melted. I love my Daddy so much. Every time he gets angry with me, all I have to do is kneel in front of him and he’ll love me again.

June 17th, 2003
I hate my Daddy so much. I don’t know what I’ll do. I found blood in my underpants yesterday, and when I told him about it, he said that I was too old to ever be properly loved again. I can’t believe him. I love him so much. Why can’t he love me anymore?

August 12th, 2003
I don’t know what to do. Ever since that day that I bled, Daddy hasn’t touched me. When I tried to undo his belt buckle like every other time he got mad, he slapped me and said that soon it would be time for me to join my mother. Mommy went to heaven when I was a little girl. Why doesn’t Daddy love me? All I want him to do is love me.

September 1st, 2003
I’m a bad girl I’m a bad girl I’m a bad girl I’m a bad girl I’m a bad girl I’m a bad girl I’m a bad girl I’m a bad girl I’m a bad girl I’m a bad girl I’m a bad girl I’m a bad girl. Daddy won’t ever love me anymore. I was so angry with him. He kept talking about how Mommy didn’t know how to love, that she was bad at loving, and how she didn’t want him to love me. Then he’d tell me that he’d never love me again. I slipped out of the house through the bulkhead while he was sleeping and went to the police station, telling them everything. They took Daddy away and now he can’t love me anymore, even if he wanted to. They put me in a house with people I don’t know and I just want my Daddy.

I threw the book down and rushed to the bathroom, vomiting into the toilet. Jesus Christ. Who could do that to her? What kind of father could hurt an innocent little girl like that? I was sick again and again. When I could finally stand on my own two feet, I rushed to my dad’s room, frantically knocking on the door.

“Kyle? What’s going on?” He asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Tess is gone.”