A New Life
Home : Stories by Author : Stories by TwiLightJoy : A New LifeSummary: Tara begins her new life in Sunnydale. Semi-AU, Season 3. Part 2 of ongoing series.
AUTHOR: TwiLightJoy
EMAIL: twi_light64@hotmail.com
SEQUEL TO: No More
RATING: PG
PAIRING: Willow/Tara
NOTES: This is set just after No More
finishes, as Tara first arrives in Sunnydale. In the Buffyverse timeline, A
New Life falls roughly between Revelations and Lovers Walk in Season 3. At the
time I wrote this fic, it was before Tara's birthday as shown on her headstone
in S7's Help was revealed, so I was working off the original air date for Family,
making her birthday in the second week of November. (And I prefer to have it
my way, so Tara's birthday is decidedly NOT October 16th.) Yes, if you're a
stickler for timelines, this is important. If not, then ignore me and read on!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tara's eyes fluttered open as the bus squeaked to a stop in front of a bus station about the same size as the one back home. No, not home any more. Now this is home. "Sunnydale station!" the driver announced as Tara pulled the headphones off her ears, letting them loop around her neck. Lisa Loeb still strummed through "Jake" in the tiny speakers, and Tara rose and stretched, yawning, her lower back giving a quiet pop. She reached for her carry-on bag from the overhead compartment and headed for the front of the bus before stepping into the morning sun.
Hours of being confined on the series of busses made the fresh air and sunshine all the more wonderful, and she took a deep breath, waiting for the driver to retrieve her belongings from under the bus. Taking the hand-truck, Tara grinned and took a good look around the near-desolate parking lot and surrounding area. The first order of business would be to get a place to stay. Probably the lady behind the counter in the station would know of at least one place.
She went inside and stepped up to the counter, asking the middle-aged woman inside if she knew of an inexpensive place that someone new to town could get a small apartment. The woman seemed very nice, and directed her to the Court Street apartments, which were only a couple of blocks away. Tara thanked her, and headed over to check it out. The bus was already rumbling back out towards the highway, the young sorceress being the only passenger being dropped off here.
The place doesn't look that bad, she thought hopefully as the building came into view. It wasn't falling apart or anything, like she'd half-expected it would be. The building was three stories high, brick, and pretty old looking. It wasn't covered in graffiti, which the fair-haired girl took as a good sign. She slipped inside, cart trailing behind her, and followed the arrows on signs directing her to the landlord's office.
Though somewhat hesitant at first, she took a deep breath and knocked at the door. "Come in," a harried sounding voice replied. Opening the door, Tara saw a short, dark, balding man who seemed to be somewhere in his forties seated at a desk that was buried under a small heap of papers. Another tenant had vanished. This was happening with alarming frequency, and he was no longer surprised at how eager the building's previous owner had been to sell. Unaware of this, Tara gave a hesitant smile to the man, and he brightened a bit and smoothed his hair down. "Hello there, young lady, and what can I do for you?"
"I, I'd like an apartment. Just a small one, I, I heard that this w-was a good place to go." She smiled shyly again, fighting the urge to let her hair fall across her face. A new town, a new Tara, right?
"And I take it from the luggage there that you'd like to move in immediately?" he chuckled, and Tara nodded. "By the way, my name's Gil Dickinson. And it so happens, little lady, I have a studio that just opened up on the second floor. Would you like to take a look at it?" Poor girl probably had no idea what she was in for, but he'd try to make it easy on her. All on her own, she'd need someone to help her out, anyway.
Tara nodded again eagerly. "Y-yes, sir!"
The man smiled and opened a cabinet with one of the many keys that dangled from the right side of his belt. "Let's see, two twenty-seven, here we go." He took a pair of keys from the cabinet and turned back to Tara. "You can leave the cart right here in the office if you'd like. I'll lock the door once we leave; it'll be perfectly safe here. Now the stairs are to your left," the man directed. Tara turned and headed up the stairs, and the landlord followed her up and took the lead once they reached the second floor.
The floors were covered with worn-looking but clean black and white tile, and doormats sat in front of most of the apartment doors. After a short walk and another left turn, the salt-and-pepper-haired man unlocked apartment 227, the green painted door swinging in to reveal a compact, sparsely furnished dwelling. "Like I said, it's a studio, you have your living room right here, the kitchen/dining area right over there." No walls separated this space and the couch was nearly butted up to the side of the fridge, but there was a narrow doorway on the right side of the main room, which Mr. Dickinson led Tara towards. "Then the bedroom's in here, and the bathroom is on the left. Take your time and look it over."
Tara smiled and did just that, walking slowly around the bedroom, which had room for little more than a bed, and checking out the minimal closet space and the bathroom. Everything looked well used, but obviously cared for and, most importantly, clean. The living room area was pretty much the same, a soft yet rather shabby couch and an old television.
"Everything you see here comes with the place, last tenant left a lot behind, but you can feel free to get more furniture on your own." Tara nodded and walked through the kitchen, peering into the cupboards, which seemed perfectly adequate for one person. "Now, there are a few rules. We've got a lot of people on a lot of different schedules here, so you need to keep it quiet most of the time. No blasting music, no parties, that kind of thing. You get reported for too much noise, and you won't see me looking this happy when I have to come up to talk to you about it. Just be considerate of your neighbors, and they'll be considerate of you." He gave her an appraising glance and winked. "You don't look the type, but I figured I'd let you know anyway.
"We've got our own laundry in the basement, the machines run on quarters. No pets. Right now it's past the 15th of the month, so what you pay today will cover you 'til the first, it's $100, if you decide to take it. I'll also need a $100 deposit. After this month, it's two hundred a month 'til you clear out. If the place is still in this good shape, you'll get the full deposit back. If not, I'll keep it; if it'll cost me over a Franklin to fix what damage you did, you'll get a bill from me. And again, I won't be smiling." Gil raised his eyebrows, making sure this girl knew he meant business but wasn't totally unapproachable. "So what do you think, young lady? Any other questions?"
"Um, are the utilities included?" she asked. "And what about the um, the phones?"
Gil smiled. "Utilities are included, but the phone's up to you. You can call from my office to set up a time to get them to hook your line up, but I'm sure not paying for it!" he grinned, liking this girl already.
Tara nodded eagerly. "Sounds r-reasonable. And it's, it's okay for me to move right in? Now? A-and, is cash good?"
After finally getting the sofa set up exactly right, Tara sat back to relax for a while. She'd been here for a full week now, had already gotten enrolled in the high school and secured a part-time job at the Espresso Pump a few blocks away. The school was off this week for Thanksgiving break, but she had managed to do quite well for the time she had. Instead of the scratched wooden kitchen table set that had come with the place, something the previous tenant had left, she was told, Tara had picked up an old patio set second-hand. It was more quirky and much more her style than the traditional setup, and made the studio seem more her own. She had decorated the whole apartment on a shoestring budget, and was very glad that she would be receiving her first paycheck tonight. After all, December first was coming up very quickly.
It was time to start heading over to her afternoon shift. Tara sighed and tied her sneakers, then stood and walked to the bathroom. Here she brushed her hair and teeth, pleased to be having such a great opportunity to live her own way. It was a lot more responsibility than she was used to, but so far it was paying off. Looking at her reflection in the mirror by itself was an improvement, thinking back to two weeks ago when she'd had that bruise across her cheek. Next week she decided she would call Beth, once she was at her own house instead of Tara's father's. No one had come after Tara so far, so she seemed to be in the clear as far as they were concerned. She did want to talk to Beth, though. Make sure she understood why Tara had felt she had to hide what she was doing.
She had also been working on her college application to U.C. Sunnydale, though she hadn't received her SAT scores yet. She had the phone number they had given her when she'd gone to take them, and had notified them of her change of address immediately. It was really the only piece of mail she was expecting to get. She wondered about Donnie for a few moments, wondering what he would be doing once he graduated. He hadn't even bothered with the SATs; it may have been pretty obvious that he wouldn't do well on them. After all, he had been held back twice throughout his school career, and was currently on his second senior year. With that sort of academic record, he couldn't expect schools to be jumping at him except as an athlete, and if he was sought after for that, the best he could expect was fighting his way through his classes. He was one of the best wrestlers in the division, but how far could that actually get someone?
Tara sighed and stopped herself from thinking further about that. She did have somewhere to be, anyway. She tied her hair up, still not really used to the style, preferring to wear it down most of the time, but food service regulations needed to be adhered to, as her shift supervisor had explained during her training period. When she was satisfied that her blonde tresses were adequately pulled upwards and sticking out from the bun she'd loosely piled on her head, she made her way out of the apartment, grabbing her keys and tromping down the stairs.
Arriving at the Espresso Pump, which buzzed merrily with customers getting sugared up on mochas, many of whom would be Tara's classmates once school started back up, Tara slipped behind the counter and into the back room. Here she pulled on the apron with the "Tara" name tag pinned to it and tied the straps around her waist comfortably, then clocked in. "Tara, you're in section three today! Mary already got table 12, but the rest of them are yours. Soon as 12 clears out, Mary's off for the day and it's all yours," her shift's manager, Denise, said.
Tara nodded and sent a grateful smile to Mary, who grinned and winked at the blonde as she carried table 12's order out to the front. Tara blushed in reply, ducking her head, and then checked to make sure her notebook was still in her apron pocket, along with a ballpoint pen. Happily, both were still there, and Tara made her way out front. She began with table 11, making sure they had gotten time to look over their menus and took their orders. It was helping her a great deal to have to talk to a lot of people; her stutter was noticeably less and she felt more confident already. She hoped it would stick with her when she wasn't here, because it actually felt pretty good to be bolder.
About an hour and a half into her shift, a group of five teens came in and took a seat in the 15, one of the booths. First was a petite blonde girl with a ponytail, laughing. Then came a tall-ish guy with dark, tousled hair and a broad grin, a stunning looking, long-haired brunette she had seen earlier in the week on his arm. Next was a short young man with spiky red hair and a stubble-covered face wearing a wry smile, almost a smirk, and finally, quite possibly the most gorgeous girl Tara had ever seen in her life. She had shoulder-length, straight red hair that seemed to float around her delicate-featured, faerie-like face. Her eyes were the most beautiful color, light brown flecked generously with green. She was, unfortunately, hand in hand with the spiky haired guy. Still, it was enough to give the Wiccan the biggest case of nerves she'd had all week. They sat in her section. She would have to talk to that beautiful Titania. The young sorceress wiped her palms on the front of her apron and picked up five menus, taking them to 15.
"Hello, w-welcome to the Espresso Pump," Tara said, handing each person a menu with a wavering smile. Her hand shook as she handed the redhead her menu, and she felt her cheeks color as their eyes met.
"Hey, you're new here," the brunette observed. "I think I saw you on the night shift Tuesday."
The sorceress nodded. "I just m-moved here. I mean, l-last, last week," she said, her stutter returning pretty much full-force. Way to sound like a dolt, Tara, she berated herself. She didn't usually make that much conversation with the customers, but couldn't really help herself. The redhead's proximity was a pretty big distraction, and she did have the urge to make sure she would be remembered. Hopefully in a positive way, not in a total spaz way.
"Is it Tare-uh or Tar-uh?" the taller guy asked, indicating her name badge with a nod, his menu open in his hands.
"It's, it's Tara. So the, uh, the first one." She gave a shy grin to the friendly group.
The tiny blonde smiled. "Well then, welcome to Sunnydale, Tara. I'm Buffy. You'll probably see me a lot. Are you going to be going to Sunnydale High?"
"Yeah, actually. I'm, it's my senior year." She was getting more control over her stutter again, talking sort of slowly to make sure her tongue wouldn't stumble over the words.
"Well, hey! We're seniors, too!" the beautiful redhead piped up with an eager and adorable grin.
"Some of us twice," the stubble-faced guy added, then glanced around the table. "By some of us, of course, I mean only me." He shrugged. "Five-year program."
"That's really cool," Tara said with a lopsided smile. "I m-mean, that I'll be going to school with you. Now, at least I'll know someone. Um, sort of." Suddenly remembering that she was supposed to be doing her job, she fumbled around in her apron pocket for her notebook and pen. "Are you guys, um, ready to order, or do you n-need more time?"
The brunette looked over her menu for a moment. "I'm not quite ready yet, what about you?" she asked, nudging the taller guy.
"Another vote for more time," he said, flipping the page.
Buffy looked up with a helpful smile. "Maybe you should just stop back in a few minutes. We've been pretty busy with the chatting. But I can say that water would be of the good."
"Agreeing with that statement," the guy with spiky hair stated smoothly. The other three went with that, and Tara was set to bring five waters out. She wished that her other four tables would completely disappear for a while, but no such luck. She brought out table 11's lunches and refilled coffees at 14, then checked up on 12 and 13. The two young men at 13 were ready for their check, so Tara quickly delivered the check and returned to Buffy and her friends. She had been completely terrified that she would spill something since her hands were sort of shaky, but made it there without incident.
"So, are you ready now?" she inquired, placing the glasses of ice water before each of the teens. "To, to order?" Arg, could I sound more out of it?
"This time we're set," the taller of the young men said amicably. "Ladies first." He gestured to the brunette, who ordered concisely, followed by Buffy. Next the girl with the beautiful greenish eyes ordered, and Tara grinned giddily as she wrote the order down. The girl smiled in reply, her lips curving gently upwards with an almost playful look. Very nice. Focus, Tara, come on! Managing to pull her eyes away from the redhead, she took both of the young men's orders, promising to be back as soon as possible.
She posted the orders for 15 back at the kitchen, leaning against the wall briefly to catch her breath. Why couldn't the other tables disappear? At least she knew she would see the girl at school, but that was a different environment. More people, more uncertainty. Maybe one of them would volunteer to show Tara around the school. Maybe the redhead, she thought hopefully. I really need to find out her name, I can't keep calling her Titania or Red. Denise tilted her head and approached Tara. "You all right, sweetie? You look pretty bushed," she said with concern.
"No, n-no, I'm okay. Really, I just needed a little breather." The witch straightened and made her way back out front to check on the rest of her tables while table 15's orders were prepared. As she passed the booth she gave a smile and a little wave. She has a boyfriend, remember! Falling for straight girls will never end well.
She delivered refills on coffees for table 11 this time, and table 14 ordered dessert. When she put up the dessert orders, table 15's orders were up. Praying to anyone who would listen that she wouldn't drop or spill anything, Tara lifted the large tray and brought it out to the booth. She got everyone's orders right, and hoped no one would notice that she took a little extra time and care with the faerie-girl. She made eye contact as often as possible, and talked a little with everyone at the table, though she was careful not to neglect her other customers.
The lunch crowd was thinning out, and business was starting to slow down. It probably wouldn't get busy again until around five or six, which was just before Tara's shift ended. She excused herself to bus table 14 and get their check, as well as table 11's. A few customers filtered in, but only one sat in Tara's section. After delivering the gentleman a menu and a glass of water, she returned to Buffy's table to check in on things. The brunette wanted another mocha, but no one else had any requests.
All too soon, the teens were ready to leave. Tara tried to entice them with the Espresso Pump's delicious apple turnovers, but it was unsuccessful. She delivered the check, and they all moved to cover it, but the two guys ended up splitting the bill. She talked a little more with Buffy and the other two girls, discovering the guy's names were Xander (the taller) and Oz (the spiky-haired). The brunette was Cordelia, but the group affectionately called her "Cor" or "Cordy."
And as they rose to leave, Tara stuck around hoping to ask the redhead her name. Before she could ask, though, the brown-green eyed girl turned a 100-watt smile on her. "Bye, Tara, I'll see you in school, I guess. It was nice meeting you!"
"I-it was nice meeting you, too..." Tara managed, her heart hammering.
"Willow! I'm Willow," she filled in quickly, realizing she hadn't introduced herself before. Oz reached for her hand, and she laced her fingers easily with his, making Tara wonder what Willow's hands felt like. They looked so soft.... "Bye!" the redhead repeated as they walked off.
Tara let out a long breath as the teens disappeared out the door. A slow smile spread across her face and she watched them walking down the street through the shop's front window. "Willow," she whispered, letting the name roll off her tongue. Perfect, really. Willow.
Sunnydale High was, to Tara, big. Big, and full of people.
Tara had already gotten her locker assignment and class schedule, and everything seemed pretty cool so far. She had seen Buffy a few times in the hallways, and once had caught a glimpse of Willow heading into her Chemistry class, but for the most part her schedule didn't seem to mesh with any of the students she had met in the Espresso Pump. That wasn't so bad, though she could have done with a little more Willow.
A few of the students in her classes were pretty friendly, there was one guy, Jonathon, who had been really nice and offered to help catch her up in math. They were a little further ahead here than her old school was, so she was about a week behind in the math lessons. Jonathon had promised that it wouldn't be hard to catch up, and they both had a study period after lunch where they could work on it. The bell rang and students made their way through the door; most of them had their lunch period next, Tara included.
The cafeteria was also a world of big. There seemed to be a lot of people sitting outside eating, but until she had made a few friends, she decided to stay indoors. Maybe she could meet someone in here, anyway. Tara paid for her lunch and looked around for a small, unoccupied table, finding one next to the window.
The sun filtered down through the leaves of a medium-sized palm onto a picnic table, and as the witch watched through the glass, one of the faculty members she had yet to meet sat down at the table. He wore round-framed glasses and had a serious expression on his face as he looked around the courtyard. A moment later, a blonde girl came up from behind the teacher and sat beside him - she was pretty sure it was Buffy. The teacher jumped when he saw her, then hastily removed his glasses and polished them vigorously, in what Tara thought was an attempt to look nonchalant. The girl began to speak animatedly, and Tara was now almost positive it was Buffy by her mannerisms.
The teacher and Buffy talked for a while, and one of the guys from the Espresso Pump, Xander, joined them at the table. He had a broad grin and Tara could see his profile as he spoke, gesturing now and again. Buffy was chuckling and the teacher smiled hesitantly, almost like he was afraid of looking like he was enjoying himself too much. Tara felt a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, and wished she could go out there and sit with them. They looked like they were having a good time.
"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" a male voice asked. The blue-eyed girl started and turned away from the window, just as a certain redhead in a knit cap started to head towards the table outside to join Buffy. Looking up, Tara saw a raven-haired, Goth-looking young man before her, with a bag lunch in his hand.
"N-n-no, I'm ... I'm a party of one today," Tara answered with a slight sigh. "You're welcome to sit here, though."
The boy smiled, showing a row of even, white teeth. He really had a nice smile, she observed. "Thanks. You're new here, aren't you? I saw you in my history class first thing this morning. I'm Michael."
"Hi, Michael. I'm Tara," she said, extending her hand, which he shook politely. It probably looked incongruous to have them seated together, she in her long patterned skirt and airy shirt, he clad head to toe in black. Neither of them minded, though. It was good to have company. "I just transferred here from up north."
Michael nodded, digging through the bag looking for something. "That's cool. There's a lot of people here, but don't be intimidated - I'm sure you'll fit in pretty easily." He looked up and noticed Tara gazing out the window again, focusing on Willow, who held a witch PEZ dispenser and studying it now and again. He smiled, realizing she wasn't aware he was looking at her, and gently asked, "Have you met them yet? Buffy and her friends?"
The blonde blushed and looked down, her hair falling down to partially hide her face. "Um, yeah, I w-work at the Espresso Pump? They came in the other day, some of them." She tucked the hair on the right side of her face back behind her ear and smiled shyly. "They seemed really ... nice. Buffy introduced herself...."
"They are really nice. Kinda weird sometimes, but hey, who am I to talk?" the youth grinned disarmingly. "Lots of people think I'm pretty weird." He turned to the window and Tara followed his gaze. "I'm sure if you've met Buffy, you know who Xander and Willow are. They've been pretty much best friends since the first day of kindergarten. Xander, he's kind of the class clown type, sarcastic a lot, but a real nice guy. He's dating Cordelia Chase, have you seen her?" Tara nodded, absorbing every word and filing it away for future reference. Michael continued, "Kind of still puzzled by that one myself. Now, Willow, she's really smart. Amazingly smart. Like last year, she filled in for our Computer Science teacher when Miss Calendar..." He searched for a delicate way to put it, but was coming up blank. "When she ... died. Anyway, they're really close, Willow and Xander. If you see one of them, the other isn't usually far behind.
"And that older guy, the scholarly looking one, he's the librarian, Mr. Giles. We had another librarian the year before who just vanished towards the end of the semester. So we got Mr. Giles. That was two years ago, when we were sophomores. We see him a lot more than the old librarian. It's kind of cool, you know, that he's not always cooped up in there. He gets out, talks to the students." Tara smiled, thankful to have Michael informing her of everything going on. He seemed pretty nice. Michael returned the smile, and the both glanced towards the window as Oz approached the picnic table outside. "And that's Oz. His real name's Daniel Osbourne, but even the teachers call him Oz now. He plays lead guitar for Dingoes Ate My Baby, and he's pretty quiet. Introspective, maybe, would be the better word. He's been with Willow for around a year or so, about as long as Xander has been with Cordelia. Buffy, I don't think I've ever seen her with a steady guy. There is this dark-haired girl I keep seeing her with, though...."
Tara immediately turned to face Michael, a surprised look on her face. "I'm not saying they're together," he chuckled, "just that I see them together a lot. Maybe they are, though, who knows? Our quarterback, Larry? I don't know if you've seen him yet ... a big guy with short hair, blue eyes?" Tara shook her head. "Anyway, he's the president of our school's GSA. Gay/Straight Alliance," he clarified. "We never had one before this year, he kind of pushed to get it approved. Principal Snyder couldn't say no in the end. With Larry being really popular and really out, a lot of people go to the meetings. Most of the football team, actually, it's kind of funny. But I've never seen Buffy at the meetings." He shrugged and took a gulp out of his thermos.
"So you go? To, to the meetings?" Tara asked hesitantly.
"Yeah, of course. It's a good time, and it promotes tolerance and not being shoved into lockers." He grinned. "The football guys used to be pretty bad about that, before. Now it's mostly just my appearance that gets me in the lockers, I guess." Tara immediately had the Concerned Face, but Michael waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it, Tara. It's their problem, not ours."
Tara nodded, understanding immediately. She related to that. "So, um, when are the meetings?" Her cheeks reddened slightly. "I'd, I'd like to check that out."
"There's one tonight, actually. We meet once a week in Room 248, upstairs in the east wing, after the last class lets out. It usually runs about an hour. If you're free, we'd like to have you there."
Tara took a deep breath and turned the doorknob to room 248, pulling it open. A surprisingly large number of students were inside, seated not in traditional classroom rows but in a large circle, chatting with one another. Finally spotting Michael, she made her way over to where he sat.
"Hey, Tara, you made it!" he greeted her with yet another smile. Turning to the honey-haired girl beside him, he said, "This is the girl I was telling you about, from lunch. Amy, this is Tara. Tara, Amy."
"Hi, nice to meet you. Any friend of Michael's is a friend of mine." She smiled and seemed very genuine, which Tara liked immediately.
"Nice to meet you, too," the blonde girl said, taking a seat on Michael's right. "There sure are a lot of people here," she observed. "I have to admit that when you said a lot, I-I didn't think you would mean this many."
"Yeah," Michael said, "pretty much everyone's here now. We should be getting started here any min-"
Before the word made it out of the Goth's mouth, a big blonde guy in a red and white letterman's jacket stood up at the front of the room. "All right, let's get started." He grinned charmingly as everyone quieted and turned to the front. "Welcome to the Sunnydale High GSA! I hope you all had a great break, with the family members and all." A few groans and good-natured chuckles from the students. "Well, you seem to have made it back in one piece, anyway! For those of you who don't know me, I'm Larry Blaisdell, your GSA president as well as the Razorbacks starting quarterback." His football team buddies cheered enthusiastically - Sunnydale High was having a pretty good season. Larry beamed and continued, "Now we'll start this out the same as usual, I know I saw some new faces today, so here's what we do. We'll go around the circle and introduce ourselves. Just tell us your name, how old you are, and this time, tell us something you did over break. Start with Rick!" Larry clapped and mimed tossing a football to a dark haired student with deep brown eyes, who introduced himself as Rick, leading off the round.
Students in turn introduced themselves and gave a brief anecdote of something that happened on break. Tara was surprised to see Mary, one of the young waitresses from the Espresso Pump, who told everyone that she had "finally met someone, I hope" over break. This earned a resounding cheer from the students. When it was Tara's turn, she gulped, immediately forgetting what she'd planned to say, then stammered "Hi, I'm Tara, Maclay, um, I just turned 18..." more cheers from the students, who didn't seem to mind her nervousness, "... and over break I um, I moved here. Oh, and I got a job!" After Michael spoke, she whispered to him, "That didn't sound too bad, did it?"
He shook his head. "You did fine, don't worry about it. Everyone in this room is pretty cool, most of the time."
After the introductions were finished, Larry introduced the week's topic, a discussion about the upcoming 50th anniversary of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and how it relates to current events. Tara was kind of surprised that a lot of the people in the room had actually read up on stuff that was going on not just in the US, but all around the world, in terms of gay rights. It was pretty cool, and the discussion was going well. After a while Larry stood again to announce that the meeting was over for the week. "And next week we're going to talk about a subject near and dear to all of us - the Winter Formal! So be thinking about that, and report back to us next week!"
The students, now breaking off into smaller groups, many of them still discussing the meeting's topic amongst themselves, slowly filtered out of the room. Tara rose and stood near Michael and Amy, not wanting to be on her own again so soon. Before she could decide what to say to them, she felt a tap on her shoulder. "Hi, Tara?"
The witch jumped a little bit, startled that someone would come up to talk to her, and she turned and found herself face to face with Mary. "Hi, Mary. Um, what's up?"
Mary smiled and tucked her dark curls back behind both ears. "I'm kinda surprised to see you here. I mean, here, the meeting. I knew you'd be going to school here already. So, you have the night off?" she asked.
"Uh, yeah, Michael told me about the m-meetings, and I thought I should check it out. Um, and Denise had me on all weekend, but I'm on nights starting Wednesday. Accommodating the school hours and all." She smiled nervously.
"That's cool, I'm on the same hours as you most of the time, then." Mary hesitated, looked down, and then back up. "So. Nice seeing you. I just wanted to say hi, but I should go, though. Uh, bye." With that, the dark-haired waitress turned and disappeared out the door.
"Bye?" Tara said. "Um, okay."
Michael chuckled. "Well, let's get going, then. I'm sure you two will see each other later," he said and nudged Tara's arm.
"W-what? I mean, yeah, we, we work together," the blonde said. "So, we see each other a lot. Kind of."
Michael shook his head. "Yeah. Well, Amy and I were gonna go hang out at the Bronze. If you're up for going...?" he trailed off, leaving the invitation open.
"Yeah! It would be cool if you could come with us, Tara," Amy added excitedly. "There's supposed to be a DJ tonight instead of a live band, I heard."
Tara nodded and gave a half-smile. "That sounds pretty fun. If you're sure you want me to go?"
"Of course we want you to go," Michael grinned. "We wouldn't have invited you otherwise."
"Okay, then. I'll go. Um, what's the Bronze?"
Bass-heavy music filled the air as the door swung open into the dimly illuminated club. Teens bobbed to the rhythmic pulses on the dance floor, as others sat around tall tables or lounged on couches socializing. To Tara's left was a series of pool tables, where still more youth of Sunnydale joked and shot pool, guzzling cups of soda. This place was pretty crowded, but in a more casual, comfortable way than at school. As she followed Amy and Michael further into the Bronze, her eyes wandered over everything possible, ranging from the physical structure to the decor to the students themselves.
Michael led the way up a set of stairs to the club's upper level, which was reasonably more quiet and secluded than below. "So," the dark-clad young man said, dropping down on a deep red couch against one wall near the overlooking balcony, "what do you think?" Amy took a seat next to Michael, looking down over the crowd.
"I think, wow. I thought the Espresso Pump was pretty much the only place people went to hang out," Tara admitted. "My place is kinda close to this, I'm surprised I didn't know about it before."
Amy turned back to Tara, who sat in an overstuffed matching armchair opposite the couch. "The Bronze is one of the more choice night spots around here. The adults usually like the Espresso Pump at night, after they get out of work, so it's more common for us to head over here after dark."
Tara nodded. "You know, I had noticed that. About the high school students being a little more scarce at night, at work." She peered down as Amy had been doing, watching for a moment the almost hypnotizing motion of the dancing crowd. Shaking her head slightly as if to clear it, she turned her attention back to her friends. "So what do you two like to do, for fun?"
A smile tugged at Amy's lips. "Well, lots of things. We sometimes hang out here, and on Wednesday nights, the Sun plays these really cool old black-and-white monster movies from the 50s. They let everyone in for really cheap, too, so it's a good deal. Then sometimes we shop together...."
"There's a bunch of little shops on Main Street, I'm sure you've seen them," Michael added. "Since you work at the Espresso Pump and all, they're pretty close together. We like the shops better than the mall, usually. All the mall has going for it is Hot Topic."
"And lots of boys," Amy laughed, Michael nodding his head in amused agreement.
Tara grinned. "That sounds neat. The, the shops. I haven't had a lot of time to check them out yet, besides a couple of the second-hand stores where I bought stuff for my apartment. But I have tomorrow night off, too. Maybe we could all...? I mean, if you want to?"
"That sounds cool," Michael said agreeably. "We could show you some of the more interesting places to go. We know a couple of the owners of the better stores, 'cause we're kind of regulars there." He tilted his head questioningly, his dark brows drawing together. "Wait, your apartment?"
Tara bowed her head a bit, arms loosely folded around her middle, looking across at Michael, then Amy. "Yeah. I um, kind of moved here on my own. My mom..." the blonde sighed, "my mom passed away a couple years ago, and my dad, well, he's less than fun to be around, if you know what I mean." She absently rubbed at the little scar on her elbow, the last one he'd ever give her. "So, I um, pretty much took off. Had the money to make it this far, and I got a little place for myself. Cheap, small, but my own." She looked expectantly at the pair seated on the couch as music continued to thrum around them.
"Wow," Amy murmured. "That's amazing. You're really brave, Tara. I don't think I'd have the courage to take off like that as young as we are."
Michael gave a minute nod. "Yeah, completely. Amy's mom, um...." He turned to Amy, his lips forming a thin line, as if asking if she was ready to talk about it with Tara.
Amy swallowed, meeting Michael's gaze, then turning again to Tara. "My mom's gone now, too. It's been almost two years. My dad and mom weren't together then, hadn't been for a while, but he lives in Sunnydale, too. So I live with him now, but it still feels kind of weird to be there. We were never really close, so it's always sort of awkward and tense being there. That's why it's so good to have Michael," she smiled at the boy gratefully. "He's good at making me smile and getting me out of the house when it gets to be too much."
The Goth shrugged. "I do what I can."
Tara smiled reassuringly at the two friends. "I'm glad you have him, too." She was silent a moment, deciding how much to tell them. She didn't know them very well, but both of them had been really nice so far. She felt like she could trust them, which was a lot for her. It took a while before people could earn Tara's trust, since in the past most people she had trusted turned on her. "I ... I didn't really have anybody. At school, everyone either teased me or completely ignored me. I didn't fit there, n-not with anybody. I felt really alone most of the time, and at home things were even worse. That, that's part of the reason I left. I didn't really have a way out, besides this."
"Well, you're here now. Amy and me, we look out for each other," Michael said. "And now we'll look out for you, too." Amy nodded happily, glad her social circle had broadened ever so slightly.
Tara brightened, somewhat in awe that she had been accepted so fully. It was really amazing to have actual friends. New territory, but very welcome.
Tara's second day of school went a lot more smoothly than the first. The main highlight of the day had been at lunch. Tara and Michael had the same window table they had taken yesterday, and when they saw Amy, she was talking with Willow on one of the benches outside.
The conversation went on intensely for a few minutes, and Amy was writing a few things down. She handed the paper over to Willow after folding it into quarters, and then the two girls parted ways; Amy coming inside and Willow stuffing the paper into her left front pocket as she headed over to the picnic table where Cordelia, Xander, and Buffy sat. Easily spotting her friends at the window table, Amy threaded her way through the milling students and pulled up a chair next to Michael.
"Hey, Amy, whatcha up to?" the ebon-haired young man asked with a smile, tossing her an apple from his brown bag lunch.
"Oh, just talking to Willow, giving her some advice," she replied, polishing the apple with a napkin before taking a bite of it.
Tara's eyes lit up. Willow, she thought giddily, and let out an audible sigh. Blushing, she turned to the window, then realizing she could see Willow by looking that way, turned back to her lunch, not meeting Michael or Amy's eyes the whole time.
"What did she need?" the Goth gently prodded, a grin spreading over his features as he looked pointedly at the top of Tara's down-turned head.
Amy followed his gaze and then gave him a confused look. "Nothing much, she just had a question about how to reverse the effects of ... uh..."
Now Tara looked up. "Reverse the effects of...?" her wide blue eyes almost imploring for the rest of the sentence.
"...Of a spell. Like, before she casts it," Amy said hesitantly.
"You mean like, if you only had a light spell, but what you really wanted was a darkness spell?" Tara asked quietly, looking around to see that no one was taking note of their conversation. "Or more like if you were gonna um, do the Alice in Wonderland thing, maybe grow something really big and then shrink it back down?"
Amy positively beamed. "Closer to the light/dark deal. That's pretty much what she wanted my advice on," she affirmed in a hushed tone.
Michael grinned even wider and leaned back in his chair. "Why, Tara Maclay! New girl, independent soul, and practitioner of the Art. Is there anything you can't do?" Tara gave the pair a half-smile, bowing her had modestly.
"You know, this is really exciting," Amy enthused, "now we can take her to the Magic Shop for sure!"
Tara's eyes widened in surprised pleasure. "There's a magic shop? No way, I never saw it!"
"It's a basement store, below street level," Michael explained. "So there's just a sign on the rail next to the stairs. A lot of people don't notice it, which is usually better for us."
Another realization hit her, and she sat bolt upright in her chair. "And Willow's a witch, too?" Suddenly of how much attention she could have attracted, had anyone been looking in their direction, she slumped down in her chair and spoke more quietly, leaning across the table to look Amy in the eye. "Is Willow a witch?"
Amy nodded. "Well, sort of. More of a dabbler, really, right now. She can do a few things, but I haven't seen anything really major yet. She does have a lot of power, but not much practice or control yet."
"She's coming along, though," Michael said. Then, changing the subject, he suggested, "So how about after school ... we go hit the shops?"
"I've been thinking it's time for something new," Amy stated, running a hand through her longish, light-hued locks. "I'm thinking brunette."
"M'lady, that sounds fabulous," the raven-haired boy said lightly.
~~
Emerging from the salon, Amy shook her head, enjoying the lighter feel of her shorter hair. "It looks so good, Amy," Michael said for the fourth time.
"You would say that - you picked the color, after all," Amy smirked.
"No," he clarified, "my first choice was black. This was my second favorite." He shot a playful wink over his shoulder to Amy and Tara.
Amy lightly swatted him on the arm. "Your first choice is always black, I automatically have to discount it."
Tara smiled. "It does look really nice, Amy. It brings your eyes out more."
"Know what would really make them stand out? Black." The three friends shared a laugh and crossed the street, heading toward the magic shop.
"Wait 'til you see the store, Tara," Amy said. "Andi has all kinds of books and potions and candles and artifacts...." They went down the stairs and opened the door, the overhead bell chiming its high-pitched greeting. The light filtered through the high windows and doorway, reflecting through multiple sets of crystalline wind chimes dangling from the ceiling. The air smelled deliciously of a wide variety of incense and scented candles, but the store was strangely quiet.
"Andi?" Michael queried. "Where are you? In the back room?"
"Come on, I'll show you this really cool book I want..." Amy stated, leading Tara to the side, where row upon row of leather-bound tomes sat ready to dispense their information to anyone with the curiosity to look inside.
Michael looked worried. "I'm gonna go around to the back, she doesn't usually take this long to get out here."
Amy now showed concern, as well. "You're right. Even if she is in the back, she usually calls to us or comes right out. I'll go with you. Tara, stay here, okay? We'll be right back."
"O-okay," Tara said hesitantly. Something seemed ... off. She continued to look over the items shelved in neat rows, not really observing the things before her, listening carefully for Amy and Michael.
Within moments, she heard a sudden, sharp intake of breath.
Stumbling feet.
A groan of "Oh my god."
A whimpered "No, Andi, no!"
Tara headed swiftly to the place where Amy and Michael had disappeared, and saw them frozen in place, clutching to one another. Amy's face was buried in Michael's shoulder, shaking with sobs, and the boy stared numbly down. All she could see of what he was looking at was ... a shoe?
Oh god. A shoe with a very pale, extremely still leg in it.
Tara, Amy, and Michael sat numbly in a rounded corner booth at the Espresso Pump down the street, cradling steaming oversize cups of cocoa. Amy's eyes were red-rimmed, as were Michael's, his dark eyeliner smeared into a caricature of Goth, but both had seemingly run out of tears to shed.
Tara had been the only one who had really been able to move at first, and had run upstairs to call the police. They had arrived swiftly with an ambulance following them, but the EMTs had only been able to strap the empty shell of Andi onto a gurney and take her to the morgue.
Then had been the seemingly endless series of questions. Tara had again been able to say the most, what had happened, but Amy and Michael were both heavily questioned as well. Amy had wept, but Michael first lashed out with rage before finally faltering into tears. They had finally been told that none of them were suspects, and an officer offered to drive each of them home.
None of the teens really felt like going back home, though, and instead had come here, to the Espresso Pump. Denise had given them a secluded booth, and the mugs of cocoa on the house. She had offered to let Tara have the following day off, but the blonde had declined. She needed the money; besides, it might take her mind off things for a while.
"I should - I should probably call my dad," Amy managed, still not breaking her staring contest with the cocoa mug. Those were pretty much the first words she'd said since the police quit asking her about Andi.
"Yeah. Me too," Michael stated blandly. It was almost like someone had come up with a mystical Hoover and sucked the spirit out of him.
Mary approached the table hesitantly, blue apron around her slim waist and deep brown eyes full of concern. All she had heard was that the friends had been out shopping and had walked in to one of the stores and found the shopkeeper's body. They all looked shaken and shocked, and Mary wanted nothing more than to take away their pain. Unfortunately, all she could offer was her support and more cocoa. "Hey," she said quietly. "Do you, do you need anything?"
Amy turned her blank gaze in Mary's direction, and Michael merely shook his head. Tara sent a thankful look in the waitress's direction. "Thanks, Mary, but we're ... we don't need anything." Saying 'we're okay' was pretty much not a part of Tara's vocabulary at this point. Things were far from okay.
"I gotta go call home," Michael said mechanically, rising from the booth, leaving his cocoa untouched. Amy got up and followed him to the pay phone up front, still speechless.
Mary looked around and took a seat next to Tara. "I can't even imagine what ... any of this is like for you, Tara. I just wanted to let you know that if you need someone, someone to talk to. I'm here, any time." She pressed a slip of paper into the Wiccan's hand. "My number," she explained. "I'm serious, if you need someone to talk to, give me a call, day or night."
Tara's already vulnerable body language softened even more. "I - I don't know what to say. I mean, I think I've already exhausted 'thank you' at this point. But really, it means a lot for you to offer. I'll ... I'll keep it in mind." Mary's answering smile was compassionate and slightly hopeful.
At that moment, Michael and Amy, zombie-like, returned the corner booth. "My dad's coming to pick me up," he stated robotically. He seemed so empty, so non-Michael. "Amy's dad is coming to get her, too. I probably - both of us, probably - won't be in school tomorrow." Amy slid into the booth, leaving room for Michael at her side and cradling her oversized cocoa mug once more, though the mug's contents had now gone cold. Michael sat stiffly on the outside, his arms folded tightly across his chest. Tara noticed that the dark paint on his nails was chipped on the ends, as though he had been chewing at them. When was there time for him to chew his nails? Tara wondered.
"I - I can stay with you, if you want," Mary offered. "I'm on my break now, so it's okay. If you want me to."
"No, you should probably just go," Michael said harshly. "There are probably a lot more fun people than us to be around right now."
Mary nodded, understanding the dark youth's anger and his need to be alone. She turned again to Tara. "If you don't mind hanging out here until 11, I can give you a ride home if you like. It's the least I can do. I know if I was in your shoes, the last thing I would want to do would be walk home in the dark like this."
Tara met Mary's eyes. "Okay, that - that sounds good. Thank you so much."
Within half an hour, both Michael and Amy had been picked up by their respective fathers. Tara was now alone to contemplate the afternoon's events with her unending supply of cocoa. Denise and Mary both checked in on her every now and again. Denise had brought a fuzzy blanket in from her car and wrapped it gently around the Wiccan's shoulders.
Promptly at 11, the Espresso Pump's lights dimmed, and the remaining staff lifted chairs onto tables to clean the floor. The sign on the front door was flipped around to "CLOSED," the blinds were lowered, and the front door was locked. Mary came out from the back with a light jacket on and her hair now worn loose instead of pulled back into the loose on-the-job ponytail she usually wore. She led Tara out the back door and to her car, then drove the blonde back to her building. It looked a good deal scarier in the dark, enough to worry Mary.
"Are you going to be okay getting in? I could walk you," she offered, her car idling in front of the old brick structure.
Tara shook her head. "No, no, I should be - I should get in fine. Thanks."
"See you tomorrow," Mary added.
"Night, Mary." Tara exited the car, Denise's young son's blanket still wrapped around her shoulders as she disappeared into the building.
Tara had lain awake most of the night, but eventually drifted off into a fitful sleep, scattered with nightmares. Once asleep, she woke often, at one point bolting directly from sleep into a sitting position and immediately flicking her bedroom light on, thinking that her father had come after her. A quick search of the tiny studio revealed nothing, which really only succeeded in making the witch feel more isolated instead of secure. She briefly considered calling Mary, just so she wouldn't be alone, but decided against it fairly quickly. It was too late to go bothering anyone.
School was tedious, running on very little sleep and quite a fair amount of nerves. As it turned out, neither Michael nor Amy went in to school the following day, which frankly didn't surprise Tara one bit. She kept eyeing Michael's empty desk in History, and P.E. was definitely no fun without Amy, who was usually partnered off with Tara for the classes exercises. Alone again, the Wiccan sighed.
Before lunch, she headed for the restroom, but stopped short when she saw Willow sitting by the sinks talking to Buffy. After a few seconds, she regained her momentum and headed for one of the sinks, washing her hands and, well, she really couldn't help overhearing.
"Buffy, he won't even talk to me!" the redhead said, sounding distraught.
Buffy put one hand on Willow's shoulder, the other hand holding a box of tissues. "I know, Will. It's gonna take time for him to-"
Willow blew her nose loudly, tossing the tissue into the trash can. "But I apologized! I never meant to hurt him, it was just - we thought we weren't gonna ever get out of that building, a-and desperation makes you do weird things. We, we weren't thinking."
"Cordy isn't talking to Xander right now, either. You can't really expect them to get over this right away, but you and Oz really have something. I'm sure he'll accept your apology and get over it. You'll move on. Together." The bell rang, echoing through the tiled room. "Look, Will, I really have to go meet Giles. He'll blow a gasket if I'm late again. We'll be in the library, you can catch up with us there, okay?" She momentarily pondered exactly what a 'gasket' was, then handed her friend the box of tissues she'd been holding and hopped down off the ledge. "It's gonna be okay, you'll get through this," the blonde emphasized as the late bell resonated through the building. "We'll talk about it more this afternoon, I'm really sorry I can't stay. Sometimes he just gets all British about punctuality and doesn't understand major life happenings."
Buffy headed for the door, and Tara moved closer to Willow, reaching for the paper towels. "Hey, W-Willow? Are you okay?" Tara asked gently, blue eyes locking with the redhead's red-rimmed green ones. Willow mutely shook her head 'no' and wiped tears from her eyes with a tissue. "No, um, that - that was a dumb question. Is there, is there anything I can do for you?"
"Not unless you can turn back time," Willow said in a defeated tone.
Tara shook her head. "No, I can't do that. But if you want someone to talk to, while Buffy's um, in the library. I'm your girl." She blushed slightly.
The redhead sniffled. "I'm not sure you'd want hear about it." Another tissue landed in the trash can.
Tara smiled sympathetically. "Hey, I offered because I m-meant it. I'm a good listener."
"Okay. If, if you're sure."
Tara nodded. "I'm sure," the witch stated confidently. She hopped up into Buffy's vacated seat on the ledge. "I'll even take over as Kleenex-holder, if you like."
Willow sent Tara a grateful, if wavering, smile and relinquished the tissue box. "Well, um, I'm sure you heard that Cordy's in the hospital."
The look on Tara's face clearly stated that she in fact had not heard. "Oh my gosh, is she okay? What happened? When?"
"She, she's okay. I mean, she's got a lot of stitches and stuff, but yeah, physically she's gonna be fine. It's just, um," Willow puzzled over how to just say this to a complete stranger. Which, she reminded herself, was pretty much what Tara was. No matter how open and friendly she seemed. "Well, see, Xander and I, we got kind of ... trapped. In this, this run down building outside of town, pretty much off the beaten track. Well, we couldn't find a way out, and we started to kind of panic, you know. Because we thought our best-case scenario involved, like, being stuck there until we eventually starved to death. So we had the whole impending death thing going on in our minds, and we kind of ... kissed." She looked up into Tara's face, and Tara sincerely hoped that there was not a trace of the disappointment she felt inside showing outwardly. "I know, we shouldn't have! It was so, so blindingly stupid. Oz and Cordelia, they were looking for us, and somehow, they actually found us. And that's, that's pretty much when they came in to rescue us.
"So um, they took one look at us and, and needless to say they were pretty upset. Cordelia, she turned and started to head outside, but the staircase collapsed. She fell, and um, she was hurt pretty bad. We, for a while we really weren't sure she was gonna make it." Willow reached for another tissue and dabbed at her eyes, which had begun to tear up again. "But we got her to the hospital, and they got her stabilized. But she didn't want to see Xander at all, or any of us. She made them send us away. He's pretty upset about the whole thing, I mean, it's our fault it happened. And Oz, I tried to apologize to him, explain, a-and he's all avoid-y now. He said he can't talk to me right now, or even see me, not 'til he figures stuff out. Oh Tara, I screwed up so bad."
Tara gently wrapped an arm around Willow's shoulders, and the dam burst. Willow collapsed into Tara's arms, and the blonde Wiccan held the other girl uncertainly. The tissue box slipped off Tara's lap and fell to the floor with an audible plop, but Willow didn't even seem to register the noise. She wrapped her arms helplessly around Tara, tears flowing, taking refuge in the blonde's embrace.
Gradually Tara began to get more comfortable with what was happening, now speaking quietly and soothingly to the redhead. Willow seemed to calm marginally, and Tara gently smoothed Willow's hair, cradling the smaller girl's body easily against her own. After several minutes like this, Willow slowly pulled away, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand and looking nowhere but at Tara. A click of approaching heels sounded, but neither girl paid any attention to the noise, staying close to one another. That is, until the door swung open.
"Oh my God, I'm not like, interrupting your make-out session, am I?" a taunting feminine voice declared.
Willow broke away from Tara's mesmerizing blue eyes to fix the immaculately dressed blonde with a glare. "Go away, Harmony."
Harmony cast a dubious look at the pair. "And just what made you think I'd want to hang around here with you freaks? Whatever it was you were doing..." she huffed, "well, I don't even want to know." She stepped towards the two young women and took a closer look at Tara, then Willow. "And why are you all cuddly with her? I thought you were dating that musician guy, Oz. Whatever." She turned on her heel and stalked back towards the door. As she pushed the door open with a manicured hand, she called over her shoulder, "I guess he was too good for you after all." The restroom door swung shut with a bang.
Tara jumped at the noise, looking back to Willow, who was sliding off the ledge. "W-what was that all about?" the blonde inquired.
"Oh, that, that was just Harmony. She's always like that," Willow answered, looking down for her backpack. "No one's really sure what her problem is. Bet my mom would love to try and figure it out, though."
Tara hopped down from the ledge as well, straightening her skirt. "So she's um, with the In Crowd?"
"Definitely with the In Crowd. In fact, she probably is the In Crowd. They're all just like clones of her, anyway." The redhead picked her bag up, then noticed the tissue box on the floor. As she stooped to pick it up, Tara crouched simultaneously. They both reached for the box, Willow getting it first. Tara's hand continued almost of its own will, gently making contact with Willow's. Both girls looked at their hands for a moment, then Tara pulled slowly away, her fingertips trailing over the back of Willow's hand. The blonde lifted her gaze again to meet Willow's. "I, I should go. I mean, you've got to go meet up with Buffy at the library. And-" Her fingers unconsciously balled closed as she stood again, blushing fiercely.
Willow nodded. "It, it's okay. I mean, you've got stuff to do too, right?"
"Yeah. But, um," she fumbled for what to say, not wanting to leave Willow.
"Thanks for listening, Tara," the redheaded girl said softly but earnestly. "And for being here. I'm really glad you stayed. It, you made me feel ... less alone."
The blonde Wiccan gave a half-smile. "Me too. I'm glad I was here for you. And, I mean, none of my friends ... they're both out today. So I was um, kinda alone, too."
"Oh. So you probably don't have anyone to sit with at lunch, do you?" Willow asked carefully. Tara shook her head. "Then, um, why don't you sit with me? I can meet up with Buffy later, it's no big."
"Really? I could sit with you?" Tara asked in disbelief.
Willow nodded. "Yeah, well, me and Xander anyway. Since Buffy's with Giles, and Cordy's not in school. And Oz isn't, isn't..." she trailed off.
"It's okay. I know."
~~
Outdoor lunch, Tara discovered, was pretty neat. There was the whole palm tree overhead thing happening. There were no creepy lunch ladies out here, and students tossed Frisbees and footballs to one another in the courtyard. And then there was Willow. Even though she was kinda down today, and the way Willow and Xander interacted was somewhat awkward, and it was probably only for today, Tara was seated across from the girl of her dreams.
"...So I called again right before you got here, and she still won't take my calls," Xander lamented. "I mean sure, she's had a pain-filled night, but don't they say laughter is the best medicine? I could always make her laugh. Well, usually. Okay, sometimes. But it's been known to happen."
Willow inclined her head. "Yeah, but she hasn't said to your face to leave you alone. I mean, recently. Well, besides that one time, a-at the hospital."
Xander shook his head. "I dunno, Will, it's not looking good." He popped a chip into his mouth. "See, normally, she'd take my calls and belittle me. That would be a sign things were getting back on track. It's like she doesn't even care enough to yell at me." He turned to Tara. "We aren't boring you here with our personal troubles, are we, Tara?"
"Oh, no, I'm okay. It just sounds like you had a really bad night, is all." She took a sip of her Coke.
"Boy, are you not kidding." The boy leaned towards Tara. "So why don't you lighten things up with something fun-filled that happened to you?"
The witch shook her head. "Oh, no, I-I kind of had a bad one last night, too."
Willow smiled encouragingly. "Well, how bad could it be?"
Taking a deep breath, Tara began, "Well, you know Amy and Michael?" Both teens nodded their heads in affirmation. "Well, they're both out today because ... because of what happened."
"Wow, and we only took one person out of school," Xander said, then realized Willow was giving him a look. "Oops." He smiled apologetically. "Anyway, you were saying?"
"I'm not sure you want to know, it's pretty bad." She looked at both of them intently, but they seemed to be genuinely interested in finding out. "All right, here goes. We went into the magic shop yesterday afternoon; they wanted to show me some stuff. Books and um, candles and other things. But we couldn't find the shopkeeper. She, she didn't come out, so they went to the back to find her."
Willow's face showed surprise and realization. "I, I was at the magic shop yesterday. I bet that's where - oh my gosh. The lady in the shop! Her name was Andrea, I think. She was ... she was dead, wasn't she?" the hacker asked hesitantly.
"Willster," Xander admonished her. "And the prize for subtlety goes to..."
Tara, meanwhile, confirmed that Willow was correct. "Yeah. They, they called her Andi. I guess they knew her pretty well. How did you know?"
"Um, something someone said. Last night."
"Uh, we should go talk to Buffy. Now." Xander tugged at Willow's sleeve, rising to make for the library.
"Well wait, we can't just leave Tara here, can we? Excuse us a second," Willow said politely to Tara. She then pulled her friend aside and leaned closer to him, whispering. "If she knows something, something that can help Buffy, she should come with us. She was in the magic shop, hanging out with Michael and Amy. She's gotta be a witch. I could feel something about her."
"But we're not sure how much she knows," Xander hissed. "And look at her. She's so ... innocent. If we have to tell her, I don't know what will happen. Some people just don't take it very well that demons and vampires lurk on the streets of their happy town, waiting to eat them at night."
Willow gave him a level look. "You know perfectly well what'll happen, Xander. She won't know how to protect herself from anything that's out there, and she'll wind up as someone's happy meal. Maybe worse, she'll end up as one of them, and then we'll have to dust her."
The young man was torn with indecision. After a prolonged internal debate, he finally nodded his assent. "You're right, she should know."
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