Breathe in for Luck

Author: Jess (aka JNJ)
Summary: An AU fic where Kyle finds someone whose different from the rest, but it becomes much more complicated than he'd ever expected.
AN: This fic deals with several rough issues, ones that might be a little scary for some readers. But, I wanted to write a serious Lamptrimmer fic...so here it is.

Part One: The Strong One

For once she finally belonged.

After moving from city to city, never finding another human to connect with other than her father, who’d always place a comforting hand on her knee as they drove away, Tess was finally able to settle down. Mr. Harding had finally found a steady job, one where he wouldn’t have to rip his daughter away from people she’d just met. This time, she was there for good, or so she thought.

It was a cool night in Boston. Everyone in the city could feel it in their bones, that queer feeling they got when they knew something would go wrong. Sitting on her bathroom counter beside her best friend Lia, Tess felt it too. But the exciting anticipation she held in her stomach made her over look everything else. Those past few months had been like a pristine dream. She was truly happy, because at last she could be a normal teenager, and have friends that were as real as she was.

She’d met Lia the first day of school, smoking a cigarette in the broken pink bathroom stall. When she realized she’d been caught, little Lia with her short black hair acted with a such sense of defensiveness that she amused Tess. Her face scrunched up, and she had a cold way of staring at you that you got chills. Everyone seemed to be afraid of her, and they had reason to be. But Tess laughed about it, and never understood how someone so little could possibly scare a bunny rabbit, let alone the entire school.

And now they sat together, opposite a huge mirror, putting on what should have been called war paint. Heavy streaks of blue smeared against their eyelids and dark black mascara streaked through their full lashes. They both had royal blue bandanas tied around their hair.Tonight was the night.

The second they stepped out the door, Tess felt a rush of anxiety. Suddenly, she wanted to turn back. Lia could sense her fear, and she reached for her friend’s hand, tugging her away from home and towards a place that she’d never wanted to be. Sure she loved her friends, but something wasn't right. Tess didn’t want to risk it, but she also didn’t want to send Lia there alone.

When they reached the corner of Main and Fifth, across the street from their destination, Lia turned, her breath like a fog in the cold night air. “Well, this is it,” she’d whispered. “You ready?”

Of course she wasn’t. There was something wrong with the way she felt. She’d done this so many times before, not caring at all who they were fighting...but this time...something was off. She thought long and hard about telling her best friend this, who held her shaking hand as they crossed the street, but she never got a chance to.

A shiny grey car pulled up beside them, and Tess turned her head, trying to inhale. “Lia...whose in that car?”

She hadn’t even noticed it. Lia never seemed to notice anything. It was following them now, slowly, its tinted windows glaring beside them. “Iunno,” she’d shrugged. “Maybe Mickey got a new ride with the money from the shipment last week?”

Tess tried to peer through the window without looking too obvious. But when she did, she didn’t see Mickey, or anyone from their gang. There were two men, whispering to each other about god-knows-what. Tess shrugged her shoulders and walked a little faster, spine stiff, knowing that Lia could feel how tense she was.

The window suddenly slid open, and face covered with a black ski-mask popped out, holding something in his hand thatTess had seen so many times these past months...

“Shit Tess! He’s got a gun!” She’d heard Lia scream through gritted teeth. “Get down!” But Tess was frozen. She could feel her knees ice up, and her mouth filled with blood as she bit her tongue.

She’d always felt so safe with the short girl beside her, because Lia could protect her. Tess was always the weaker one, just as she’d been in that moment.

She felt a hard shove and her knees buckled as she fell to the pavement. Lia had saved her again.

A loud noise echoed through the Boston streets, a bullet through the air. After it was fired, Tess heard the car screech away, and smiled, glad that it was all over. Glad that they were okay. She exhaled deeply and sat up, still shaking. She walked over to where her friend’s small body lay, and knelt down.

“Whoa, that was a close one, huh Lia?” She ran a freezing hand through her curly blonde hair, and stupidly awaited an answer.

She looked at the girl’s pale face, which was suddenly more white than usual. Her eyes were half shut, and her lips were pierced together in a thin line. Dark crimson liquid surrounded her body in a small, thick pool. That’s when Tess realized.

“Lia?” she cried, tasting the metallic blood filling her mouth again.

She felt a hand take hers, and saw Lia smile, sort of. “Tess...” she’d coughed. “I love you,” And with that, her hand grew faint, and both her eyes shut fully.

Tess had been so happy to finally belong. She had friends, friends who would literally kill for her, and protect her from anyone questionable. But that night, as the heavy sirens wailed and bright yellow and red lights flashed though the sky, she had no smile. Tess Harding held her best friend's lifeless head in her lap, and watched her slip away forever.

Part Two: Raindrops

Lia never dotted her i’s. She said it was a waste of precious time, time that she seemed to be saving for later. Breakfast, class and small talk aggravated her, so she stepped around them, as if she was doing a little dance. She never let anyone tell her what to do either. In a whole school filled passive girls that followed each other around, Lia was led only by her instinct. She didn’t need a whole bunch of friends to keep her company, she had herself for that. As long as someone was beside her, just one person who understood her, Lia Pearson was content.

Tess never asked why she’d picked her, but she had always wanted to. There were lots of girls at their school who would die to have a friend like Lia, someone to protect them, but she only wanted Tess. She did have other friends, though. Scattered around their neighbourhood were Mickey, O’Neil, Jose, Tyrell and Sam, the teenage boys Lia first, and then Tess called ‘family’. They weren’t all blood-related, and they didn’t even live together, but they all had one thing in common; they were all members of the biggest gang in Boston City.

There were some random things Tess always noticed about her best friend that she’d keep in her mind forever. The way she bit the inside of her colourless cheek when you pissed her off, how her left thumb stuck out oddly if she lay it flat, but mostly, it was her eyes that intrigued Tess. Lia’s dark brown eyes were always half-open, staring ahead. Always ahead. She didn’t need to take second glances or slightly turn her head, because she’d already seen it all. The tired creases around her lids showed nearly a lifetime of neglect and abuse.

They were innocent, those eyes. Quite unlike the rest of her face, which was harsh and awake. But, if you took one look, just one look at those childish eyes you’d understand her completely. Tess always wondered if that was why Lia insisted on wearing sunglasses, even at night. She didn’t want them to see what she really was inside; a scared little girl.

She shivered. Remembering Lia knocked the warmth and breath out of Tess’s body. It had only been a week ago since she’d...passed away. It hurt Tess so much, knowing that she wouldn’t wake up and see Lia’s face ever again. She didn’t go to the funeral, instead she lay in bed, the shades pulled down. She hadn’t eaten, slept or even talked since the night that a member of a rival gang had ended her only real friends life, not even knowing who was on the other end of the barrel. All he saw was that blue bandana wrapped around her hair, and that was enough for him.

She stared at the dust covering the dashboard facing her. Her father had forced her inside their car early this morning, and she couldn’t even fight him. They were moving again. Away from her home, away from her family, and, away from Lia.

She idly turned her head to stare at her father, who was concentrating on the winding road ahead, filled with water. It was raining again.

She could just picture his face a week ago as he got the call. The police had to do it, because she couldn’t even punch his work number in herself. He was always at work. She could imagine him, trying to file another case at some random company as he answered it. Then, his mouth dropped open in an o and she could almost feel his fists clenching. The news hit him on impact. Lia was dead, shot right before a huge brawl, and his baby was in custody, a member of a gang. His baby girl was in a gang. Funny how they’d never solved this problem on ‘Leave it to Beaver’.

She sighed, and loosely wrapped her arms across her chest as she stared at the drops of rain, rapidly falling onto their windshield. They stayed there only for half a second, wet tears on glass, until they were washed away by more drizzle.

“Do you remember Aunt Amy?” Once again Mr. Harding was asking her questions he should have known by then that she wouldn’t answer.

Of course, she didn’t remember her Aunt. Tess had only met her once, when she was a baby and they still lived with her mom. But, she didn’t feel like replying, so she pretended to tune his question out.

“Well,” he itched his forehead. “She gave me a call the other day. She lives down in Roswell, you know.”

He glanced at his daughter, with a look begging for her to open her mouth. But she said nothing. “Look, Tess. I know I haven’t always been the greatest father for all these years. But I tried my best...and,” he exhaled a heavy breath, “I’ve failed.”

Tess wanted to stare at him, surprised. She’d expected a long lecture about teen violence, a story about when he was a teen, or even a long, hard difficult look. Anything. But he did no such thing. She realized that he’d finally given up.

“Amy might know what to do. She’s got a daughter about your age of her own. You two would get along,” he explained towards the steering wheel.

She swallowed, hard.

“I’m sending you to Roswell,” he shifted, lowering his gaze to show that maybe he felt guilty. “You’ll be safe there.”

Feeling an overwhelming sense sadness, tears formed in her throat, her bones stiffened, and she fought it. She held those tears back, and looked blankly at the raindrops, shimmering down in front of her. No longer would she cry over the amazing pain in her heart, because, as Lia once said, it was all a waste. Tess gulped again and forced it all back, and it wasn’t the last time.

Part Three: Welcome to Roswell

After experiencing mile after mile of virtually nothing through her tinted window Tess was already sick of Roswell, New Mexico. She’d never seen so much empty desert in her life. That was all Roswell appeared to be-desert. Oh, and a small town with countless houses scattered around that all looked the exact same.

All she could think as she passed long stretches where nothing grew at all, was how much Lia would have hated it here. It hurt, thinking about her. She just wanted to bang her head a thousand times against the car door to stop her head from remembering a friend she once knew. She sought to forget that Lia didn’t exist anymore, but her mind went on, reminding her of that dead look on her face the night she left for good.

Abruptly, Mr. Harding's vehicle stopped, right in front of one of those familiar houses. It even had an old tire swing, hanging loose in the front. Just like most of the other homes on the street.

She heard a heavy sigh escape her father’s lips as he took his key from the ignition. “Well, this is it. We’re here,” Tess brushed her sweaty hands on the knees of her jeans and nodded her head, half-listening.

“You’ll be happy here,” he went on, opening his door and unbuckling his seatbelt. She responded with another dull nod and kept her eyes closed. His arm paused, holding onto his door, unsure whether or not to get up.

“Tess, baby. Just say something. Anything. You’re really scaring me,” he swiftly said, his thin lips hardly moving at all.

Of course that’s just what he wanted her to do. Say something, and be the daughter he wanted. The one who had sung him ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb' on their way to Burger King when she was little. She’d never be that girl again. He’d just have to get used to that. Tess blinked twice, and put her palm on the handle, opening her door without a single word.

*****

She reluctantly rapped on the red door twice, standing all by herself. Mr. Harding had left already, muttering a weak explanation about how him and Amy didn’t get along very well. Total understatement.

“Omygosh, Tess!” Amy Deluca exclaimed excitedly as she opened her screen door, her niece in front of her, heavy bags in hands.

Tess almost gasped in surprise. Aunt Amy was the exact replica of her own mother, from what she’d seen in old worn photographs. But, then again, they were sisters. Amy had soft features and dark hair to reveal a truly beautiful woman. As she pulled Tess into a hug, tears ran down her gentle pink cheek.

“I haven’t seen you since Maria and you were just babies!” Amy pulled away, trying to get a good look at Tess. She was tiny and frail looking, with blond hair growing past her shoulders in curls. Her blue eyes had dark circles underneath them, as if they’d been bruised there. “You look so tired, honey! Here, let me get these for you,” she said carefully, lifting Tess’s bags.

Tess, who gave a slight nod, lifted her head to see a smiling, and slightly taller blonde, who could only be her cousin. Maria walked closer, the short thick hair around her face bouncing as she stepped. Her smile grew bigger as they hugged.

“Welcome to Roswell,“ she whispered, “You’ll love it here.”

Part Four: Waking Up

Two intense blue eyes slowly opened, surveying a brightly lit room. There were numerous clothes carelessly scattered around, and candid photos of unfamiliar people covered each of the four lime green walls.

Tess slowly sat up and rubbed her forehead with a sleepy hand, still not fully awake. There were dozens of fluffy pillows, snugly surrounding her tiny body. Her back lay on a stiff bed she knew at once wasn’t hers; she had a waterbed. The room itself smelt of countless unrecognizable scents, making their way into her nose one at a time. She scratched her head, and pulled her bony knees up against her. Where was she?

She felt a shiver and realized her feet were cold. Reaching down, she began to rub them lazily, her hands creating heat. But, as she did so, the light sheet covering her legs slipped off, and something caught her eye. It was a dark, thick tattoo, curving its way around her milky white ankle. She stared at it, and then it all came to her.

She felt a rush of hot blood dash to her head.

Waking up was the hardest part of it all. She might have been able to handle everything else that came with her life: the pain, the fear, the guilt, and the memories. But never waking up. When she was asleep she didn’t have to be Tess, the tough girl from Boston who’d been shot at so many times she’d lost count. She could just be someone else. It wasn’t always like that though.

Sometimes she went back to the night of Lia’s death, and replayed it over and over again, but those nights, no one had died, because they were at home, watching reruns of Friends, because they had no gang to fight for. She was fond of that dream, it made her happy, knowing that Lia was still breathing. But then, when she felt a tingle and realized she was conscious, she wanted to crawl and hide.

It was like she was experiencing that cold night all over again, and feeling her best friend‘s heavy head in her arms. If only she could stay asleep, where she felt safe from dense emotions and haunting memories.

“Tess?” a soft voice called.

She turned her head to see Maria, standing over her bed, an unsure expression on her face. Her green eyes were wide, and she was biting her raspberry lip. Tess nodded, noticing that Maria wasn’t positive about how to act around her.

“Well,” she twirled a blond strand of her hair over and over again. “You...do you wanna come downstairs for dinner? It was made by me...just warning you.”

“Dinner?” Tess’s voice choked. “How long have I been out?”

“Since Saturday. It’s Tuesday today, you know.” Maria sat down next to her, slightly smiling.

“Oh,” Tess swallowed, “I didn’t really get any sleep on the ride here.”

Maria smiled and nodded her head, fully aware that the trip had nothing to do with Tess’s sleep. She reached and placed a warm hand on her cousin’s shoulder. “You know, Tess. If you ever need anyone to talk to about anything...I’m here for you. I don’t know what I’d ever do if Liz-”

“Maria, I’m okay, really...” The look on her cousin’s face wasn’t convinced.

“See?” she thrust both her white wrists in the confused girl’s face. “I’m perfectly fine.”

*****

On the other side of Roswell, another teen sat silently, watching his favourite movie at the drive-in, waiting for his date Cynthia to come back with their popcorn, which she’d insisted on getting herself. He was Kyle Valenti, star of the football team, most popular guy in school, and she was, like everyone else, trying to impress him.

He sighed, and tried to pay attention to Ethan Hawke’s steady voice, explaining the story of Vincent perfectly, down to the very last detail. Kyle had watched Gattaca repeatedly, and by then he knew it better then the wrinkles on the back of his dry hand. It was a movie about life in the future, where the lead character, Vincent, had to pretend he was a whole different person, because who he really was, no matter what he did, just wasn’t good enough.

Kyle knew that movie off by heart, and not just because he’d seen it a million times. He was living it.

If you asked anyone in Roswell, any single person at all, about Kyle Valenti, they’d all tell you the same thing. Kyle Valenti was a football prodigy, a town hero, and, possibly the best thing to happen to a small town ever. They all seemed to grasp him so well, but none of them ever mentioned just plain Kyle. Someone who should’ve flunked algebra more than once, but Coach saw to it that the teachers ‘looked out’ for him. Someone gifted with a perfect throwing arm, but hated even the sight of a football. Someone who was so much more then what they all knew.

He heard the door of the truck open and Cynthia, with her long waves of red hair, climbed in, an awkward smile on her face. But, there was no buttery popcorn bundled in her thin arms.

“Hey Kyle! Sweetie!” She screamed, and wrapped herself around him. He caught a whiff of her breath, and shook his head.

“Cynthia, where’d you get the beer?” he asked, hoping he wasn’t right with his guess.

“Oh...you know...just some of you friends. They’re so nice!” she exclaimed, kissing his neck.

Kyle pulled away, never dropping his gaze. Why did this always have to happen? She seemed like such a great girl...but so did the others. They all bent over backwards, hoping to make an impact on him. Couldn’t they just be themselves?

“Why’d you take it, Cynthia? I thought you said you didn’t drink.”

“Well,” she looked up at him, with her big brown eyes. “I don’t. But, I dunno...I guess I didn’t want to screw up. You being Kyle Valenti and all-”

Kyle shook his head and turned his key, starting his engine. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn’t some untouchable god who people had to be perfect for. He wasn’t a dumb football jock who had expectations higher than the sun. He was just plain Kyle Valenti, sick of all the bullshit.

Part Five- The Statue

Inhale.

A heavy second bell rang, echoing through the empty halls of West Roswell High. Swarms of tired students were already reluctantly seated in their homerooms, muttering complaints of a wasted summer. The first day of school.

Exhale.

Tess twirled a strand of her golden hair and rested a hand on her hip. She stood on the sidewalk, facing the front doors, a heavy bag on her tiny shoulders. Her back gave a slight shiver, and she bit her cherry lip nervously. It was happening again.

She’d done this so many times before, walking through a sea filled with hundreds of unfamiliar names and faces. She should have been used to it all, but it never got any easier. With every new school, that same nervous feeling clenched her stomach.

It never got any easier. And now, under different circumstances, it was even harder.

She shivered again, and swallowed. She realized someone was watching, behind her. Tess turned, to see a tall, stunning blonde, staring ahead as she bit a perfect lip. This girl was almost shaking as she moved closer, her eyes wide and awake. She resembled a supermodel Tess had once seen in a fashion magazine, every feature perfectly carved out.

The girl stood beside Tess, who rubbed her bare arm and tried not to notice the fact that she wasn’t alone anymore. Keeping her cool blue eyes on the ground, she could hear the girl breathe heavily.

“Do you ever wish you were invisible?”

Tess lifted her head, and gave the taller blonde next to her a curious look. “Huh?”

“Every year, I stand here, staring at those stupid doors. And every year, it gets even harder to make myself go in,” she swallowed, staring at the grey building.

They stood there, about fifteen paces towards West Roswell High, in silence. Both of them exchanged nervous looks from time to time, and Tess was more relieved to have someone there than she’d ever admit.

“I hate high school,” she muttered, breaking the long silence.

The beauty next to her nodded and laughed. “Me too,” She ran a hand through her blond hair and glanced at Tess. “My name’s Isabel.”

“Tess.”

Isabel nodded. “So, Tess,” she turned, the soft skin of her cheek pink. “Should we go in?”

Tess uncertainly eyed the school, and then shrugged her petite shoulders. “I guess so,” she muttered.

*~*~*~*~*

Isabel Evans was the most beautiful girl in high school. Everyone loved to watch her; their eyes following her everywhere she went. Always. She could feel their gaze as she walked down the hall, staring at her like she was a perfect golden statue. They never stopped. Just like she never stopped wondering what exactly they saw.

She sighed, and laid her lunch tray on the cold cafeteria table, stopping to sit down. Isabel was literally starving; she’d skipped breakfast again. As she reached for her plastic fork, ready to pounce on her Caesar salad, she lifted her head.

Suddenly, hundreds of eyes were staring at her intently. The whole school waiting for their statue to move. She swallowed, and then dropped her fork on the floor, pushing her tray far away.

She hated high school.

“I don’t think your fork appreciated that,” a voice chuckled from behind her.

Isabel turned and smiled. Alex Whitman stood in front of her, holding her fork. He smiled back, the dimples of his cheeks showing.

“Alex,” she giggled. “Maybe the damn thing deserved it...you never know.”

He sniggered, and ran a hand through his short dark hair. She watched him, and, for a little while, forgot about all the people staring at her, wondering why Isabel Evans would ever talk to a dork like Alex Whitman.

“You know,” he said, sliding next to her, his eyes on her tray. “If you don’t like salad, you could always try my mom’s soup; it’s even better than Campbells.”

“Well,” she looked into his dark eyes as he pulled out a thermos. “I am hungry...but what about you, what’ll you have?”

“Who? Me? No, I had pizza at my band’s practise,” he lied.

The truth was, he was starving, and hadn’t eaten since yesterday’s lunch. But, if Isabel was hungry, he’d walk a thousand miles to feed her.

“The Whits? How’s that going?” Isabel asked, taking a sip of the soup, it’s tasty contents filling her tummy with warmness. It might not have been the soup, though.

“Well-” Alex started, before something, or someone, caught his eye. “Who’s that?”

A tiny blond with long curls made her way through the busy cafeteria, her blue eyes looking up, pretending not to notice anyone else in the room. Tess.

“Oh!” Isabel dropped her spoon, and waved a hand, calling over the girl she’d met earlier that day on the sidewalk. “That’s Tess, Maria’s cousin.”

“Maria’s cousin?” He raised a dark eyebrow. “The one in a gang?”

She slowly nodded her head and put a strand of her long hair behind her ear. “Alex, she’s going through a hard time...her best friend just died.”

“I know,” he said, still watching Tess as she walked closer and closer to their table, her blond hair bouncing on her shoulders. “But still, Isabel, a gang member?”

“I don’t really care about that Alex. I mean, I should...but there’s just something about her. Something that makes me like her.”

“Well,” Alex looked at his watch, “I better get going...or Liz will kill me for not helping her with her science project. Bye Isabel.” He stood up, and slowly started walking away.

“Wait, Alex!” She yelled. “Your soup.”

Alex turned on his heel and smiled at her. “Oh, you can keep that.” And with that, he walked through the door, her eyes following him.

“Hey,” Tess sat down next to her, happy to have finally found the only sane person she’d met that day. “Who was that?”

“Oh,” Isabel blushed, her head still in the clouds. “That’s just Alex, my friend.”

“Right...” Tess nodded her blond head, and gave an odd look at the tall boy walking away.