Friday Night Lights - "If This One Could Be With You", Tim/Julie, R
Title: If This One Could Be With You - Chapter 6/10
Author: lindentree
Rating: R
Character(s): Tim/Julie
Word Count: 4,046
Summary: After 2x11, "Jumping the Gun", Julie's parents come up with an appropriate punishment for her - tutoring Tim Riggins.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
“From what I can tell, she’s sort of a weird girl, Tim. The usual things aren’t going to work,” Billy said, scratching his chin.
Tim frowned. “She’s not weird.”
The brothers were standing at the counter, having a beer, and Tim had decided to ask Billy for advice on what to do about Julie, a decision he was beginning to question.
“You know what I mean - she’s smart and uses big words and doesn’t eat pork, and she’ll see right through that stuff. You can’t just shove a five dollar bouquet at her and expect to hump her right then and there, can you?”
“Billy,” Tim warned, scowling at his brother. “Just help me figure out how to make her like me, okay?”
“Words I never thought I’d hear you say,” Billy replied, smirking.
“Nevermind,” Tim muttered, turning away from the counter to go to his room.
“Jesus, I’m just bugging you,” Billy said. “You’re so sensitive. Always have been.”
Tim didn’t reply, settling for merely glaring at his brother.
“All right, all right,” Billy said, opening another beer for himself. “Here’s what you’ve gotta do. Flowers won’t work, way too obvious. This is going to require a little bit of recon, Tim. You have to pay attention, find out what kind of stuff she likes. What kind of music, what kind of food and stuff. Everything. When you’ve got something to go on, let me know and we’ll work on the next stage.”
Tim nodded, considering this. “That’s pretty good, actually. What’s the next stage?”
“Casually intruding on her personal space,” Billy replied, as though it should have been obvious. “Hey, isn’t Tyra friends with her? Why don’t you ask her what Julie’s into?”
“Because I don’t really feel like getting castrated this week, Billy.”
“Good point,” he grimaced. “I guess asking for pointers from Coach or Mrs. Taylor is out too, huh?”
“You’re funny,” Tim grumbled. There was a pause, during which they both took long swigs of their beers. “Hey - you think they’ll have a problem with it? Like, if she wanted to go out with me, do you think they’d say no?”
“I don’t know, Tim,” Billy replied, shrugging.
“Coach likes me,” Tim reasoned, “and they trust me enough to have her tutor me, have me around the house and stuff.”
“Yeah, but what would you do, if Julie was your daughter, and one of us showed up at your front door asking to take her out?”
A pause. “I’d probably kill him.”
“Exactly.”
Tim stared down at the counter, suddenly feeling hopeless and stupid. What kind of a dumbass was he, going after the Coach’s daughter? A girl whose father Matt Saracen had had trouble getting past.
“First things first, little brother,” Billy said, nudging Tim in the arm. “You gotta make sure she even likes you.”
***
“So anyway, he drove me home and we ended up talking about it a little, and he said that he didn’t sleep with her, that’s just what Katie told everyone.”
“Hm,” Tyra replied, idly browsing a rack of discount tops.
“What? Aren’t you going to tell me that he’s a douchebag or he’s probably lying or something?”
“Actually, no. When Tim’s being a douchebag, he’s usually pretty honest about it. He’s not much of a liar.”
“Oh. So you think he was telling the truth?”
“I guess so. The real question is why he felt the need to justify it, and why he let you believe that he did sleep with her in the first place.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, if he didn’t sleep with Katie, why would he let you believe he did? And why does he even care what you think about who he’s sleeping with?”
“Well, we’re friends.”
“Okay, he may or may not be just friends with you, but you are most definitely not just friends with him.”
“Yeah,” Julie agreed, frowning as she turned away from the racks of discount clothes and headed towards the food court. Tyra followed, shortening her long strides to walk in step with her friend.
“Look, I don’t want to stress you out or anything,” Tyra said. “All I’m saying is just that I’m wondering if maybe Tim’s got something going on for you, too.”
“Do you really think that’s possible?”
“I don’t know. I’ve known Tim a pretty long time, and pretty well, but he’s kind of a hard nut to crack, you know? He likes to think he’s simple, but he’s not.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean... I dunno,” she sighed. “I guess what I mean is that he’s good at just doing what he thinks people expect of him. Beer, sex, football, beer, sex, football.”
Tyra stopped in the middle of the mall thoroughfare and looked at Julie. “I’ve thought about it a lot, you know? I think maybe we’re both like that. People tell you you’re one thing for long enough and you start to believe it. It’s hard for me to learn how to not be like that. Maybe it’s hard for him, too.”
Julie looked at her friend for a moment before replying. “Do you mind all this? That I like him?” Julie asked. “I mean, it is kinda weird and awkward. You guys used to date.”
Tyra grinned and bumped her arm gently against Julie’s, turning once again to head towards the food court. “Nah,” she shrugged. “What we had was over a long time ago, and it’s a good thing it is. For you, mostly I just don’t want you to get hurt. For Tim, I want to go over there and make damn sure he gets that when someone gives a crap about you, believes in you, you shouldn’t ever let that person go without a fight, no matter how scared you are that they might actually be right.”
***
Another day, another football practice.
Julie was sitting on the bleachers right behind the bench, doing her best to tune out all the yelling and whistle-blowing going on nearby. She had her final exam dates out, and was trying to concentrate on working out how she was going to get some shifts at Applebee's in before finals, while finding time to study and tutor Tim, as well.
A loud whistle signaled a break in practice, and several moments later, the clang of cleats on the bleachers announced the arrival of a football player. Looking up, Julie smiled, expecting to see Tim standing over her. Instead, she was surprised to see Matt a few feet away, watching her.
“Hey,” she said, tentatively. The last time they’d really talked was that night outside Fran’s, and everything since then had been awkward exchanges and avoidance, at least on her part.
“Hey,” he replied softly.
There was a pause during which they both made an effort to look anywhere but at one another’s faces. Finally, Julie cleared her throat and took the plunge.
“How are you?”
“Good,” he replied. “You?”
“I’m okay. How’s your Grandma?”
“She’s doing okay. She’s Grandma, you know.”
“I know,” Julie replied, smiling fondly at the thought of Lorraine Saracen. “How’s Carlotta?”
“Uh, I wouldn’t know, because she went back to Guatemala.”
“Oh,” Julie said, looking down. “I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not,” Matt shrugged awkwardly, coming a few steps closing and crouching down on the bench beside her.
“No, I really am,” Julie insisted. “That’s too bad, she seemed really... Nice.”
“Thanks,” Matt replied, sending her a sidelong glance.
There was a pause during which they both regarded each other somewhat warily.
“So, does this mean we’re talking again?” Julie asked, trying to keep her tone light.
“I guess,” Matt replied, scuffing his cleats against the metal.
Julie pursed her lips, trying not to feel irritated. She was still the one who messed everything up; at least he was talking to her. “Well, you’re the one who came over here, so... Is there something you wanted?”
“I just wanted to say hi, mostly,” he replied. “But I guess... I dunno.”
“What?”
“Is there... Is there something going on with you and Tim Riggins?”
Julie took in his nervous posture, and smiled. A little laugh bubbled up out of her before she could help herself. Matt gave her a dubious look.
“Do you know how many people have asked me that?” she asked.
“No, I don’t,” he replied, turning away and squinting out at the field.
“You, and both my parents, and Tyra, and all my other friends, and some teachers, and a few territorial rally girls. I’m pretty much waiting for little old ladies to stop me in the drug store and ask me if there’s something going on between me and Tim Riggins.”
“Well,” Matt stammered, “is there?”
“We’re just friends,” Julie repeated, for what felt like the millionth time.
“Okay,” Matt replied. After a couple minutes, a whistle blew and Matt stood up, yanking his helmet back down on his head. “See you later,” he said.
“See you,” she replied, watching him jog back out onto the field to rejoin his team. Her eyes drifted and landed on Tim, who she realised had been standing there watching the two of them talk. Julie blushed and looked back down at her notes.
The irony of her stubborn insistence that there was nothing going on between them in the face of her ever-growing feelings for him was not lost on Julie.
***
One drawback of Julie earning her driver’s license was that Tim no longer had to drive her here and there, so now he sometimes found himself driving to the Taylors’ alone after practice. He arrived at the Taylors’ one afternoon to find he had beaten Julie there. He was greeted at the door and ushered into the house by Mrs. Taylor and a red-faced, sobbing Gracie.
“Jules should be home real soon, Tim,” Tami said, walking ahead of him into the house. “I think she just had to go into work to pick up her paycheck and sort out her schedule.”
“Okay, Mrs. Taylor.”
“Do you mind if I leave you to entertain yourself for a few minutes?” she asked, shifting Gracie from one arm to the other. “I’ve got a pretty stinky diaper here that needs seeing to.”
“Sure,” he replied. He watched as Tami disappeared down the hall and into the master bedroom, closing the door behind her. He looked down the other hallway towards Julie’s room, then back down towards where Tami had gone.
Before he could second guess himself, Tim walked down the hallway and into Julie’s bedroom, closing the door silently behind him. Leaning back against the closed door, he took a deep breath and looked around, taking in the unmade bed and pile of clean laundry which cluttered the otherwise tidy room.
Resisting the urge to have a peek into her underwear drawer, Tim strode over to the stand which held a small library of CDs, and began flipping through them. Frowning, he realised he didn’t recognise too many of the titles he found. Apparently their tastes in music differed somewhat. Tim shrugged - that wasn’t a big deal. She’d come around to his music; after all, he thought, everyone likes Creedence Clearwater Revival.
He moved over to her bookshelves, which were packed with novels. He smiled, noting that she had meticulously alphabetised her books by author. The shelves were peppered with framed photos, shells, stones, little jars of sand and other little odds and ends; mementos from family trips, he guessed.
Tim glanced around the room, taking in the posters and art Julie had hung on the walls, the piles of paper and homework on her desk, the shoes abandoned on her closet floor. Nothing in the room told Tim anything about Julie except that she liked books and a lot of bands he’d never heard of. None of it really showed how smart and funny and sarcastic and sensitive and thoughtful Julie was.
Frowning, Tim left the room and returned to the living room to wait for Julie to arrive. How was he supposed to figure out what Julie was interested in if her bedroom didn’t tell him anything he didn’t already know?
***
It was Thursday afternoon, and Julie and Tim were both sitting on the couch reading, which Julie should have known was a bad idea.
“Mmm,” Tim muttered, in response to something in his novel. Julie glanced sideways at him and smiled at how adorable his frown of concentration was.
Tim caught her looking, however, and smirked.
“What are you reading?” he asked, poking her in the thigh with his big toe.
“Gross,” Julie said, wrinkling her nose and turning back to her book. “Quit moving your feet, they stink. Did you even change your socks after practice?”
“Nope. What’s your book about?”
Julie looked up and cast him a withering look. Tim was looking at her, his own book now lying open and face down on his chest.
“Tim, you’re supposed to be reading. The rules are that you come over here after practice and you work. Come on.”
“This book’s crap. What’s yours about?”
Julie sighed. She had long since discovered that there was no getting him back on task when he was like this.
“Fine,” she said. “I’ll tell you about it and we can discuss it a little, because that’s sort of like working on English, even though it’s not a book you’re even taking, but then you have to go back to your book. Okay?”
“Okay,” he said, tossing his book in the direction of the coffee table. “Shoot.”
“This is Wuthering Heights,” she said, waving it at him. “It was written by Emily Brontë. It’s about a boy and a girl, Heathcliff and Catherine, who grow up together and are in love, but complications stop them from being together. They’re kindred spirits, but Catherine starts to believe she’s a different person and that she’s better than Heathcliff, that he’s beneath her. So she marries this other, more suitable guy who’s nothing like her. Not where it counts. Heathcliff goes away for a while, and then comes back a wealthy man and basically starts to systematically destroy Catherine’s life like a total psycho.”
“Hm,” Tim replied, “Sounds kinda girly.”
“Why, because it’s a love story?”
“Yeah,” he said, reaching out and grabbing the book away from her. “Are there any dirty parts?”
“Tim!” she complained, reaching futilely to get her book back. “Come on, I’m almost finished!”
“Too bad,” he said, grinning and holding it up out of her reach.
Julie jumped across the couch and jabbed him hard in the ribs, reaching for the book as his arm came down to protect his vulnerable side. She overshot and landed on top of him, collapsing with laughter as she continued to try to grab the book. She felt a hand against her side, and he suddenly began tickling her ribs mercilessly.
“Oh my god,” she squealed, “Tim, don’t! I’m super ticklish!”
“Nice,” he said, tossing Wuthering Heights aside with devilish glee and attacking her with both hands.
Julie went limp, kicking her legs at the air and smacking his chest. She was laughing so hard her stomach ached, and she couldn’t even retaliate when he sat up and pinned her to the couch, continuing his assault.
“Tim!” she shrieked, “Don’t, please! I’m dying! Stop!”
“Okay, okay,” he said, holding her down and grinning at her. “I’ll stop if you say, ‘Tim Riggins is the best looking guy in Dillon’.”
“Fine, just stop!” she choked, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Tim Riggins is… the biggest dumbass in Dillon!”
“Oh, no,” he said, shaking his head as though this turn of events saddened him. “You’re dead, Taylor.”
His quick hands shoved her t-shirt up to expose her bare midsection, and before she could move, he leaned down and blew loudly on her stomach.
“Oh my god,” she laughed, “I cannot believe you just gave me a raspberry!”
He lifted his head and smiled up at her, laughing too, and suddenly it hit Julie that Tim Riggins had her pinned on her couch, his flushed face practically in her crotch.
Julie pushed her shirt back down and began to sit up. Tim pulled away immediately, moving back to his end of the couch.
“We should probably get back to work,” Julie mumbled, the playful atmosphere evaporating immediately. “My parents will be home soon.”
“Yeah,” Tim replied gruffly, retrieving his book from the floor.
They sat reading at opposite ends of the couch and didn’t say another word until her parents arrived. Tim didn't linger after they got home, and Julie watched as he slipped out the door at the first opportunity.
***
With less than a minute left in the fourth quarter and the score tied, the Panthers' whole season had come down to a shovel pass to Smash, who was in the midst of running with all his fury towards the end zone.
Julie held her breath and watched as an opposing defender came from across the field, only to be stopped short by a huge block from Tim, who went down hard with the other player beneath him.
The stadium exploded with cheers as the clock ran down and Smash dove into the end zone for a game-winning touchdown.
The crowd poured out onto Herrmann Field, the din of their jubilant voices drowning out all other sounds as they joined the team to celebrate. Julie and her mother found her father in the midst of the melee, and he tore himself away long enough to hug them both, little Gracie squished between her parents in her snuggly.
"Congratulations, daddy," Julie said, her voice muffled by his Panthers jacket.
"Thanks, sweetheart," he replied, pressing a kiss against her head. Julie felt him pull away, and lifted her head to see where her father was looking. Tim was standing a few feet away, holding his helmet and watching them. "Looks like somebody else wants congratulating, too," Coach said. Julie looked up at her father, but his face was inscrutable as he looked at Tim. She pulled away from her parents and walked over to him.
“Headed for the playoffs again,” she noted, coming to stand in front of him. “Congratulations.”
“Dunno how we pulled it off,” Tim shrugged, taking in the spectacle of his celebrating teammates and their families and fans.
“You were really great tonight,” Julie said, smiling.
“Thanks,” he beamed.
They stood there smiling at each other for several moments before Tami’s voice calling Julie interrupted them.
“I’d better go,” Julie said, glancing over at her parents. “You must have a big party to get to.”
“I guess,” Tim replied, looking around at the players remaining on the field, who were shouting congratulations to each other and noisily discussing party plans. “What are you up to tonight?”
Julie shrugged. “Probably just home to bed.”
“Oh,” Tim said, looking away. “I dunno, do you maybe wanna do something?”
“Uh, I don’t know if I’m up for the whole party thing.”
“I was thinking we could go somewhere.”
“Oh yeah?” Julie smiled. “What did you have in mind?”
“I don’t know,” he frowned, thinking. “My place?”
Julie stared for a second before glancing back over her shoulder at her parents as though they might have heard Tim’s suggestion from twenty yards away.
“Not sure if my parents would really go for that,” she said delicately. She looked around at the field, which was slowly starting to empty as players and parents and friends wandered off in groups to continue their celebrations elsewhere. "I've got an idea," Julie said. "Go get changed, and meet me outside the dressing room when you're done. Take your time."
Tim smiled, looking at her in surprise. "What have you got up your sleeve, Taylor?"
"Just go get changed," she said.
Julie managed to convince her parents that it was okay to leave her behind with Tim and that she'd be home before curfew, diplomatically choosing to ignore the looks they gave one another. She waited for him at the back entrance to the field, and he had apparently taken her instructions to heart, for he was the very last player out of the dressing rooms, followed only by an assistant coach who locked up after them both before heading to the parking lot.
Tim strolled over, his jacket unzipped and his hair still damp from the shower.
"I think everyone's a little confused why I'm not gonna be at the party at my own house," he said.
"Oh," Julie stammered. "Did you want to go? We don't have to -"
"No, I'm good right here," he replied, shrugging. He frowned down at her feet. "What's that?"
"Tim Riggins not recognizing a case of beer when he sees one? What is the world coming to?" Julie smirked, stepping around the 12 pack at her feet and hefting it up onto her hip. "I got it out of your truck. Do you mind?"
"Not at all," Tim replied, reaching out and taking it from her. "So, where are we headed?"
"We're headed right here," Julie said, turning and walking out onto the field, heading for the fifty yard line. "I figured since you weren't in the mood for a party and I'm not in the mood for a party, the answer was obvious. Beer picnic."
Tim set the case of beer down on the turf and sat down next to it, pulling two cans out. He cracked them both open and handed one to Julie.
She watched him as he made to take a swig. "Wait," she said. "Don't you have a toast?"
"Oh," he said, pausing. After a moment, he held his beer aloft. "Here's to the Panthers, and to playoffs, and to good company."
Julie smiled. "To good company," she agreed, tipping her beer towards him before taking a long drag.
Two hours later, they had plowed through most of the twelve pack and Tim was loudly pondering the logistics of embarking on a beer-run while Julie attempted to make a pyramid out of their empty cans.
"No," she barked. "No - you have to stay here and help me finish this castle. No beer runs."
"We're almost out, though," Tim complained.
"How much beer do you actually need?"
"Tons," he replied, blinking at her from the ground as she put the finishing touches on her beer can pyramid.
"Right, and how do you propose we go get this beer? Should we walk to the liquor store?"
"Nah, we'll drive."
"Mmm, yeah. That sounds like a great idea."
"Why not?"
"Because you're drunk," Julie said, standing over him with her hands on her hips. "Besides," she said, her hand darting out, "You dropped your keys, and now I have them."
"Hey," Tim grumbled half-heartedly as Julie stepped away. He sat up. "Gimme those."
"No way," she smiled, shoving them into an inner pocket in her green army jacket.
"Seriously, Taylor," he said, slowly standing up. "Give 'em to me."
Julie grinned. "You have to catch me," she said, before turning and sprinting towards the end zone.
Tim stood there staring after her, slack-jawed. It was just like the dream he’d had, weeks ago, where he tried and tried to catch her but couldn’t.
Her laughter rang out in the stadium. “What’s wrong?” she called. “Big Timmy Riggins can’t catch me?”
Shaking his head, Tim took off after her, prompting her to shriek and take off in another direction. His long strides caught up to her quickly, though, and when she spun to duck around him, he caught her around the waist and lifted her up, pretending to grope for his keys.
Laughing, they fell to the ground, Julie squirming to get loose. Tim pinned her down easily, sneaking a hand into her jacket to steal his keys back.
“I win,” he panted, leaning over her and grinning.
Julie stared up at him, her expression strangely serious. She sat up, and Tim moved away to give her room. “It’s getting late,” she mumbled. “We should probably go.”
Tim sat back on his haunches, watching as she stood shakily and began picking bits of dirt and grass out of her hair.
“Okay,” he nodded, standing up to follow Julie, who was already walking away.
Chapter 7
Author: lindentree
Rating: R
Character(s): Tim/Julie
Word Count: 4,046
Summary: After 2x11, "Jumping the Gun", Julie's parents come up with an appropriate punishment for her - tutoring Tim Riggins.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
“From what I can tell, she’s sort of a weird girl, Tim. The usual things aren’t going to work,” Billy said, scratching his chin.
Tim frowned. “She’s not weird.”
The brothers were standing at the counter, having a beer, and Tim had decided to ask Billy for advice on what to do about Julie, a decision he was beginning to question.
“You know what I mean - she’s smart and uses big words and doesn’t eat pork, and she’ll see right through that stuff. You can’t just shove a five dollar bouquet at her and expect to hump her right then and there, can you?”
“Billy,” Tim warned, scowling at his brother. “Just help me figure out how to make her like me, okay?”
“Words I never thought I’d hear you say,” Billy replied, smirking.
“Nevermind,” Tim muttered, turning away from the counter to go to his room.
“Jesus, I’m just bugging you,” Billy said. “You’re so sensitive. Always have been.”
Tim didn’t reply, settling for merely glaring at his brother.
“All right, all right,” Billy said, opening another beer for himself. “Here’s what you’ve gotta do. Flowers won’t work, way too obvious. This is going to require a little bit of recon, Tim. You have to pay attention, find out what kind of stuff she likes. What kind of music, what kind of food and stuff. Everything. When you’ve got something to go on, let me know and we’ll work on the next stage.”
Tim nodded, considering this. “That’s pretty good, actually. What’s the next stage?”
“Casually intruding on her personal space,” Billy replied, as though it should have been obvious. “Hey, isn’t Tyra friends with her? Why don’t you ask her what Julie’s into?”
“Because I don’t really feel like getting castrated this week, Billy.”
“Good point,” he grimaced. “I guess asking for pointers from Coach or Mrs. Taylor is out too, huh?”
“You’re funny,” Tim grumbled. There was a pause, during which they both took long swigs of their beers. “Hey - you think they’ll have a problem with it? Like, if she wanted to go out with me, do you think they’d say no?”
“I don’t know, Tim,” Billy replied, shrugging.
“Coach likes me,” Tim reasoned, “and they trust me enough to have her tutor me, have me around the house and stuff.”
“Yeah, but what would you do, if Julie was your daughter, and one of us showed up at your front door asking to take her out?”
A pause. “I’d probably kill him.”
“Exactly.”
Tim stared down at the counter, suddenly feeling hopeless and stupid. What kind of a dumbass was he, going after the Coach’s daughter? A girl whose father Matt Saracen had had trouble getting past.
“First things first, little brother,” Billy said, nudging Tim in the arm. “You gotta make sure she even likes you.”
***
“So anyway, he drove me home and we ended up talking about it a little, and he said that he didn’t sleep with her, that’s just what Katie told everyone.”
“Hm,” Tyra replied, idly browsing a rack of discount tops.
“What? Aren’t you going to tell me that he’s a douchebag or he’s probably lying or something?”
“Actually, no. When Tim’s being a douchebag, he’s usually pretty honest about it. He’s not much of a liar.”
“Oh. So you think he was telling the truth?”
“I guess so. The real question is why he felt the need to justify it, and why he let you believe that he did sleep with her in the first place.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, if he didn’t sleep with Katie, why would he let you believe he did? And why does he even care what you think about who he’s sleeping with?”
“Well, we’re friends.”
“Okay, he may or may not be just friends with you, but you are most definitely not just friends with him.”
“Yeah,” Julie agreed, frowning as she turned away from the racks of discount clothes and headed towards the food court. Tyra followed, shortening her long strides to walk in step with her friend.
“Look, I don’t want to stress you out or anything,” Tyra said. “All I’m saying is just that I’m wondering if maybe Tim’s got something going on for you, too.”
“Do you really think that’s possible?”
“I don’t know. I’ve known Tim a pretty long time, and pretty well, but he’s kind of a hard nut to crack, you know? He likes to think he’s simple, but he’s not.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean... I dunno,” she sighed. “I guess what I mean is that he’s good at just doing what he thinks people expect of him. Beer, sex, football, beer, sex, football.”
Tyra stopped in the middle of the mall thoroughfare and looked at Julie. “I’ve thought about it a lot, you know? I think maybe we’re both like that. People tell you you’re one thing for long enough and you start to believe it. It’s hard for me to learn how to not be like that. Maybe it’s hard for him, too.”
Julie looked at her friend for a moment before replying. “Do you mind all this? That I like him?” Julie asked. “I mean, it is kinda weird and awkward. You guys used to date.”
Tyra grinned and bumped her arm gently against Julie’s, turning once again to head towards the food court. “Nah,” she shrugged. “What we had was over a long time ago, and it’s a good thing it is. For you, mostly I just don’t want you to get hurt. For Tim, I want to go over there and make damn sure he gets that when someone gives a crap about you, believes in you, you shouldn’t ever let that person go without a fight, no matter how scared you are that they might actually be right.”
***
Another day, another football practice.
Julie was sitting on the bleachers right behind the bench, doing her best to tune out all the yelling and whistle-blowing going on nearby. She had her final exam dates out, and was trying to concentrate on working out how she was going to get some shifts at Applebee's in before finals, while finding time to study and tutor Tim, as well.
A loud whistle signaled a break in practice, and several moments later, the clang of cleats on the bleachers announced the arrival of a football player. Looking up, Julie smiled, expecting to see Tim standing over her. Instead, she was surprised to see Matt a few feet away, watching her.
“Hey,” she said, tentatively. The last time they’d really talked was that night outside Fran’s, and everything since then had been awkward exchanges and avoidance, at least on her part.
“Hey,” he replied softly.
There was a pause during which they both made an effort to look anywhere but at one another’s faces. Finally, Julie cleared her throat and took the plunge.
“How are you?”
“Good,” he replied. “You?”
“I’m okay. How’s your Grandma?”
“She’s doing okay. She’s Grandma, you know.”
“I know,” Julie replied, smiling fondly at the thought of Lorraine Saracen. “How’s Carlotta?”
“Uh, I wouldn’t know, because she went back to Guatemala.”
“Oh,” Julie said, looking down. “I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not,” Matt shrugged awkwardly, coming a few steps closing and crouching down on the bench beside her.
“No, I really am,” Julie insisted. “That’s too bad, she seemed really... Nice.”
“Thanks,” Matt replied, sending her a sidelong glance.
There was a pause during which they both regarded each other somewhat warily.
“So, does this mean we’re talking again?” Julie asked, trying to keep her tone light.
“I guess,” Matt replied, scuffing his cleats against the metal.
Julie pursed her lips, trying not to feel irritated. She was still the one who messed everything up; at least he was talking to her. “Well, you’re the one who came over here, so... Is there something you wanted?”
“I just wanted to say hi, mostly,” he replied. “But I guess... I dunno.”
“What?”
“Is there... Is there something going on with you and Tim Riggins?”
Julie took in his nervous posture, and smiled. A little laugh bubbled up out of her before she could help herself. Matt gave her a dubious look.
“Do you know how many people have asked me that?” she asked.
“No, I don’t,” he replied, turning away and squinting out at the field.
“You, and both my parents, and Tyra, and all my other friends, and some teachers, and a few territorial rally girls. I’m pretty much waiting for little old ladies to stop me in the drug store and ask me if there’s something going on between me and Tim Riggins.”
“Well,” Matt stammered, “is there?”
“We’re just friends,” Julie repeated, for what felt like the millionth time.
“Okay,” Matt replied. After a couple minutes, a whistle blew and Matt stood up, yanking his helmet back down on his head. “See you later,” he said.
“See you,” she replied, watching him jog back out onto the field to rejoin his team. Her eyes drifted and landed on Tim, who she realised had been standing there watching the two of them talk. Julie blushed and looked back down at her notes.
The irony of her stubborn insistence that there was nothing going on between them in the face of her ever-growing feelings for him was not lost on Julie.
***
One drawback of Julie earning her driver’s license was that Tim no longer had to drive her here and there, so now he sometimes found himself driving to the Taylors’ alone after practice. He arrived at the Taylors’ one afternoon to find he had beaten Julie there. He was greeted at the door and ushered into the house by Mrs. Taylor and a red-faced, sobbing Gracie.
“Jules should be home real soon, Tim,” Tami said, walking ahead of him into the house. “I think she just had to go into work to pick up her paycheck and sort out her schedule.”
“Okay, Mrs. Taylor.”
“Do you mind if I leave you to entertain yourself for a few minutes?” she asked, shifting Gracie from one arm to the other. “I’ve got a pretty stinky diaper here that needs seeing to.”
“Sure,” he replied. He watched as Tami disappeared down the hall and into the master bedroom, closing the door behind her. He looked down the other hallway towards Julie’s room, then back down towards where Tami had gone.
Before he could second guess himself, Tim walked down the hallway and into Julie’s bedroom, closing the door silently behind him. Leaning back against the closed door, he took a deep breath and looked around, taking in the unmade bed and pile of clean laundry which cluttered the otherwise tidy room.
Resisting the urge to have a peek into her underwear drawer, Tim strode over to the stand which held a small library of CDs, and began flipping through them. Frowning, he realised he didn’t recognise too many of the titles he found. Apparently their tastes in music differed somewhat. Tim shrugged - that wasn’t a big deal. She’d come around to his music; after all, he thought, everyone likes Creedence Clearwater Revival.
He moved over to her bookshelves, which were packed with novels. He smiled, noting that she had meticulously alphabetised her books by author. The shelves were peppered with framed photos, shells, stones, little jars of sand and other little odds and ends; mementos from family trips, he guessed.
Tim glanced around the room, taking in the posters and art Julie had hung on the walls, the piles of paper and homework on her desk, the shoes abandoned on her closet floor. Nothing in the room told Tim anything about Julie except that she liked books and a lot of bands he’d never heard of. None of it really showed how smart and funny and sarcastic and sensitive and thoughtful Julie was.
Frowning, Tim left the room and returned to the living room to wait for Julie to arrive. How was he supposed to figure out what Julie was interested in if her bedroom didn’t tell him anything he didn’t already know?
***
It was Thursday afternoon, and Julie and Tim were both sitting on the couch reading, which Julie should have known was a bad idea.
“Mmm,” Tim muttered, in response to something in his novel. Julie glanced sideways at him and smiled at how adorable his frown of concentration was.
Tim caught her looking, however, and smirked.
“What are you reading?” he asked, poking her in the thigh with his big toe.
“Gross,” Julie said, wrinkling her nose and turning back to her book. “Quit moving your feet, they stink. Did you even change your socks after practice?”
“Nope. What’s your book about?”
Julie looked up and cast him a withering look. Tim was looking at her, his own book now lying open and face down on his chest.
“Tim, you’re supposed to be reading. The rules are that you come over here after practice and you work. Come on.”
“This book’s crap. What’s yours about?”
Julie sighed. She had long since discovered that there was no getting him back on task when he was like this.
“Fine,” she said. “I’ll tell you about it and we can discuss it a little, because that’s sort of like working on English, even though it’s not a book you’re even taking, but then you have to go back to your book. Okay?”
“Okay,” he said, tossing his book in the direction of the coffee table. “Shoot.”
“This is Wuthering Heights,” she said, waving it at him. “It was written by Emily Brontë. It’s about a boy and a girl, Heathcliff and Catherine, who grow up together and are in love, but complications stop them from being together. They’re kindred spirits, but Catherine starts to believe she’s a different person and that she’s better than Heathcliff, that he’s beneath her. So she marries this other, more suitable guy who’s nothing like her. Not where it counts. Heathcliff goes away for a while, and then comes back a wealthy man and basically starts to systematically destroy Catherine’s life like a total psycho.”
“Hm,” Tim replied, “Sounds kinda girly.”
“Why, because it’s a love story?”
“Yeah,” he said, reaching out and grabbing the book away from her. “Are there any dirty parts?”
“Tim!” she complained, reaching futilely to get her book back. “Come on, I’m almost finished!”
“Too bad,” he said, grinning and holding it up out of her reach.
Julie jumped across the couch and jabbed him hard in the ribs, reaching for the book as his arm came down to protect his vulnerable side. She overshot and landed on top of him, collapsing with laughter as she continued to try to grab the book. She felt a hand against her side, and he suddenly began tickling her ribs mercilessly.
“Oh my god,” she squealed, “Tim, don’t! I’m super ticklish!”
“Nice,” he said, tossing Wuthering Heights aside with devilish glee and attacking her with both hands.
Julie went limp, kicking her legs at the air and smacking his chest. She was laughing so hard her stomach ached, and she couldn’t even retaliate when he sat up and pinned her to the couch, continuing his assault.
“Tim!” she shrieked, “Don’t, please! I’m dying! Stop!”
“Okay, okay,” he said, holding her down and grinning at her. “I’ll stop if you say, ‘Tim Riggins is the best looking guy in Dillon’.”
“Fine, just stop!” she choked, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Tim Riggins is… the biggest dumbass in Dillon!”
“Oh, no,” he said, shaking his head as though this turn of events saddened him. “You’re dead, Taylor.”
His quick hands shoved her t-shirt up to expose her bare midsection, and before she could move, he leaned down and blew loudly on her stomach.
“Oh my god,” she laughed, “I cannot believe you just gave me a raspberry!”
He lifted his head and smiled up at her, laughing too, and suddenly it hit Julie that Tim Riggins had her pinned on her couch, his flushed face practically in her crotch.
Julie pushed her shirt back down and began to sit up. Tim pulled away immediately, moving back to his end of the couch.
“We should probably get back to work,” Julie mumbled, the playful atmosphere evaporating immediately. “My parents will be home soon.”
“Yeah,” Tim replied gruffly, retrieving his book from the floor.
They sat reading at opposite ends of the couch and didn’t say another word until her parents arrived. Tim didn't linger after they got home, and Julie watched as he slipped out the door at the first opportunity.
***
With less than a minute left in the fourth quarter and the score tied, the Panthers' whole season had come down to a shovel pass to Smash, who was in the midst of running with all his fury towards the end zone.
Julie held her breath and watched as an opposing defender came from across the field, only to be stopped short by a huge block from Tim, who went down hard with the other player beneath him.
The stadium exploded with cheers as the clock ran down and Smash dove into the end zone for a game-winning touchdown.
The crowd poured out onto Herrmann Field, the din of their jubilant voices drowning out all other sounds as they joined the team to celebrate. Julie and her mother found her father in the midst of the melee, and he tore himself away long enough to hug them both, little Gracie squished between her parents in her snuggly.
"Congratulations, daddy," Julie said, her voice muffled by his Panthers jacket.
"Thanks, sweetheart," he replied, pressing a kiss against her head. Julie felt him pull away, and lifted her head to see where her father was looking. Tim was standing a few feet away, holding his helmet and watching them. "Looks like somebody else wants congratulating, too," Coach said. Julie looked up at her father, but his face was inscrutable as he looked at Tim. She pulled away from her parents and walked over to him.
“Headed for the playoffs again,” she noted, coming to stand in front of him. “Congratulations.”
“Dunno how we pulled it off,” Tim shrugged, taking in the spectacle of his celebrating teammates and their families and fans.
“You were really great tonight,” Julie said, smiling.
“Thanks,” he beamed.
They stood there smiling at each other for several moments before Tami’s voice calling Julie interrupted them.
“I’d better go,” Julie said, glancing over at her parents. “You must have a big party to get to.”
“I guess,” Tim replied, looking around at the players remaining on the field, who were shouting congratulations to each other and noisily discussing party plans. “What are you up to tonight?”
Julie shrugged. “Probably just home to bed.”
“Oh,” Tim said, looking away. “I dunno, do you maybe wanna do something?”
“Uh, I don’t know if I’m up for the whole party thing.”
“I was thinking we could go somewhere.”
“Oh yeah?” Julie smiled. “What did you have in mind?”
“I don’t know,” he frowned, thinking. “My place?”
Julie stared for a second before glancing back over her shoulder at her parents as though they might have heard Tim’s suggestion from twenty yards away.
“Not sure if my parents would really go for that,” she said delicately. She looked around at the field, which was slowly starting to empty as players and parents and friends wandered off in groups to continue their celebrations elsewhere. "I've got an idea," Julie said. "Go get changed, and meet me outside the dressing room when you're done. Take your time."
Tim smiled, looking at her in surprise. "What have you got up your sleeve, Taylor?"
"Just go get changed," she said.
Julie managed to convince her parents that it was okay to leave her behind with Tim and that she'd be home before curfew, diplomatically choosing to ignore the looks they gave one another. She waited for him at the back entrance to the field, and he had apparently taken her instructions to heart, for he was the very last player out of the dressing rooms, followed only by an assistant coach who locked up after them both before heading to the parking lot.
Tim strolled over, his jacket unzipped and his hair still damp from the shower.
"I think everyone's a little confused why I'm not gonna be at the party at my own house," he said.
"Oh," Julie stammered. "Did you want to go? We don't have to -"
"No, I'm good right here," he replied, shrugging. He frowned down at her feet. "What's that?"
"Tim Riggins not recognizing a case of beer when he sees one? What is the world coming to?" Julie smirked, stepping around the 12 pack at her feet and hefting it up onto her hip. "I got it out of your truck. Do you mind?"
"Not at all," Tim replied, reaching out and taking it from her. "So, where are we headed?"
"We're headed right here," Julie said, turning and walking out onto the field, heading for the fifty yard line. "I figured since you weren't in the mood for a party and I'm not in the mood for a party, the answer was obvious. Beer picnic."
Tim set the case of beer down on the turf and sat down next to it, pulling two cans out. He cracked them both open and handed one to Julie.
She watched him as he made to take a swig. "Wait," she said. "Don't you have a toast?"
"Oh," he said, pausing. After a moment, he held his beer aloft. "Here's to the Panthers, and to playoffs, and to good company."
Julie smiled. "To good company," she agreed, tipping her beer towards him before taking a long drag.
Two hours later, they had plowed through most of the twelve pack and Tim was loudly pondering the logistics of embarking on a beer-run while Julie attempted to make a pyramid out of their empty cans.
"No," she barked. "No - you have to stay here and help me finish this castle. No beer runs."
"We're almost out, though," Tim complained.
"How much beer do you actually need?"
"Tons," he replied, blinking at her from the ground as she put the finishing touches on her beer can pyramid.
"Right, and how do you propose we go get this beer? Should we walk to the liquor store?"
"Nah, we'll drive."
"Mmm, yeah. That sounds like a great idea."
"Why not?"
"Because you're drunk," Julie said, standing over him with her hands on her hips. "Besides," she said, her hand darting out, "You dropped your keys, and now I have them."
"Hey," Tim grumbled half-heartedly as Julie stepped away. He sat up. "Gimme those."
"No way," she smiled, shoving them into an inner pocket in her green army jacket.
"Seriously, Taylor," he said, slowly standing up. "Give 'em to me."
Julie grinned. "You have to catch me," she said, before turning and sprinting towards the end zone.
Tim stood there staring after her, slack-jawed. It was just like the dream he’d had, weeks ago, where he tried and tried to catch her but couldn’t.
Her laughter rang out in the stadium. “What’s wrong?” she called. “Big Timmy Riggins can’t catch me?”
Shaking his head, Tim took off after her, prompting her to shriek and take off in another direction. His long strides caught up to her quickly, though, and when she spun to duck around him, he caught her around the waist and lifted her up, pretending to grope for his keys.
Laughing, they fell to the ground, Julie squirming to get loose. Tim pinned her down easily, sneaking a hand into her jacket to steal his keys back.
“I win,” he panted, leaning over her and grinning.
Julie stared up at him, her expression strangely serious. She sat up, and Tim moved away to give her room. “It’s getting late,” she mumbled. “We should probably go.”
Tim sat back on his haunches, watching as she stood shakily and began picking bits of dirt and grass out of her hair.
“Okay,” he nodded, standing up to follow Julie, who was already walking away.
Chapter 7