fic: I Came This Far Across the Tracks (Friday Night Lights, Tyra/Lyla)
I Came This Far Across the Tracks
fandom: friday night lights
recipient: likeadeuce
pairing: tyra/lyla
rating: pg
disclaimer: texas is a figment of my imagination. really.
notes: many thanks to ip, for last minute beta work. this was a pinch hit i was lucky enough to get!
summary: But way back where I come from, we never mean to bother,
We don’t like to make our passions other people’s concern,
And we walk in the world of safe people, and at night we walk into our houses and burn.
(Dar Williams)
*
It was one of those nights that happened more than either of them cared to count - out with the boys, Texas forever, piles of crumpled beer cans. Of course, only in the off season, only once a week at most because Jason was careful with himself. Perhaps that was the worst part of it all. Jason never drove drunk. He always showed up to practice on time. He loved the game, and not just because he was a star. Jason worried about injuries and stupid mistakes. He wouldn’t even think about going on a ski trip Lyla once suggested; the risk was too high.
But Tim, well, Tyra would swear sometimes that Tim was better drunk than he was sober. Tim didn’t care. His best friend was going places, and he would follow. Wherever Jason wanted to go, Tim would go too. He’d be his best man, his bodyguard, his wingman. Jason knew Tim for who he was, didn’t try to change him like everyone else. Texas forever. Always.
They were sitting around a fire in a can, Tim and Tyra leaning against the back of Tim’s truck, Lyla sitting on Jason’s lap. It was Jason who brought it up, which is maybe why Lyla went for it. But it wasn’t Riggins. Both girls agreed on that.
“So, uhh,” and Jason was laughing, reaching for another beer, trying not to knock Lyla in the dirt. Tim grinned at him. “Have you, you know, what I mean is, Tyra, you’ve, you know-”
“Oh spit it out, Six. Jesus, you either need to drink more or stop all together.” Tim let out a loud short laugh and Lyla shot Tyra a look, but Tyra just raised her eyebrows back. “What is it you want to know if I’ve done?”
“Well, since Mindy, is, you know-”
“A stripper, yes, I think we have my family covered, thank you, Jason Street, star quarterback of the Dillon Panthers. If only the State could see you now -”
“Hey, Tyra, lay-off, man. He’s just relaxing a little. Havin’ some fun.” Tim lifted his beer up to Street in an air toast. To what, didn’t matter. Solidarity, that was the key. Tyra just raised her hands, staying out of it for once, and leaned back against Tim’s chest.
Lyla poked Jason’s arm. “Stop being rude, Jason. If you have something to ask, ask it.”
“Well, yes, Miss Lyla Garrity, I suppose I have been being a touch rude.” Lyla smacked Jason lightly on the arm. “Anyway, what I want to know, Ms. Collette,” Lyla smacked him here again, a sigh of indignation sounding rather petulant, but Jason continued, “Is if you have ever, uhh, kissed another girl.”
“Jason!” Lyla shot out of his lap, a look of complete shock on her face. “That is not an appropriate question to ask anyone.”
“Well, her sister is a stripper,” Tim defended.
“And this is Texas, I’ll have you remember, where no one takes too lightly to any weird sexual stuff,” Tyra said, crossing her arms. “We’re not all football players who like to slap each other’s asses and wave our penises around in the air like they are swords or something and get away with it.”
“I’m with Street. I would pay good money to see you make out with some chick. That would be hot. ” Tim leaned back and almost leered at Lyla, who was focusing most of her attention on Jason. “Definitely hot.”
“Glad to know how quickly you turn into my pimp there, Riggins.” Tyra tried to sound offended, but she wasn’t, not at all. Let’s face it, her sister was a stripper and her mother was no role model. Had she ever even had a shot for a strong male figure in her life? Or a female that wasn’t hitching herself to a man just to survive? It wasn’t like Tim was the ideal man either. Who knew, Tyra thought. Maybe women could be better to each other.
But Lyla, Lyla couldn’t stay quiet. This was going too far, too ridiculous, how much had Jason had to drink? And no, it wasn’t because she was driving everyone home that night. Tyra would attest to that - Lyla was on her high horse even when she was drunk as a skunk. Which was another reason the whole night was so surprising.
Lyla took the bait.
“What, you think it’s sooo hot to see two girls making out? Why, you think we have slumber parties and braid each other’s hair and have pillow fights in our pajamas with ruffles and lace?” Tyra could tell that’s exactly what the boys wanted to think, whether it was true or not, but Lyla’s soap box was too big for her to see over. “How about that boy who was killed in Wyoming for being gay? You think because you have girlfriends and play football life is all easy and perfect. As if Tyra wouldn’t be run out of Dillon if people thought she was dating a girl. But it’s all fine to think about and fantasize about. What is it about men and the objectification of women? Don’t you know there are girls in Africa who are being raped before puberty because the men know if they are virgins they won’t have AIDS? Do you even care? No. Jesus, you two. All you care about is football, and Texas, and girls. Well, happy early birthday, Jason. I hope this is what you wanted.”
And then Lyla was pressed against Tyra, lips and body and breath, and Tyra wanted to looked shocked and offended that Lyla was just using her to make a point, but man, she could kiss. She could understand why Street would keep a girl like Lyla Garrity around and not cheat on her. Those lips were amazing - I-know-what-I’m-doing lips, but pliant and soft at the same time. That Madonna-whore thing her English teacher was always talking about, the class she would almost have to repeat thanks to Mrs. Taylor a year later, was definitely something Lyla had down cold. It didn’t hurt that if Lyla was kissing Tyra, there was no way Lyla could talk. So even though Tyra wanted to push Lyla away, she didn’t, because, well, hell, why not give the boys a show if they wanted a show?
So Tyra’s hands were quickly under Lyla’s shirt and Lyla opened her mouth and Tyra pushed her tongue in. She half expected Lyla to bite down, and hard, but Lyla grabbed Tyra and pulled her closer, kissing and kissing and kissing. It was better than kissing Jason, though she would never admit it. It was better than any kiss she’d ever had, because there was no pressure. She didn’t like Tyra and Tyra didn’t like her. This was just proving a point. It didn’t matter. It definitely didn’t matter that Tyra really knew what she was doing with her tongue and her hands. Lyla laced her fingers through Tyra’s short hair and twirled her fingers. Tyra made a noise of surprise, and Lyla almost giggled - but that would have ruined the moment, and so she didn’t.
It was Tim’s clapping that finally broke them apart. Jason was just sitting there, mouth open wide, his face a cross between learning the Easter bunny doesn’t exist and throwing the winning TD at State.
Lyla flipped her hair with the practised ease of a girl who spent her entire life waiting to be on varsity cheer squad. She fixed her glare on Jason. “Everything you ever imagined?”
Tyra wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
Later, when Tyra was sitting on Tim’s front porch after the All-American Couple dropped them off, Tim turned to Tyra.
“That was seriously hot, man.” Tyra rested her palms behind her, leaned back and looked at the stars. “I mean, the way she just, well, jumped you, and then you two were going at it. I mean, I never thought that little Miss Texas Princess had it in her, you know?”
She didn’t even look at him. “What, Tim? Lyla Garrity give you a hard on? That what you tryin’ to tell me? Cause feel free to go chase that tail all the way to kingdom come. It ain’t happenin’.”
Later still, when they were in bed together, all sweat and grunts and bruises, Tyra thought about Lyla. She thought about Lyla’s lips, and the way Lyla’s hips moved, and how quick Lyla was to ask if Jason was happy. If Tyra were honest, which she was when it came to her relationship to Tim, at least, mostly, she’d acknowledge it to Tim. Because Tyra might have had problems passing algebra, but she knew Tim Riggins better than she knew her own mother. And Tim was thinking of Lyla too, and the way she looked closing the distance between her and Tyra, the way Lyla’s dark eyes closed when the girls kissed.
*
It happened again. Small towns keep their secrets, but Lyla and Tyra knew too many of the same people to avoid each other for long. So when Lyla cried about how she was cheating on Jason with Tim, Tyra knew how Lyla felt. When Tyra and Tim broke up, again (and again), Lyla knew what it was like. Lyla found God, and later, she found Tyra again. When Buddy gave Angela a job, who could expect them not to talk about the stupidity of their parents? Who could blame them for yelling at each other, throwing things - at least, Tyra threw things - and then trying to erase it all in any way possible? They watched each other change from the sidelines. Cheer-leading wasn’t as important. Tyra started listening to Lyla talk about Vanderbilt and got a meeting with Mrs. Taylor. Lyla cast a secret ballot for student council president.
It was never more than that though, peripheral, secondary, two planets circling the same stars with different orbits. Paths sometimes crossing, they would kiss, they would touch, they would tell the truth. It only lasted for moments each time. But they would inevitably meet again, in a hallway, after a practice, at some party. And there was always that spark, that sense of recognition, that something that made Lyla think of how she used to read Anne of Green Gables all the time when she was younger, wishing she had someone like Diana to be her bosom friend. Not that she would ever tell Tyra that, not that Tyra would ever really understand what Lyla meant.
If anything, Tyra was used to people leaving. So when Lyla managed to get herself financed to Vandy, it didn’t break her heart, didn’t keep her from saying things about silver spoons and “If I had a Daddy with money like Buddy,” even if everyone knew it wasn’t true, Tyra most of all.. And Lyla was quietly proud that Tyra followed through and got into college, that she didn’t become a rodeo groupie, or whatever they were called.
It keeps happening, of course, because it’s Texas and there are secrets in Texas. Dillon is no exception. The girls leave Texas, but Dillon doesn’t leave them. Jason’s in New York trying to make things work in a way that makes Lyla terribly proud and Tyra terribly sad. Tim’s still in Dillon. Lyla and Tyra get out the same way - college - but Buddy’s in Dillon, and so is Mindy, and now the baby. Even now, Tyra still catches her breath a bit every time she sees Lyla’s lips.
Turns out, it really is Texas forever.
fandom: friday night lights
recipient: likeadeuce
pairing: tyra/lyla
rating: pg
disclaimer: texas is a figment of my imagination. really.
notes: many thanks to ip, for last minute beta work. this was a pinch hit i was lucky enough to get!
summary: But way back where I come from, we never mean to bother,
We don’t like to make our passions other people’s concern,
And we walk in the world of safe people, and at night we walk into our houses and burn.
(Dar Williams)
*
It was one of those nights that happened more than either of them cared to count - out with the boys, Texas forever, piles of crumpled beer cans. Of course, only in the off season, only once a week at most because Jason was careful with himself. Perhaps that was the worst part of it all. Jason never drove drunk. He always showed up to practice on time. He loved the game, and not just because he was a star. Jason worried about injuries and stupid mistakes. He wouldn’t even think about going on a ski trip Lyla once suggested; the risk was too high.
But Tim, well, Tyra would swear sometimes that Tim was better drunk than he was sober. Tim didn’t care. His best friend was going places, and he would follow. Wherever Jason wanted to go, Tim would go too. He’d be his best man, his bodyguard, his wingman. Jason knew Tim for who he was, didn’t try to change him like everyone else. Texas forever. Always.
They were sitting around a fire in a can, Tim and Tyra leaning against the back of Tim’s truck, Lyla sitting on Jason’s lap. It was Jason who brought it up, which is maybe why Lyla went for it. But it wasn’t Riggins. Both girls agreed on that.
“So, uhh,” and Jason was laughing, reaching for another beer, trying not to knock Lyla in the dirt. Tim grinned at him. “Have you, you know, what I mean is, Tyra, you’ve, you know-”
“Oh spit it out, Six. Jesus, you either need to drink more or stop all together.” Tim let out a loud short laugh and Lyla shot Tyra a look, but Tyra just raised her eyebrows back. “What is it you want to know if I’ve done?”
“Well, since Mindy, is, you know-”
“A stripper, yes, I think we have my family covered, thank you, Jason Street, star quarterback of the Dillon Panthers. If only the State could see you now -”
“Hey, Tyra, lay-off, man. He’s just relaxing a little. Havin’ some fun.” Tim lifted his beer up to Street in an air toast. To what, didn’t matter. Solidarity, that was the key. Tyra just raised her hands, staying out of it for once, and leaned back against Tim’s chest.
Lyla poked Jason’s arm. “Stop being rude, Jason. If you have something to ask, ask it.”
“Well, yes, Miss Lyla Garrity, I suppose I have been being a touch rude.” Lyla smacked Jason lightly on the arm. “Anyway, what I want to know, Ms. Collette,” Lyla smacked him here again, a sigh of indignation sounding rather petulant, but Jason continued, “Is if you have ever, uhh, kissed another girl.”
“Jason!” Lyla shot out of his lap, a look of complete shock on her face. “That is not an appropriate question to ask anyone.”
“Well, her sister is a stripper,” Tim defended.
“And this is Texas, I’ll have you remember, where no one takes too lightly to any weird sexual stuff,” Tyra said, crossing her arms. “We’re not all football players who like to slap each other’s asses and wave our penises around in the air like they are swords or something and get away with it.”
“I’m with Street. I would pay good money to see you make out with some chick. That would be hot. ” Tim leaned back and almost leered at Lyla, who was focusing most of her attention on Jason. “Definitely hot.”
“Glad to know how quickly you turn into my pimp there, Riggins.” Tyra tried to sound offended, but she wasn’t, not at all. Let’s face it, her sister was a stripper and her mother was no role model. Had she ever even had a shot for a strong male figure in her life? Or a female that wasn’t hitching herself to a man just to survive? It wasn’t like Tim was the ideal man either. Who knew, Tyra thought. Maybe women could be better to each other.
But Lyla, Lyla couldn’t stay quiet. This was going too far, too ridiculous, how much had Jason had to drink? And no, it wasn’t because she was driving everyone home that night. Tyra would attest to that - Lyla was on her high horse even when she was drunk as a skunk. Which was another reason the whole night was so surprising.
Lyla took the bait.
“What, you think it’s sooo hot to see two girls making out? Why, you think we have slumber parties and braid each other’s hair and have pillow fights in our pajamas with ruffles and lace?” Tyra could tell that’s exactly what the boys wanted to think, whether it was true or not, but Lyla’s soap box was too big for her to see over. “How about that boy who was killed in Wyoming for being gay? You think because you have girlfriends and play football life is all easy and perfect. As if Tyra wouldn’t be run out of Dillon if people thought she was dating a girl. But it’s all fine to think about and fantasize about. What is it about men and the objectification of women? Don’t you know there are girls in Africa who are being raped before puberty because the men know if they are virgins they won’t have AIDS? Do you even care? No. Jesus, you two. All you care about is football, and Texas, and girls. Well, happy early birthday, Jason. I hope this is what you wanted.”
And then Lyla was pressed against Tyra, lips and body and breath, and Tyra wanted to looked shocked and offended that Lyla was just using her to make a point, but man, she could kiss. She could understand why Street would keep a girl like Lyla Garrity around and not cheat on her. Those lips were amazing - I-know-what-I’m-doing lips, but pliant and soft at the same time. That Madonna-whore thing her English teacher was always talking about, the class she would almost have to repeat thanks to Mrs. Taylor a year later, was definitely something Lyla had down cold. It didn’t hurt that if Lyla was kissing Tyra, there was no way Lyla could talk. So even though Tyra wanted to push Lyla away, she didn’t, because, well, hell, why not give the boys a show if they wanted a show?
So Tyra’s hands were quickly under Lyla’s shirt and Lyla opened her mouth and Tyra pushed her tongue in. She half expected Lyla to bite down, and hard, but Lyla grabbed Tyra and pulled her closer, kissing and kissing and kissing. It was better than kissing Jason, though she would never admit it. It was better than any kiss she’d ever had, because there was no pressure. She didn’t like Tyra and Tyra didn’t like her. This was just proving a point. It didn’t matter. It definitely didn’t matter that Tyra really knew what she was doing with her tongue and her hands. Lyla laced her fingers through Tyra’s short hair and twirled her fingers. Tyra made a noise of surprise, and Lyla almost giggled - but that would have ruined the moment, and so she didn’t.
It was Tim’s clapping that finally broke them apart. Jason was just sitting there, mouth open wide, his face a cross between learning the Easter bunny doesn’t exist and throwing the winning TD at State.
Lyla flipped her hair with the practised ease of a girl who spent her entire life waiting to be on varsity cheer squad. She fixed her glare on Jason. “Everything you ever imagined?”
Tyra wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
Later, when Tyra was sitting on Tim’s front porch after the All-American Couple dropped them off, Tim turned to Tyra.
“That was seriously hot, man.” Tyra rested her palms behind her, leaned back and looked at the stars. “I mean, the way she just, well, jumped you, and then you two were going at it. I mean, I never thought that little Miss Texas Princess had it in her, you know?”
She didn’t even look at him. “What, Tim? Lyla Garrity give you a hard on? That what you tryin’ to tell me? Cause feel free to go chase that tail all the way to kingdom come. It ain’t happenin’.”
Later still, when they were in bed together, all sweat and grunts and bruises, Tyra thought about Lyla. She thought about Lyla’s lips, and the way Lyla’s hips moved, and how quick Lyla was to ask if Jason was happy. If Tyra were honest, which she was when it came to her relationship to Tim, at least, mostly, she’d acknowledge it to Tim. Because Tyra might have had problems passing algebra, but she knew Tim Riggins better than she knew her own mother. And Tim was thinking of Lyla too, and the way she looked closing the distance between her and Tyra, the way Lyla’s dark eyes closed when the girls kissed.
*
It happened again. Small towns keep their secrets, but Lyla and Tyra knew too many of the same people to avoid each other for long. So when Lyla cried about how she was cheating on Jason with Tim, Tyra knew how Lyla felt. When Tyra and Tim broke up, again (and again), Lyla knew what it was like. Lyla found God, and later, she found Tyra again. When Buddy gave Angela a job, who could expect them not to talk about the stupidity of their parents? Who could blame them for yelling at each other, throwing things - at least, Tyra threw things - and then trying to erase it all in any way possible? They watched each other change from the sidelines. Cheer-leading wasn’t as important. Tyra started listening to Lyla talk about Vanderbilt and got a meeting with Mrs. Taylor. Lyla cast a secret ballot for student council president.
It was never more than that though, peripheral, secondary, two planets circling the same stars with different orbits. Paths sometimes crossing, they would kiss, they would touch, they would tell the truth. It only lasted for moments each time. But they would inevitably meet again, in a hallway, after a practice, at some party. And there was always that spark, that sense of recognition, that something that made Lyla think of how she used to read Anne of Green Gables all the time when she was younger, wishing she had someone like Diana to be her bosom friend. Not that she would ever tell Tyra that, not that Tyra would ever really understand what Lyla meant.
If anything, Tyra was used to people leaving. So when Lyla managed to get herself financed to Vandy, it didn’t break her heart, didn’t keep her from saying things about silver spoons and “If I had a Daddy with money like Buddy,” even if everyone knew it wasn’t true, Tyra most of all.. And Lyla was quietly proud that Tyra followed through and got into college, that she didn’t become a rodeo groupie, or whatever they were called.
It keeps happening, of course, because it’s Texas and there are secrets in Texas. Dillon is no exception. The girls leave Texas, but Dillon doesn’t leave them. Jason’s in New York trying to make things work in a way that makes Lyla terribly proud and Tyra terribly sad. Tim’s still in Dillon. Lyla and Tyra get out the same way - college - but Buddy’s in Dillon, and so is Mindy, and now the baby. Even now, Tyra still catches her breath a bit every time she sees Lyla’s lips.
Turns out, it really is Texas forever.