Filling In
Title: Filling In, Part 1, Part 2
Author: Kate,
k4writer02
Recipient: Joe,
thatdudejoe
Summary/Prompt used: While Coach and Henry Saracen are away, Matt fills in. In the days leading up to Julie’s Sweet 16, Matt thinks about their relationship, life in Dillon, and what could happen when his father comes home. An indirect take on Julie’s sweet 16 and Matt’s dad returning home after State. There’s gold, surprises, and ice cream, too.
Rating: R-Mentions of physicality/ sexuality.
Author's Note: I hope you enjoy reading it and that this is what you were looking for!
Early February in Dillon-it’s cold, but the sun’s out, and the sky looks as blue as a robin’s eggshell, as clear as heaven. Amethysts, diamonds and gold sparkle in advertisements and jewelry store cases. There are pink and red paper hearts and white doilies pasted around schools and stores and restaurants.
It’s off-season for football, but basketball is stoking up, and wrestling has its day too. Slammin’ Sammy Meade is on the a.m. radio, talking Panther Hibernation, with less enthusiasm than he talks Panther football. But still. The Panthers are in a game, Sammy’s on the radio, there’s a new coach on the way, and it’s almost Valentine’s Day.
All’s right with the world, or as right as it gets.
Though it’s the basketball team’s season, the rally girls are still looking starry eyed at the state champs. Riggins always has admirers (except for that brief time when everyone hated him on Jason’s behalf), so that’s no different. And now that Waverly has gone away to Africa again, Smash has all the honeys he could ask for. Girls flirt with Brett and Bradley and Anton and Tyronn, and the boys flirt back gleefully (especially when Brett and Tyronn’s girlfriends aren’t around). Even the boys who ride the bench and never have their moment of glory under the lights don’t lack for female company.
A few girls flirt with Matt aggressively, making clear they’re willing to do favors to Dillon High’s god. But Julie wears her necklace all the time, and Lois makes it her business to launch some guerilla-gossip campaign to make clear that Matt Saracen is taken. Tyra puts a little oomph behind it, and since Matt himself is disinterested, the girls back off. So QB1 has the (ex-) Coach’s daughter, but it’s less of a cliché than it sounds.
It’s the greatest time of Matt’s life, to date, and actually, that has nothing to do with football. In some ways, his life is exactly like it was before he stepped up to be QB1 of the Dillon Panthers and led them to State. Grandma is a bit loony; Dad’s in Iraq; Mom’s so long gone he doesn’t even think about her anymore. He gets his ass kicked in off-season conditioning. The Saracen family still needs the money, so he puts in his hours at the Alamo Freeze, serving ice cream and cokes. He hangs with Landry in his free time. All that is the same.
But things are different too. Because he cares about football and Julie. Because he is QB1 now, and the off season doesn’t change that like he thought it would. Strangers stop him on the street to shake his hand, to congratulate him and tell him he did them proud. Sometimes he hates it because the one person who matters most doesn’t think this is an occasion that warrants pride. Or praise. But sometimes he kind of likes the attention, too, even when it embarrasses him, because while Henry has never said he is proud, he’s also never said that he isn’t. And Matt has an active imagination. He can pretend that his dad is waiting to tell him those words when he comes home.
Matt’s got Dad’s homecoming dreamed out a bunch of different ways. In one, Matt meets his dad at a bus station or an airport and “I’m proud of you, son” is the first thing Henry says, and the words are for Matt and Matt alone. Not even Grandma or Julie hears them.
In another daydream, his dad surprises him by being there at the ring ceremony or the first game of next season-some big public affair with all the families and players and fans cheering. Mitch Street gives Jason his ring, and Henry Saracen is there to hand his son a state ring. And when he does it, when Henry passes that weight to his only son, he says it loud, in front of the whole town, and everyone hears and cheers for them while they hug. But Matt thinks that if it came to that, either he or his dad would die of embarrassment before the words got all the way out. So he doesn’t dwell on that one too much. Matt’s not really an exhibitionist, after all. He doesn’t like living his life in public.
In his favorite proud-dad dream, though, they’re having dinner, him and Dad and Grandma, all at home. And they’re eating his favorite dinner-Grandma’s pot roast, lots of carrots and potatoes, lots of juicy gravy. And sweet cornbread baked in a cast-iron skillet, for soaking up that gravy. And it’s all made the way Grandma used to make it, before she started forgetting things, like whether she added salt, or what she’s making. And in his dream, it’s totally normal, a family at home with one another. Physically at home, sure, but also comfortable with each other, knowing and understanding each other. Matt asks for more bread or something, and Dad hands it to him, and they look at each other, and they don’t need words. Matt just knows, deep inside, without words, that his dad thinks he’s a man, who’s doing his community and family proud. And that’s enough. He looks for the feeling, in his father’s eyes, when they video conference at the school, but the link isn’t really clear enough to show him that detail.
Of course, not all the strangers want to say “fine job.” A fair number of them start pestering him about the future. They ask him what he thinks about the team for next season. Ask him about the head coach rumors. About who’ll be first string. On one memorable occasion, a woman his mother’s age stopped him while he and Julie were Christmas shopping and asked him “Settle a bet for me, sweetheart. Boxers or briefs?” He’d blushed and stammered and shuffled his feet and wished for a black hole to swallow him. Maybe it might’ve been a degree less awful and awkward if Julie hadn’t been standing right there laughing at him. She could’ve answered the question with perfect accuracy, but thank God, he was spared at least that much embarrassment.
Creepy older women aside (‘cougars really shouldn’t be stalking Panthers,’ Julie giggled against his skin later that night), he feels like the king of Dillon. It’s one quarter football, and three-quarters Julie. If he’s king, it’s because Julie is his queen. Maybe Julie doesn’t see it-maybe she still thinks it’s the cheerleader (Lyla) or the girl who’s sex on a stick (Tyra) who controls Dillon’s social scene. But she’s wrong. Matt and Julie, the artsy kids who listen to Dylan and the Decemberists, stand a good shot to be prom king and queen. Or they would if they were juniors and could go to prom.
Coach is gone to Austin to coach at TMU-and folks are still pissed. Matt is still pissed off, when he’s being honest with himself. But he tries to swallow that down. What right does he have to be pissed at Coach? He’s (just) a player, while Julie’s his daughter. And Mrs. Taylor swears she’s okay with it, even when she’s handing Matt batteries to change the smoke detector and light bulbs. He does a lot of the little tasks for the Taylors that he does at home-the lawn, that kind of thing. He likes being useful.
Matt and Julie lace their fingers together when they hold hands in the hallways and nothing has ever felt more right than her body beside his. They’re not having sex yet, which depresses Matt a little, but he makes himself be patient. She’s given him a few handjobs, and while he’s gotten his hands on her ass, he hasn’t gotten any further into her pants. But she’s gone to third base on him often enough that he’s edging toward trying oral, at least in his mind. He doesn’t really know how to ask for that. Talking about physical stuff still feels awkward. Making out itself is Good. Really Good. Capital G, GOOD.
But talking about it? That’s awkward. It’s firsts for both of them; she’s growing into herself and he wants so much, but he wants her to be ready. He thinks that on Valentine’s Day he might get to third base with her. He has high hopes for sliding into home base by the time school lets out. He knows it’s stupid to use baseball metaphors when he doesn’t even play it, but really, thinking about Julie in terms of tackles, first downs, and touchdowns is just bound to mess him up on the field. Cause if he thinks about Julie’s mouth while the ball is in his hands… Only bad things can result. Compartmentalizing, that’s the key. He hasn’t said anything about his hopes for sliding into home out loud, though. Too presumptuous, and also, no one’s business but theirs.
Landry doesn’t see it that way, and he continues to offer unsolicited advice, but that’s Landry for you. Matt spends more time than he ever expected telling his best friend to shut up about Julie (meaning “stop living vicariously”) and refusing to tell any of the boys what he and Julie have (and haven’t) done. There’s a large part of him-the teenage football player part-that wants to do locker room talk. There’s another part-the artist part, the part Julie knows and loves-that likes having secrets between them. Except, when he thinks about it, he’s pretty sure Tyra knows more about what he and Julie have done than Landry does. Which is an uncomfortable thought.
Matt’s been working extra hours and saving up, because Julie’s birthday is the same week as Valentine’s Day. He was planning to get one gift for both occasions, but Smash told him that if he ever wanted to get his ass laid, he would have to shell out for two presents. Smash had shaken his head like Matt was hopeless and told him, “You go around acting like that-it would be like a girl whose birthday is almost Christmas only getting one present. Everybody does that. No class. No style.”
Matt seems to remember that Smash did that to Waverly, whose birthday was December 27. And he got told off for it pretty royally, right before she took off back to Africa or a clinic or where ever. Smash isn’t telling the truth about that to anyone. But maybe, just maybe, Smash knows what he’s talking about here.
Matt spent hours thinking about what Julie would like (and what he can afford), until he finally settles on the right Valentine’s Day gift-a pair of concert tickets for her favorite band-and the right birthday gift-earrings that match the necklace he gave her to apologize for the whole half-naked calendar drama. He’ll surprise her with the earrings on her birthday, the tickets on Valentine’s Day and the concert itself is during their spring break, a month away. In San Antonio.
On the night of her birthday, he’s going to take her to dinner, and then that weekend the big party is going to happen. A lot of her family is coming in from out of town, and he’s pretty sure every kid in she’s ever mentioned liking is invited. Her mom’s only half nuts about it, which is pretty good, since Mrs. Coach loves parties but tends to stress out when she’s having one at her house. So to make everything easier, they’re renting some space at a hotel. It’s being catered, even, which they can do because Coach is making way more money at TMU.
Julie and all her friends have this thing PLANNED-Matt thinks that Lois’s recent addiction to “My Super Sweet 16” can only be disastrous. He says as much when he’s drafted into putting together party favors one Saturday, with Julie and the girls. Tyra laughs, “That’s right, Matty, complain all you want. Just don’t stop tying those pretty bows.”
Matt rolls his eyes a little and wishes Tyra had never picked up Smash and Tim’s nickname for him. Mrs. Taylor comes in then, with shopping bags and snacks. She kisses the top of Julie’s head, greets her daughter’s friends, starts showing off some baby things she bought. Tyra is the most responsive-and knowing what he knows about the attack (even though it has not been spoken of since Landry’s confession just after the Mudbowl), that makes some sense. All the girls except Julie coo over a yellow Winnie-the-Pooh onesie. To a stranger, Julie just seems a little…bored, or something. Matt knows her better than that.
Julie talks to Matt about how she feels and what she thinks and her past and her future and even the present. His girlfriend is addicted to words. She eats, breathes, and sleeps words. Meaning, he’s seen her eat alphabet soup, and she can’t seem to exhale without talking, and that one time when she fell asleep during a movie, she talked in her sleep. Nonsense words, of course, but there they were. She says them, she writes them, and she seems to need them. Matt doesn’t really need to talk that much. He likes listening to her, and he likes the way she listens to him, but he’s not like her. It’s easier for him to just let the words wash over him than to make his own. Julie is furious that her dad is gone and glad that she’s still here (that they listened to her for once), and she’s kind of confused and uncertain about how everything is changing. She thought staying in Dillon would make everything stay good, but time keeps running. It shows through the holidays and marking periods and growing changes.
It shows most of all in Mrs. Taylor. Some of the guys mouthed off about Coach getting it on with her, but Matt tries not to hear stuff like that. He’s getting pretty good at not hearing what he doesn’t want to hear, if it comes to that. Mrs. Coach has started to wear loose, flowing shirts. They’re supposed to cover her belly (which is thickening, but hasn’t really “popped” in that pregnant woman’s way.) The shirts show that her breasts are fuller, since her pregnancy, so Matt tries not to look.
And Julie’s in her last week of being fifteen. She’s not enthusiastic about her future sibling. It’s partly embarrassment at this evidence that her parents, well, do it. But Tami’s tired in the afternoons and she sleeps a lot, which gives Julie lots of free time. Which is a perk.
Mrs. Taylor has a sister in Dallas, which is three hours from Austin and four hours from San Antonio. Julie’s told him that ever since she was eight years old, Aunt Shelley has promised that for her sixteenth birthday, Shelley is going to bring her to visit San Antonio. They’re going to shop and eat and go to parties along the Riverwalk. And when she’s twenty-one, Shelley is going to buy her a fishbowl margarita there. And since she’s told Aunt Shelley all about Matt, he’s invited to San Antonio too, for all of spring break week, Aunt Shelley’s treat.
Julie was breathless and flushed a little pink when she invited him. He had hesitated, wanting it so bad. But reality infringed, “Ah…I just don’t think I can leave my grandma that long.”
Julie’d looked stunned. She knew it already of course; it was a fact of their relationship, that Matt had to arrange for someone to take care of his Grandma. But Julie tended to forget every now and then. She had that luxury, of being able to forget. And sometimes that irritated Matt, and then he felt guilty for letting it get under his skin because of course he didn’t want Julie to understand family and duty like he did. He wanted her to stay innocent.
But she was so disappointed about the trip that a reckless question popped out, “But what about when we go to college? Are you going to be able to leave her alone then?”
She’s talking about the future in terms of a “we,” and he can’t tell her he doesn’t really expect to go to college in the same time frame as she does. That’s for boys with money. No, Matt will pay for college by enlisting in the US Army. He’ll be the fourth generation of Saracens to join up, but he’s going to be the first to refuse to go career. He’ll enlist, and after his tour, that’s when he’ll go to college.
And somehow, he just doesn’t see Julie in that future. She’s too smart, too ambitious, too much her mother’s daughter to be an army wife. That moment-the idea that maybe they don’t have a future, that Julie’s going somewhere he can’t follow-it fills his gut with a hollow, panicky feeling. He can feel sweat start to prickle all over his body.
He can’t tell her that, knows he doesn’t have words to make her understand. He stammers something about getting someone for a long weekend He’s working on arrangements for Grandma that don’t involve Landry, cause he’s going to need Landry and his car to get to San Antonio at all. He’s trying to talk Tyra into it, since his grandma likes her so much. But it’s not like Tyra really owes him anything, and that’s a big damn favor to ask anyone.
The other reason he won’t go for the whole week is that if Mrs. Taylor heard that he would be there, that’d be the end of Julie’s big trip and Matt is so not getting between Julie and her Mom. Julie’s gratitude for getting to stay in Dillon is wearing thin, and they’re fighting more.
Part 2