Friday Night Lights - "If This One Could Be With You", Tim/Julie, R
Title: If This One Could Be With You - Chapter 8/10
Author: lindentree
Rating: R
Character(s): Tim/Julie
Word Count: 5,074
Summary: After 2x11, "Jumping the Gun", Julie's parents come up with an appropriate punishment for her - tutoring Tim Riggins.
Thanks to the_wanlorn for the beta, and to ishie for helping me get all the football stuff right. Um, hopefully.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Tim drove aimlessly around town late Sunday afternoon, lost in thought. He was alternating between feeling sorry for himself because Julie had gone on a date, and feeling aggravated that he still cared that Julie had gone on a date. The last time he cared, it had cost him two of the people he loved most in the world.
Yes, there was certainly something to be said for living life like last summer, the days flowing seamlessly into each other, an endless stream of late nights, parties, and sex. But even Tim could eventually grow tired of those hangover days spent sprawled in bed, head pounding, his mind struggling to recall anything at all. That was the way he’d woken up that very morning, squinting at the harsh morning light and wondering what the hell had happened the night before. He remembered a party, and a lot of beer, and then a whole lot of nothing.
Tim pulled into the parking lot of the Alamo Freeze. The restaurant was relatively deserted. Leaning forward against the steering wheel, Tim saw that both Seven and Smash were working, and Landry was seated up on the counter, chatting animatedly to them. Tim smiled and got out of the truck.
“Well, if it isn’t Timmy Riggins,” Smash said, the minute Tim stepped in the door. “Where’ve you been, baby? I feel like I ain’t hardly seen you anywhere but practice in weeks.”
“Around, you know,” Tim replied, sitting up on one of the many empty tables. He nodded at the other two boys. “Seven, Lando.”
“Riggins,” Landry replied. Matt didn’t respond, just gave a slight nod in Tim’s direction, his expression guarded.
“Hey, can I ask you guys a question?” Tim asked.
“Sure,” said Smash, looking dubious.
“What do you do if, like - hypothetically - you like this girl, and you kinda think she might like you back, but she’s dating some other guy anyway?”
Smash, Matt, and Landry all stared at Tim for a beat, their mouths hanging open in identical expressions of bewilderment.
“Sorry,” Smash said, giving his head a shake. “Did you just say you like a girl?”
“Yeah,” Tim replied, then frowned. “No, it’s hypothetical.”
“Right, right. So, this hypothetical guy who likes this hypothetical girl, does he have any idea how weird it is that he’s coming to his teammates for advice when it’s common knowledge that he’s slept with half the girls in west Texas?”
“Yeah,” Landry piped up. “I didn’t realise there were women who could resist your charms, Riggins.”
“Fine,” Tim scowled. “If you’re not gonna help-“
“Who’s the girl?” Matt interrupted, very obviously trying to keep his tone casual.
“Just a girl,” Tim shrugged, meeting Matt’s steady gaze.
“She must be quite the lady to have caught the wandering eye of our very own town Lothario,” Landry observed, oblivious to the tension building in the room.
“I’m sure if you just do your thing, she’ll come knocking,” Smash said, glancing between his quarterback and his fullback. “They usually do.”
“Yeah,” Tim replied, frowning. What was his thing? Getting drunk and sleeping with a girl at a party, then moving onto a new girl by the next party, he supposed. Pretending to have done that showed him that Julie had a jealous streak, but he had a feeling actually doing it would not win her over. Julie was sensitive, and the last thing Tim wanted to do was fall back into a relationship which consisted of jealous sexual one-upmanship, as had been the case with the only other real girlfriend he’d ever had, Tyra.
“Look Riggins, I’m gonna give you a piece of advice here,” Landry said, hopping down off the counter. “Obviously no one has ever bothered to impart any manly wisdom to you up until this moment.” Smash scoffed, but Landry ignored him.
“The thing about women is this - women are people. They’re just people. There’s not a whole lot you can do to make a girl like you, she either does or she doesn’t. You just have to try to be the best person you can be, and hope that she likes you for who you are. If she doesn’t, some other girl will. That’s all there is to it.”
“That’s actually not half bad,” Smash admitted, surprised.
“How do I be the best person I can be?” Tim asked.
Landry smiled. “Show up on time. Care about her, not just what you want from her. Be there for her. Be her friend.”
“Be forgiving,” Matt said softly, looking right at Tim, his expression inscrutable.
Tim met Matt’s eyes again and stared at him a moment before looking away.
“I really feel like we’ve all shared something special here today,” Landry announced, looking at his teammates.
Smash rolled his eyes in disdain and disappeared into the back while Matt merely shook his head.
Tim thought over what his teammates had said. Be a good friend. Be a good friend while Julie goes on dates with some little tenth grade jerk-off who probably couldn’t even make third-string if he tried?
Sure. No worries.
***
“If you’re wondering if a boy is thinking about you, he’s not. He’s thinking about sex or he’s hungry, those are the only two options.”
Julie stared across the table at Tim’s lowered head, her father’s words of advice echoing in her head. Tim was engrossed in studying for finals, and she was engrossed in studying him.
Neither of them had mentioned Saturday night, and Julie was getting more and more confused with every passing minute.
Tim sighed, frowning as he turned another page in his chemistry textbook.
Unable to stand it another second, Julie cleared her throat. “So, you were pretty drunk the other night.”
“I know,” Tim replied, looking up at her and grimacing. “I think I’m still feelin’ it a little, actually.”
“I bet; you were practically incoherent,” Julie said. “Do you even remember how you got home?”
“Billy came and got me,” he replied.
Julie scoffed. “Actually, no. I drove you home.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. You don’t remember?”
“No,” he replied, looking sheepish. “Sorry. What happened?”
“I went to the party with Tyra, and when I saw how drunk you were, I figured maybe you should just go home. I was right, because that’s when you started picking fights with people. Smash and Bradley helped me get you out to the truck.”
“The truck,” he repeated, frowning down at the table. “Then what?”
Julie paused, watching him closely. He obviously didn’t remember what had happened between them. Clearing her throat as an angry, hurt flush spread across her cheeks, she continued.
“Uh, then I pretty much took your keys and drove you to your place. Billy gave me a ride home.”
“Sorry, Jules.”
“It’s okay,” she said, although the whole thing felt anything but okay. “What got into you?”
“Dunno,” he shrugged. “Don’t know when to say when sometimes, I guess.”
"I guess," Julie echoed, scrutinizing him.
"What?" he asked.
"Nothing, just..." Julie hemmed, trying to think of a way to ask him about what happened that wasn't appallingly awkward and embarrassing. "Um, it's just... You shouldn't do that to yourself, that's all. It's bad for you," she mumbled, looking back down at her books.
"Thanks, Dr. Taylor," Tim smirked.
"Oh, whatever," Julie muttered. She picked up her pen once more and began concentrating on her work, feeling stupid. He had been so drunk he didn’t even remember what happened. He probably would have made out with a telephone pole.
Billy was obviously full of crap, or had meant something else by what he’d said to her. She swallowed, surprised at how hurt she felt. It seemed like no matter what she did, she couldn’t stop wondering if Tim felt the same way she did, and he couldn’t stop disappointing her.
***
Tim hurried home after tutoring, hoping that Billy would be there. He needed to find out what else happened on Saturday night, because he had apparently missed a few important things on account of being drunk. Namely, that he and Julie had kissed.
As soon as Julie mentioned driving him home, foggy imprints of that night drifted up to the surface of his mind. He remembered punching someone, and sitting in his truck, and that Julie’s eyes had been huge and dark in the dim light. He remembered the feeling of her body up against his.
Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Tim turned onto his street and pulled up in front of his house, parking the truck haphazardly in the driveway.
Inside, Billy was stretched out on the couch, watching America’s Next Top Model.
“Billy, turn that crap off, I need to talk to you,” Tim snapped, standing in the middle of the living room with his hands on his hips.
“It’s not crap,” Billy frowned. “What’s with you?”
“Did Julie bring me home on Saturday night?”
“Yeah. Jesus, how drunk were you?”
“Never mind. What the hell happened?”
“Julie brought you home and we dumped you in bed, and then I gave her a ride home.”
“How did she seem? Weird or anything?”
“I don’t know, Tim, she seemed kinda tired, I guess. She was worried about you.”
“Worried? What do you mean?”
“I mean, she seemed worried about how drunk you were.”
“Huh. She say anything on the way home?”
“Uh, no,” Billy said, raising his eyebrows as he turned the volume back up on the TV.
“Billy.”
“Oh, for crying out - she likes you, all right?”
“What?”
“She likes you, Tim. It’s obvious. I said something about her date and she got all weird about why you and me talk about her and, look, whatever, it’s just obvious that she’s got a thing for you.”
“Then why’s she dating this other guy, then?”
“What? She’s not. She went on one date with him and it sounded to me like there wasn’t much going on there.”
Tim glared down at his brother. “What do I do?”
“I think you should tell her you like her, ‘cause one, I’m getting kinda sick of all the high school drama, and two, then you might actually get laid before Friday. Get nice and limber. First game of the playoffs, little brother. Can’t lose your focus now, Julie or no Julie.”
Billy took a swig of his beer, returning his attention to the TV. Tim stayed where he was, staring off into the middle distance. He was no less confused than he’d been after leaving the Taylors’. If Billy was right and Julie felt the way Tim did, why didn’t she say anything about their kiss? Most other girls he knew would have been only too happy to remind him that they’d kissed.
Tim sighed, rubbing his face in frustration. What was he thinking? He’d figured out ages ago that Julie was not most other girls he knew.
***
“Tim!”
A familiar voice cut through the noise in the hallway, calling his name, but Tim did his best to ignore it.
“Hey, Tim!” the voice repeated, much closer. Tim stopped and turned, coming face to face with Tyra.
“I wanna talk to you,” she bit out, grabbing his arm and pushing him ahead of her into an empty classroom. He frowned and pulled his arm out of her grip, but didn’t otherwise protest.
“What?” he asked, once they were out of the noisy stream of students in the hallway.
Tyra scowled at him, her arms crossed over her chest like gripping her upper arms with her hands was the only thing keeping her from slapping him silly.
“’What’?” she repeated, incredulous. “That’s all you have to say for yourself?”
“Yeah, what?” he replied, his hackles rising the way they always did when Tyra gave him the gears.
“Oh my god,” Tyra breathed, casting her eyes heavenward as if to ask, Can you even believe this guy? “You are just so damn dense, Tim.”
“If that’s all you had to tell me, I’m gonna go, because I’ve gotta get to Chemis-“
“Julie told me what happened.”
“Julie told you what happened?” he asked, cautious.
“That you kissed her at the party on Saturday, dumbass,” she spat, glaring at him. “I knew I shouldn’t have let her take you home.”
“Oh,” Tim said, frowning down at the floor.
“Ah, so you do remember. Amazing. Any particular reason you’re pretending it didn’t happen? Are those blackouts starting to stick? Little embarrassed that you slobbered cheap beer all over her? Or are you just feeling extra specially cruel and selfish today?”
Tim glared at Tyra, but didn’t reply.
“Look, I don’t know how you feel about her, and to be honest, I don’t really care. But Julie’s not...” Tyra looked down, suddenly seeming awkward and self-conscious. She paused, choosing her words carefully. “She’s a nice girl, Tim. She’s a sweet person, and she’s my friend. So if you’re just looking for kicks, go find ‘em somewhere else.”
“I’m not just looking for kicks,” Tim said softly, with an earnest shrug.
Tyra fixed him with that gimlet eye that had always seen him a little too clearly for his comfort. She looked at him like that, hard, for several beats, before nodding and looking away. She sighed.
“Okay,” she said finally, shrugging. “You’re free to go.”
Rolling his eyes, Tim shouldered his backpack and headed for the door.
“But Tim?”
He turned back to see Tyra watching him go, her hands on her hips.
“You hurt her, and I’ll cut your balls off myself. That’s a promise,” she said, before flashing him a dazzling heartbreaker of a smile and stalking past him, out of the classroom.
Tim watched her go, a smile spreading across his face. Dense he may be, but even Tim was smart enough to know that Tyra was completely sincere.
***
Friday arrived, bringing with it the first game of the playoffs. The Panthers were facing off against the Warfield Warriors on their home turf, Herrmann Field.
Julie leaned against the passenger side door of her father’s SUV, which was parked outside the field house. Gracie was bundled up for the cool evening, cuddled up against Julie’s chest in her Snugli. Their mother had passed her off to Julie as soon as they arrived, for as soon as her father disappeared into the field house, Tami was deluged by parents and fans wanting to chat excitedly before the game began.
“In a few years, you’re going to have to cope with this solo, kiddo,” Julie murmured softly to her baby sister. Gracie scrunched her face in an attempt to see Julie past the knitted winter hat which kept falling down over her eyes. Julie smiled and pushed it up for the millionth time so that Gracie could see.
“I don’t know if I’ll even be around,” Julie said, frowning. She tried to imagine where she’d be in ten, fifteen years, when Gracie would be around her age. The thought of being away from her parents and Gracie made her briefly feel scared and sick, but the thought of still living in Dillon and having her whole life revolve around the Panthers didn’t thrill her, either.
Julie’s thoughts were interrupted by an eruption of cheers on the other side of the parking lot as the last few players straggled in. Tim strode across the lot at a leisurely pace, smiling his funny half-smile at the fans and rally girls cheering at his arrival. Julie rolled her eyes dramatically before looking down at her baby sister once more.
It had been yet another awkward week of tutoring, although Julie knew she couldn’t really fault Tim for that. He had blacked out, after all, so he didn’t even know why it was that Julie was pissed off at him, and Julie certainly wasn’t about to tell him.
“Steer clear of football players, Gracie,” she sighed, shifting her sister’s weight against her. “Just steer clear of them.”
“You two all right over here?” Tami asked as she walked over, finally having broken free of the crowd of Panthers fans as they dispersed to find their seats in the stands. She held her arms out to Julie, who passed Grace over easily.
“Oh, we’re just fine,” Julie sniped. “I was giving Gracie some tips on how to deal with being the coach’s daughter in a town where no one has anything better to do than obsess over high school football.”
“Great,” Tami said cheerfully, as they turned to walk into the stadium and find their seats as well. “Gracie Bell sure is lucky to have a seasoned veteran for an older sister.” She rubbed Julie’s back affectionately. “Don’t worry - season’s almost over.”
“Can’t end soon enough for me,” Julie grumbled, following her mother through the gauntlet of rabid Panthers fans to their usual seats at the 50 yard line. Julie nodded shyly at Billy, who was a few seats down and across, and who sent her a tense little wave when he saw her, most of his attention focused on the game to come.
The marching band and the cheerleaders began to get the crowd revved up, and soon enough the announcer introduced the Dillon Panthers to thunderous cheers from the stands. The coin was tossed, and the game was underway.
Julie didn’t hate football, just the way it controlled her life. The game itself she actually enjoyed. That said, she found it very hard to concentrate on what was happening in this particular game, for her eyes kept drifting of their own accord to find number 33 on the field, wherever he might be. She spent the whole game watching him throw block after block and field the occasional pass, too. He played with such focus and determination, such energy and guts, that he seemed almost incomparable to the laidback, lazy Tim Riggins who liked to lean on her kitchen table and avoid working on his English homework at all costs.
The Tim Riggins who, only a week earlier, had laid the kind of kiss on her that kept a girl up nights. The kind of kiss which was apparently totally forgettable to some other people.
Julie stomped her feet, huffing out a frustrated sigh as the Warriors intercepted the ball. That was what troubled Julie most about the whole thing. She knew if you were that drunk and you blacked out, there wasn’t much you could do about whatever holes burned themselves through your memory. That didn’t make it any less upsetting to be forgotten, though.
A blow of the whistle shook Julie out of her maudlin thoughts, drawing her attention back to the situation on the field. Most of the game had been spent with the two teams within shooting range of one another, the score tied or close to it the entire time. It was now down to the last few minutes of the fourth quarter, however, and the Warriors had just scored a touchdown. The crowd held its collective breath as the Warfield coaches debated whether or not to try for a two-point conversion. They decided to try for it, and Tami grabbed Julie’s arm, her fingers digging in.
“Cross your fingers, honey,” Tami murmured, a tense frown on her face.
The line of scrimmage moved close to the Panthers’ goal line, and the play began. Julie watched, breathless, as the Panthers attempted to stop the ball from crossing the line. The Warriors’ running back charged through them, heaving himself onto the turf on the far side of the goal line.
The Warfield side exploded in cheers. Thirty seconds remained on the clock, and the Panthers’ only hope was to try for a touchdown in the dying moments of the game. The Panthers called a time-out and huddled around their coach. Seconds passed, and with a rallying cheer, the players jogged back onto the field.
Tami was holding Julie’s arm so tightly, she thought she might have bruises the next day. Julie’s stomach churned with nervousness - they had to come back from this, they just had to.
An encouraging cheer rose up from the Dillon side, the crowd trying to spur their team on. Play began again, with Matt receiving the snap and hurling the ball to Smash before getting slammed into the turf by a Warrior. Smash caught the ball and ran for the Warrior goal line as the clock ticked rapidly towards zero. Tim threw blocks every way he could, trying to clear the way for Smash to get through. A hulking defenseman made a run at Smash, but Tim threw every ounce of his weight into him, taking both himself and the Warrior down.
“No!” Julie shouted, horrified, as a second Warrior defenseman came, seemingly from nowhere, and rammed into Smash, batting the ball away from him in the process.
The clock hit zero, and in that instant, the Warriors won the game, and the Panthers’ season was over.
The shocked dejection of the Dillon side was palpable as they watched the Warriors’ fans flood the field while their own Panthers looked on in defeat. Slowly, the team and the fans began to leave the stadium, barely able to believe that what they had just witnessed was really true - the Panthers had lost.
Julie watched Tim as he stood, hands on his hips, watching the other team celebrate their victory. His wet hair hung down in his face as he turned and made his way to the field house. Julie glanced over at her father, who was still staring out into the field himself, both men seeming utterly confused at how this could have happened. Her heart ached for both of them, knowing how much it all meant to them. She glanced up at her mother, whose eyes shone with unshed tears as she tensely watched her husband.
“Come on,” Tami said finally, taking Julie’s hand. “Let’s go.”
They waited for Eric by the SUV, the only words spoken the farewells and promises of “we’ll get ‘em next year” to the Panthers’ fans as they walked to their cars and disappeared into the night.
Eric finally emerged from the field house, surrounded by most of his players and the other coaches. He bypassed the thinning crowd and walked directly over to his family, where Tami and Julie took turns giving him wordless, consoling hugs.
“Let’s go home,” he said gruffly, letting go of his wife to head over to the driver’s side.
Julie glanced around at the players, not seeing Tim anywhere. Matt and Smash had come out with her father, and the last few seemed to be exiting the field house.
“Mom, Dad,” she said, turning back to them. “Is it okay if I wait for Tim?”
Her parents looked at her, hesitating, before glancing at one another for some silent parental consultation.
“Sure, honey,” Tami replied, clearing her throat. “How are you gonna get home, though?”
“I can get a ride with Tim,” Julie said.
“Okay, well, curfew’s still 11:30, and if you do need a ride, make sure you call.”
“Thanks, mom,” Julie smiled, giving her mother a quick hug. “You too, dad.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Eric replied tiredly, although his eyes betrayed his affection. “You make sure my fullback doesn’t try to jump off any bridges, all right?”
“Honey,” Tami warned, frowning.
“What?” Eric complained, going around the other side of the truck and climbing in.
Julie smiled and waved as they pulled away before finding a spot along the fence to stand and wait for Tim.
Finally he emerged from the field house, and Julie figured he must be dead last. His sheepskin jacket was unzipped, and he was frowning down at the ground as he walked. He happened to look up, and his eyes landed on her. Not smiling or speaking, he walked over slowly, visibly dragging his feet. Julie did her best to repress the fond smile that quirked at his hunched shoulders.
“Hey,” she said softly, when he stopped in front of her. “I’m really sorry.”
He shrugged, looking down at the ground and shifting his duffel bag uncomfortably on his shoulders. Julie observed him for a moment before speaking again.
“Listen, um, I don’t know if you wanna go hang out with the team or Billy or just be alone, but if you want, we could -"
Tim nodded his head before she could finish, and began walking towards his truck. Wordlessly, Julie fell into step beside him. She let the silence hang heavily between them across the parking lot and into the truck, and out past the town limits as Tim drove them to the cliffs.
When they arrived, however, Tim didn’t retrieve his clubs or his empties from the bed, instead flipping the tailgate down and hopping up to sit, glumly dangling his feet. Julie hopped up and sat next to him, zipping her coat up tightly against the cool, early winter night around them.
Neither of them spoke for a long time, Tim lost in his thoughts and Julie content merely to take in the stars as they began to emerge in the sky overhead.
“Always feel like it’s my fault,” Tim finally said, his voice a low, barely audible mumble. “Like I shoulda done something, or not done something. If I’d known the plays better or watched closer or did my job right, we’d be headed to the semis.”
Julie stayed quiet for a minute, taking this in and waiting for him to finish. “Can I say something?”
Glancing at her, he nodded.
“I’ve watched a lot of football in my life, and I can say with complete certainty that there’s nothing you could have done tonight that would have changed what happened. You can’t be everywhere at once, Tim.”
“I know,” he said, exhaling loudly. “It’s just... I always feel like, if something bad happens, it’s ‘cause I screwed something up.”
Julie paused again, thinking about his words. She took a deep breath, wanting to choose her own carefully.
“Tim?”
“Yeah?”
“You know that things other people do, and things that happen randomly... You know that’s not your fault, right? That it’s not because of you?”
Tim didn’t reply, just continued to stare into the distance.
“You know what I mean?” Julie continued, uncertain of herself. “I mean, you know, you haven’t done anything to deserve this. It was out of your hands. This didn’t happen because of you.”
Tim frowned out at the quarry, looking uncomfortable.
“Sorry,” she said softly. “I’m sorry if that’s over the line.”
“How come you’re always so nice to me?” he asked.
Julie smiled, bemused. “Uh, I didn’t think I was all that nice. I give you a hard time a lot, actually.”
“Not really,” Tim replied. “I’ve never been with someone as nice as you before.”
“Thanks,” Julie said, blushing and looking down. When she glanced back up, Tim was watching her closely, his expression guarded and intense. Julie shivered.
“Jules?” he asked, his breath brushing her lips, his face was so close.
“Yeah,” she replied, as though he had asked a real question. Tim leaned in, and Julie met his lips halfway, before he could get all the way to her.
They sat there frozen for several beats before Julie tentatively placed her hands on his shoulders. With a sudden, harsh sigh, Tim ran his hands up her back and buried them in her hair, cradling her head and kissing her urgently.
Julie scooted closer to him, eventually throwing her leg over to straddle his lap, pressing herself against him and running her hands through his hair.
Tim groaned and shifted his weight back, breaking contact with her lips only to kiss his way down her neck, nudging her jacket aside.
"Whoa," Julie exhaled, laughing when she felt Tim smile against her neck. He pulled back to look at her.
"Something funny?" he asked.
"No, I just, um," she stammered, suddenly feeling incredibly shy. "I just... I like you."
"I like you, too," he said, his face serious.
"No, I know, I mean I think I like you, you know?"
"I know," he replied. "Me too."
"Really?"
"Well, yeah."
"Why?"
"Why? I said you were a catch, didn't I?" he said, smiling. "What did you think I meant?"
"Oh, well, I thought you just meant, like, in general, you know?"
"I did, but I also meant, you know, for me..." he trailed off, frowning at her. "I'm not real good at talking about this kinda stuff."
"It's okay," Julie said. “Just try.”
Tim stared up at her, and Julie felt pulled in by his expressive eyes.
“I, uh,” Tim began gruffly, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry about last weekend. I know I was outta line when I kissed you and everything, and I figured that’s why you were mad at me this week, but I didn’t want... I didn’t know what to say to you.”
“You remember?” Julie gasped, sitting back a little to look at him.
“Yeah,” he replied, not meeting her eyes. “It came back later, and then I just didn’t know how to, you know, talk about it. I’m a jackass.”
“Ugh,” Julie groaned, smacking his chest. “I was so mad at you! You finally kiss me, and then the next time I see you, you don’t even remember it? I could have strangled you. You are a jackass.”
“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely, his eyes crinkling as he smiled up at her.
“Yeah, you seem so contrite,” Julie replied, rolling her eyes. “I thought... I don’t know. I thought I was forgettable, or something. It hurt my feelings.”
The mirth disappeared from Tim’s face and he hugged her closer. “You’re not forgettable, Jules. You’re anything but forgettable.”
Julie observed his lowered head for a moment before sighing, and tugging his hair gently. He looked up. “I guess I forgive you. This time.”
Julie leaned forward, pushing until Tim got the message and reclined back onto the old carpet and the pile of tarps covering the bed of his truck. Pressing a quick kiss to his cheekbone, Julie rolled to the side and curled up against him, leaving a leg slung over his.
"Is this okay with you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
There was a pause, and then Tim's arm came up around her shoulders, holding her close. The other came up and rested on her thigh. Julie shivered.
"Yeah," Tim replied, pressing a kiss against her head. "It's okay with me."
Chapter 9
Author: lindentree
Rating: R
Character(s): Tim/Julie
Word Count: 5,074
Summary: After 2x11, "Jumping the Gun", Julie's parents come up with an appropriate punishment for her - tutoring Tim Riggins.
Thanks to the_wanlorn for the beta, and to ishie for helping me get all the football stuff right. Um, hopefully.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Tim drove aimlessly around town late Sunday afternoon, lost in thought. He was alternating between feeling sorry for himself because Julie had gone on a date, and feeling aggravated that he still cared that Julie had gone on a date. The last time he cared, it had cost him two of the people he loved most in the world.
Yes, there was certainly something to be said for living life like last summer, the days flowing seamlessly into each other, an endless stream of late nights, parties, and sex. But even Tim could eventually grow tired of those hangover days spent sprawled in bed, head pounding, his mind struggling to recall anything at all. That was the way he’d woken up that very morning, squinting at the harsh morning light and wondering what the hell had happened the night before. He remembered a party, and a lot of beer, and then a whole lot of nothing.
Tim pulled into the parking lot of the Alamo Freeze. The restaurant was relatively deserted. Leaning forward against the steering wheel, Tim saw that both Seven and Smash were working, and Landry was seated up on the counter, chatting animatedly to them. Tim smiled and got out of the truck.
“Well, if it isn’t Timmy Riggins,” Smash said, the minute Tim stepped in the door. “Where’ve you been, baby? I feel like I ain’t hardly seen you anywhere but practice in weeks.”
“Around, you know,” Tim replied, sitting up on one of the many empty tables. He nodded at the other two boys. “Seven, Lando.”
“Riggins,” Landry replied. Matt didn’t respond, just gave a slight nod in Tim’s direction, his expression guarded.
“Hey, can I ask you guys a question?” Tim asked.
“Sure,” said Smash, looking dubious.
“What do you do if, like - hypothetically - you like this girl, and you kinda think she might like you back, but she’s dating some other guy anyway?”
Smash, Matt, and Landry all stared at Tim for a beat, their mouths hanging open in identical expressions of bewilderment.
“Sorry,” Smash said, giving his head a shake. “Did you just say you like a girl?”
“Yeah,” Tim replied, then frowned. “No, it’s hypothetical.”
“Right, right. So, this hypothetical guy who likes this hypothetical girl, does he have any idea how weird it is that he’s coming to his teammates for advice when it’s common knowledge that he’s slept with half the girls in west Texas?”
“Yeah,” Landry piped up. “I didn’t realise there were women who could resist your charms, Riggins.”
“Fine,” Tim scowled. “If you’re not gonna help-“
“Who’s the girl?” Matt interrupted, very obviously trying to keep his tone casual.
“Just a girl,” Tim shrugged, meeting Matt’s steady gaze.
“She must be quite the lady to have caught the wandering eye of our very own town Lothario,” Landry observed, oblivious to the tension building in the room.
“I’m sure if you just do your thing, she’ll come knocking,” Smash said, glancing between his quarterback and his fullback. “They usually do.”
“Yeah,” Tim replied, frowning. What was his thing? Getting drunk and sleeping with a girl at a party, then moving onto a new girl by the next party, he supposed. Pretending to have done that showed him that Julie had a jealous streak, but he had a feeling actually doing it would not win her over. Julie was sensitive, and the last thing Tim wanted to do was fall back into a relationship which consisted of jealous sexual one-upmanship, as had been the case with the only other real girlfriend he’d ever had, Tyra.
“Look Riggins, I’m gonna give you a piece of advice here,” Landry said, hopping down off the counter. “Obviously no one has ever bothered to impart any manly wisdom to you up until this moment.” Smash scoffed, but Landry ignored him.
“The thing about women is this - women are people. They’re just people. There’s not a whole lot you can do to make a girl like you, she either does or she doesn’t. You just have to try to be the best person you can be, and hope that she likes you for who you are. If she doesn’t, some other girl will. That’s all there is to it.”
“That’s actually not half bad,” Smash admitted, surprised.
“How do I be the best person I can be?” Tim asked.
Landry smiled. “Show up on time. Care about her, not just what you want from her. Be there for her. Be her friend.”
“Be forgiving,” Matt said softly, looking right at Tim, his expression inscrutable.
Tim met Matt’s eyes again and stared at him a moment before looking away.
“I really feel like we’ve all shared something special here today,” Landry announced, looking at his teammates.
Smash rolled his eyes in disdain and disappeared into the back while Matt merely shook his head.
Tim thought over what his teammates had said. Be a good friend. Be a good friend while Julie goes on dates with some little tenth grade jerk-off who probably couldn’t even make third-string if he tried?
Sure. No worries.
***
“If you’re wondering if a boy is thinking about you, he’s not. He’s thinking about sex or he’s hungry, those are the only two options.”
Julie stared across the table at Tim’s lowered head, her father’s words of advice echoing in her head. Tim was engrossed in studying for finals, and she was engrossed in studying him.
Neither of them had mentioned Saturday night, and Julie was getting more and more confused with every passing minute.
Tim sighed, frowning as he turned another page in his chemistry textbook.
Unable to stand it another second, Julie cleared her throat. “So, you were pretty drunk the other night.”
“I know,” Tim replied, looking up at her and grimacing. “I think I’m still feelin’ it a little, actually.”
“I bet; you were practically incoherent,” Julie said. “Do you even remember how you got home?”
“Billy came and got me,” he replied.
Julie scoffed. “Actually, no. I drove you home.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. You don’t remember?”
“No,” he replied, looking sheepish. “Sorry. What happened?”
“I went to the party with Tyra, and when I saw how drunk you were, I figured maybe you should just go home. I was right, because that’s when you started picking fights with people. Smash and Bradley helped me get you out to the truck.”
“The truck,” he repeated, frowning down at the table. “Then what?”
Julie paused, watching him closely. He obviously didn’t remember what had happened between them. Clearing her throat as an angry, hurt flush spread across her cheeks, she continued.
“Uh, then I pretty much took your keys and drove you to your place. Billy gave me a ride home.”
“Sorry, Jules.”
“It’s okay,” she said, although the whole thing felt anything but okay. “What got into you?”
“Dunno,” he shrugged. “Don’t know when to say when sometimes, I guess.”
"I guess," Julie echoed, scrutinizing him.
"What?" he asked.
"Nothing, just..." Julie hemmed, trying to think of a way to ask him about what happened that wasn't appallingly awkward and embarrassing. "Um, it's just... You shouldn't do that to yourself, that's all. It's bad for you," she mumbled, looking back down at her books.
"Thanks, Dr. Taylor," Tim smirked.
"Oh, whatever," Julie muttered. She picked up her pen once more and began concentrating on her work, feeling stupid. He had been so drunk he didn’t even remember what happened. He probably would have made out with a telephone pole.
Billy was obviously full of crap, or had meant something else by what he’d said to her. She swallowed, surprised at how hurt she felt. It seemed like no matter what she did, she couldn’t stop wondering if Tim felt the same way she did, and he couldn’t stop disappointing her.
***
Tim hurried home after tutoring, hoping that Billy would be there. He needed to find out what else happened on Saturday night, because he had apparently missed a few important things on account of being drunk. Namely, that he and Julie had kissed.
As soon as Julie mentioned driving him home, foggy imprints of that night drifted up to the surface of his mind. He remembered punching someone, and sitting in his truck, and that Julie’s eyes had been huge and dark in the dim light. He remembered the feeling of her body up against his.
Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Tim turned onto his street and pulled up in front of his house, parking the truck haphazardly in the driveway.
Inside, Billy was stretched out on the couch, watching America’s Next Top Model.
“Billy, turn that crap off, I need to talk to you,” Tim snapped, standing in the middle of the living room with his hands on his hips.
“It’s not crap,” Billy frowned. “What’s with you?”
“Did Julie bring me home on Saturday night?”
“Yeah. Jesus, how drunk were you?”
“Never mind. What the hell happened?”
“Julie brought you home and we dumped you in bed, and then I gave her a ride home.”
“How did she seem? Weird or anything?”
“I don’t know, Tim, she seemed kinda tired, I guess. She was worried about you.”
“Worried? What do you mean?”
“I mean, she seemed worried about how drunk you were.”
“Huh. She say anything on the way home?”
“Uh, no,” Billy said, raising his eyebrows as he turned the volume back up on the TV.
“Billy.”
“Oh, for crying out - she likes you, all right?”
“What?”
“She likes you, Tim. It’s obvious. I said something about her date and she got all weird about why you and me talk about her and, look, whatever, it’s just obvious that she’s got a thing for you.”
“Then why’s she dating this other guy, then?”
“What? She’s not. She went on one date with him and it sounded to me like there wasn’t much going on there.”
Tim glared down at his brother. “What do I do?”
“I think you should tell her you like her, ‘cause one, I’m getting kinda sick of all the high school drama, and two, then you might actually get laid before Friday. Get nice and limber. First game of the playoffs, little brother. Can’t lose your focus now, Julie or no Julie.”
Billy took a swig of his beer, returning his attention to the TV. Tim stayed where he was, staring off into the middle distance. He was no less confused than he’d been after leaving the Taylors’. If Billy was right and Julie felt the way Tim did, why didn’t she say anything about their kiss? Most other girls he knew would have been only too happy to remind him that they’d kissed.
Tim sighed, rubbing his face in frustration. What was he thinking? He’d figured out ages ago that Julie was not most other girls he knew.
***
“Tim!”
A familiar voice cut through the noise in the hallway, calling his name, but Tim did his best to ignore it.
“Hey, Tim!” the voice repeated, much closer. Tim stopped and turned, coming face to face with Tyra.
“I wanna talk to you,” she bit out, grabbing his arm and pushing him ahead of her into an empty classroom. He frowned and pulled his arm out of her grip, but didn’t otherwise protest.
“What?” he asked, once they were out of the noisy stream of students in the hallway.
Tyra scowled at him, her arms crossed over her chest like gripping her upper arms with her hands was the only thing keeping her from slapping him silly.
“’What’?” she repeated, incredulous. “That’s all you have to say for yourself?”
“Yeah, what?” he replied, his hackles rising the way they always did when Tyra gave him the gears.
“Oh my god,” Tyra breathed, casting her eyes heavenward as if to ask, Can you even believe this guy? “You are just so damn dense, Tim.”
“If that’s all you had to tell me, I’m gonna go, because I’ve gotta get to Chemis-“
“Julie told me what happened.”
“Julie told you what happened?” he asked, cautious.
“That you kissed her at the party on Saturday, dumbass,” she spat, glaring at him. “I knew I shouldn’t have let her take you home.”
“Oh,” Tim said, frowning down at the floor.
“Ah, so you do remember. Amazing. Any particular reason you’re pretending it didn’t happen? Are those blackouts starting to stick? Little embarrassed that you slobbered cheap beer all over her? Or are you just feeling extra specially cruel and selfish today?”
Tim glared at Tyra, but didn’t reply.
“Look, I don’t know how you feel about her, and to be honest, I don’t really care. But Julie’s not...” Tyra looked down, suddenly seeming awkward and self-conscious. She paused, choosing her words carefully. “She’s a nice girl, Tim. She’s a sweet person, and she’s my friend. So if you’re just looking for kicks, go find ‘em somewhere else.”
“I’m not just looking for kicks,” Tim said softly, with an earnest shrug.
Tyra fixed him with that gimlet eye that had always seen him a little too clearly for his comfort. She looked at him like that, hard, for several beats, before nodding and looking away. She sighed.
“Okay,” she said finally, shrugging. “You’re free to go.”
Rolling his eyes, Tim shouldered his backpack and headed for the door.
“But Tim?”
He turned back to see Tyra watching him go, her hands on her hips.
“You hurt her, and I’ll cut your balls off myself. That’s a promise,” she said, before flashing him a dazzling heartbreaker of a smile and stalking past him, out of the classroom.
Tim watched her go, a smile spreading across his face. Dense he may be, but even Tim was smart enough to know that Tyra was completely sincere.
***
Friday arrived, bringing with it the first game of the playoffs. The Panthers were facing off against the Warfield Warriors on their home turf, Herrmann Field.
Julie leaned against the passenger side door of her father’s SUV, which was parked outside the field house. Gracie was bundled up for the cool evening, cuddled up against Julie’s chest in her Snugli. Their mother had passed her off to Julie as soon as they arrived, for as soon as her father disappeared into the field house, Tami was deluged by parents and fans wanting to chat excitedly before the game began.
“In a few years, you’re going to have to cope with this solo, kiddo,” Julie murmured softly to her baby sister. Gracie scrunched her face in an attempt to see Julie past the knitted winter hat which kept falling down over her eyes. Julie smiled and pushed it up for the millionth time so that Gracie could see.
“I don’t know if I’ll even be around,” Julie said, frowning. She tried to imagine where she’d be in ten, fifteen years, when Gracie would be around her age. The thought of being away from her parents and Gracie made her briefly feel scared and sick, but the thought of still living in Dillon and having her whole life revolve around the Panthers didn’t thrill her, either.
Julie’s thoughts were interrupted by an eruption of cheers on the other side of the parking lot as the last few players straggled in. Tim strode across the lot at a leisurely pace, smiling his funny half-smile at the fans and rally girls cheering at his arrival. Julie rolled her eyes dramatically before looking down at her baby sister once more.
It had been yet another awkward week of tutoring, although Julie knew she couldn’t really fault Tim for that. He had blacked out, after all, so he didn’t even know why it was that Julie was pissed off at him, and Julie certainly wasn’t about to tell him.
“Steer clear of football players, Gracie,” she sighed, shifting her sister’s weight against her. “Just steer clear of them.”
“You two all right over here?” Tami asked as she walked over, finally having broken free of the crowd of Panthers fans as they dispersed to find their seats in the stands. She held her arms out to Julie, who passed Grace over easily.
“Oh, we’re just fine,” Julie sniped. “I was giving Gracie some tips on how to deal with being the coach’s daughter in a town where no one has anything better to do than obsess over high school football.”
“Great,” Tami said cheerfully, as they turned to walk into the stadium and find their seats as well. “Gracie Bell sure is lucky to have a seasoned veteran for an older sister.” She rubbed Julie’s back affectionately. “Don’t worry - season’s almost over.”
“Can’t end soon enough for me,” Julie grumbled, following her mother through the gauntlet of rabid Panthers fans to their usual seats at the 50 yard line. Julie nodded shyly at Billy, who was a few seats down and across, and who sent her a tense little wave when he saw her, most of his attention focused on the game to come.
The marching band and the cheerleaders began to get the crowd revved up, and soon enough the announcer introduced the Dillon Panthers to thunderous cheers from the stands. The coin was tossed, and the game was underway.
Julie didn’t hate football, just the way it controlled her life. The game itself she actually enjoyed. That said, she found it very hard to concentrate on what was happening in this particular game, for her eyes kept drifting of their own accord to find number 33 on the field, wherever he might be. She spent the whole game watching him throw block after block and field the occasional pass, too. He played with such focus and determination, such energy and guts, that he seemed almost incomparable to the laidback, lazy Tim Riggins who liked to lean on her kitchen table and avoid working on his English homework at all costs.
The Tim Riggins who, only a week earlier, had laid the kind of kiss on her that kept a girl up nights. The kind of kiss which was apparently totally forgettable to some other people.
Julie stomped her feet, huffing out a frustrated sigh as the Warriors intercepted the ball. That was what troubled Julie most about the whole thing. She knew if you were that drunk and you blacked out, there wasn’t much you could do about whatever holes burned themselves through your memory. That didn’t make it any less upsetting to be forgotten, though.
A blow of the whistle shook Julie out of her maudlin thoughts, drawing her attention back to the situation on the field. Most of the game had been spent with the two teams within shooting range of one another, the score tied or close to it the entire time. It was now down to the last few minutes of the fourth quarter, however, and the Warriors had just scored a touchdown. The crowd held its collective breath as the Warfield coaches debated whether or not to try for a two-point conversion. They decided to try for it, and Tami grabbed Julie’s arm, her fingers digging in.
“Cross your fingers, honey,” Tami murmured, a tense frown on her face.
The line of scrimmage moved close to the Panthers’ goal line, and the play began. Julie watched, breathless, as the Panthers attempted to stop the ball from crossing the line. The Warriors’ running back charged through them, heaving himself onto the turf on the far side of the goal line.
The Warfield side exploded in cheers. Thirty seconds remained on the clock, and the Panthers’ only hope was to try for a touchdown in the dying moments of the game. The Panthers called a time-out and huddled around their coach. Seconds passed, and with a rallying cheer, the players jogged back onto the field.
Tami was holding Julie’s arm so tightly, she thought she might have bruises the next day. Julie’s stomach churned with nervousness - they had to come back from this, they just had to.
An encouraging cheer rose up from the Dillon side, the crowd trying to spur their team on. Play began again, with Matt receiving the snap and hurling the ball to Smash before getting slammed into the turf by a Warrior. Smash caught the ball and ran for the Warrior goal line as the clock ticked rapidly towards zero. Tim threw blocks every way he could, trying to clear the way for Smash to get through. A hulking defenseman made a run at Smash, but Tim threw every ounce of his weight into him, taking both himself and the Warrior down.
“No!” Julie shouted, horrified, as a second Warrior defenseman came, seemingly from nowhere, and rammed into Smash, batting the ball away from him in the process.
The clock hit zero, and in that instant, the Warriors won the game, and the Panthers’ season was over.
The shocked dejection of the Dillon side was palpable as they watched the Warriors’ fans flood the field while their own Panthers looked on in defeat. Slowly, the team and the fans began to leave the stadium, barely able to believe that what they had just witnessed was really true - the Panthers had lost.
Julie watched Tim as he stood, hands on his hips, watching the other team celebrate their victory. His wet hair hung down in his face as he turned and made his way to the field house. Julie glanced over at her father, who was still staring out into the field himself, both men seeming utterly confused at how this could have happened. Her heart ached for both of them, knowing how much it all meant to them. She glanced up at her mother, whose eyes shone with unshed tears as she tensely watched her husband.
“Come on,” Tami said finally, taking Julie’s hand. “Let’s go.”
They waited for Eric by the SUV, the only words spoken the farewells and promises of “we’ll get ‘em next year” to the Panthers’ fans as they walked to their cars and disappeared into the night.
Eric finally emerged from the field house, surrounded by most of his players and the other coaches. He bypassed the thinning crowd and walked directly over to his family, where Tami and Julie took turns giving him wordless, consoling hugs.
“Let’s go home,” he said gruffly, letting go of his wife to head over to the driver’s side.
Julie glanced around at the players, not seeing Tim anywhere. Matt and Smash had come out with her father, and the last few seemed to be exiting the field house.
“Mom, Dad,” she said, turning back to them. “Is it okay if I wait for Tim?”
Her parents looked at her, hesitating, before glancing at one another for some silent parental consultation.
“Sure, honey,” Tami replied, clearing her throat. “How are you gonna get home, though?”
“I can get a ride with Tim,” Julie said.
“Okay, well, curfew’s still 11:30, and if you do need a ride, make sure you call.”
“Thanks, mom,” Julie smiled, giving her mother a quick hug. “You too, dad.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Eric replied tiredly, although his eyes betrayed his affection. “You make sure my fullback doesn’t try to jump off any bridges, all right?”
“Honey,” Tami warned, frowning.
“What?” Eric complained, going around the other side of the truck and climbing in.
Julie smiled and waved as they pulled away before finding a spot along the fence to stand and wait for Tim.
Finally he emerged from the field house, and Julie figured he must be dead last. His sheepskin jacket was unzipped, and he was frowning down at the ground as he walked. He happened to look up, and his eyes landed on her. Not smiling or speaking, he walked over slowly, visibly dragging his feet. Julie did her best to repress the fond smile that quirked at his hunched shoulders.
“Hey,” she said softly, when he stopped in front of her. “I’m really sorry.”
He shrugged, looking down at the ground and shifting his duffel bag uncomfortably on his shoulders. Julie observed him for a moment before speaking again.
“Listen, um, I don’t know if you wanna go hang out with the team or Billy or just be alone, but if you want, we could -"
Tim nodded his head before she could finish, and began walking towards his truck. Wordlessly, Julie fell into step beside him. She let the silence hang heavily between them across the parking lot and into the truck, and out past the town limits as Tim drove them to the cliffs.
When they arrived, however, Tim didn’t retrieve his clubs or his empties from the bed, instead flipping the tailgate down and hopping up to sit, glumly dangling his feet. Julie hopped up and sat next to him, zipping her coat up tightly against the cool, early winter night around them.
Neither of them spoke for a long time, Tim lost in his thoughts and Julie content merely to take in the stars as they began to emerge in the sky overhead.
“Always feel like it’s my fault,” Tim finally said, his voice a low, barely audible mumble. “Like I shoulda done something, or not done something. If I’d known the plays better or watched closer or did my job right, we’d be headed to the semis.”
Julie stayed quiet for a minute, taking this in and waiting for him to finish. “Can I say something?”
Glancing at her, he nodded.
“I’ve watched a lot of football in my life, and I can say with complete certainty that there’s nothing you could have done tonight that would have changed what happened. You can’t be everywhere at once, Tim.”
“I know,” he said, exhaling loudly. “It’s just... I always feel like, if something bad happens, it’s ‘cause I screwed something up.”
Julie paused again, thinking about his words. She took a deep breath, wanting to choose her own carefully.
“Tim?”
“Yeah?”
“You know that things other people do, and things that happen randomly... You know that’s not your fault, right? That it’s not because of you?”
Tim didn’t reply, just continued to stare into the distance.
“You know what I mean?” Julie continued, uncertain of herself. “I mean, you know, you haven’t done anything to deserve this. It was out of your hands. This didn’t happen because of you.”
Tim frowned out at the quarry, looking uncomfortable.
“Sorry,” she said softly. “I’m sorry if that’s over the line.”
“How come you’re always so nice to me?” he asked.
Julie smiled, bemused. “Uh, I didn’t think I was all that nice. I give you a hard time a lot, actually.”
“Not really,” Tim replied. “I’ve never been with someone as nice as you before.”
“Thanks,” Julie said, blushing and looking down. When she glanced back up, Tim was watching her closely, his expression guarded and intense. Julie shivered.
“Jules?” he asked, his breath brushing her lips, his face was so close.
“Yeah,” she replied, as though he had asked a real question. Tim leaned in, and Julie met his lips halfway, before he could get all the way to her.
They sat there frozen for several beats before Julie tentatively placed her hands on his shoulders. With a sudden, harsh sigh, Tim ran his hands up her back and buried them in her hair, cradling her head and kissing her urgently.
Julie scooted closer to him, eventually throwing her leg over to straddle his lap, pressing herself against him and running her hands through his hair.
Tim groaned and shifted his weight back, breaking contact with her lips only to kiss his way down her neck, nudging her jacket aside.
"Whoa," Julie exhaled, laughing when she felt Tim smile against her neck. He pulled back to look at her.
"Something funny?" he asked.
"No, I just, um," she stammered, suddenly feeling incredibly shy. "I just... I like you."
"I like you, too," he said, his face serious.
"No, I know, I mean I think I like you, you know?"
"I know," he replied. "Me too."
"Really?"
"Well, yeah."
"Why?"
"Why? I said you were a catch, didn't I?" he said, smiling. "What did you think I meant?"
"Oh, well, I thought you just meant, like, in general, you know?"
"I did, but I also meant, you know, for me..." he trailed off, frowning at her. "I'm not real good at talking about this kinda stuff."
"It's okay," Julie said. “Just try.”
Tim stared up at her, and Julie felt pulled in by his expressive eyes.
“I, uh,” Tim began gruffly, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry about last weekend. I know I was outta line when I kissed you and everything, and I figured that’s why you were mad at me this week, but I didn’t want... I didn’t know what to say to you.”
“You remember?” Julie gasped, sitting back a little to look at him.
“Yeah,” he replied, not meeting her eyes. “It came back later, and then I just didn’t know how to, you know, talk about it. I’m a jackass.”
“Ugh,” Julie groaned, smacking his chest. “I was so mad at you! You finally kiss me, and then the next time I see you, you don’t even remember it? I could have strangled you. You are a jackass.”
“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely, his eyes crinkling as he smiled up at her.
“Yeah, you seem so contrite,” Julie replied, rolling her eyes. “I thought... I don’t know. I thought I was forgettable, or something. It hurt my feelings.”
The mirth disappeared from Tim’s face and he hugged her closer. “You’re not forgettable, Jules. You’re anything but forgettable.”
Julie observed his lowered head for a moment before sighing, and tugging his hair gently. He looked up. “I guess I forgive you. This time.”
Julie leaned forward, pushing until Tim got the message and reclined back onto the old carpet and the pile of tarps covering the bed of his truck. Pressing a quick kiss to his cheekbone, Julie rolled to the side and curled up against him, leaving a leg slung over his.
"Is this okay with you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
There was a pause, and then Tim's arm came up around her shoulders, holding her close. The other came up and rested on her thigh. Julie shivered.
"Yeah," Tim replied, pressing a kiss against her head. "It's okay with me."
Chapter 9