&you got me up against the fender...
She doesn't even know what this thing is for; Tim just told her to dress up, there was this thing, this Panthers thing, and, honestly, Tyra's pretty fucking awful at saying no to Tim when he gives her that particular look while he's still lying bare-assed naked in an unmade bed. It's got something to do with the way his eyes flick down and his mouth twitches. He's fucking beautiful. What's she supposed to say?
She's gotta say, she sort of loves this dress. It's black, and it clings and it drapes, and her bra pushes her tits up and together and she figures, if she's gonna be Tim Riggins' girlfriend, and if the rally girls are going to hate her anyway, she might as well look the part. As they're about to walk in, she drags Tim against her by his hand, and straightens his tie.
"Hey, Tim?" she says, with the corner of her mouth lifting in a smirk. "Guess what..."
She's gotta say, she sort of loves this dress. It's black, and it clings and it drapes, and her bra pushes her tits up and together and she figures, if she's gonna be Tim Riggins' girlfriend, and if the rally girls are going to hate her anyway, she might as well look the part. As they're about to walk in, she drags Tim against her by his hand, and straightens his tie.
"Hey, Tim?" she says, with the corner of her mouth lifting in a smirk. "Guess what..."