(Untitled)

[texas_forever]

Unless it has to do with working on his truck or carrying a football from one side of the field to the other, Tim is not cut out for manual labor. So, this business with actually having to help build his own hut is not something he's doing well with. The guys in charge are pretty easy going and they do good work (as far as he can tell anyway),

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[outta_texas]

Tyra is just about going out of her mind with boring. Yeah, sure, she hated Applebees, but it was money in her pocket and somethin' to do, and she misses Julie and she misses her mom and Mindy, and you can only put your makeup on so many times before it starts to get boring...and you're wearing too much makeup anyway.

She's in another dress, still in Panther's colours, but at least the bruises are starting to fade, a little. It's pretty brutal.

"Is it me," she says, leaning against the doorframe, "Or does somethin' in here smell like feet?"

[texas_forever]

Tim finds her voice oddly comforting and a very faint smile curves the side of his mouth as he turns his head just enough to look over at her, otherwise not moving at all.

She's wearing a dress yet again and Tim's trying to remember how many times he actually saw her wear one back in Dillon. Not often that he can remember. For dances and stuff, but this is different.

"Maybe you should put your shoes on then," he tells her, ignoring her clear implication.

[outta_texas]

Tyra wriggles her pair toes and rolls her eyes.

"You look like hell, douchebag," she says, with a sweet smile. "At least you've got somethin' to do. I'm goin' out of my mind with boredom. I nearly read earlier."

Tyra's read books. THere's no need to make a fuss about it.

[texas_forever]

"I tried that once," he replies, his voice gruff as he lets himself look her over. She looks nice in a dress, he thinks. Colors are good on her, too. "Only made me even more bored."

The idea of Tyra reading doesn't surprise him so much. Maybe it should, but it doesn't somehow. She's just been hanging out with that Landry kid too much.

[bookof_lies]

Tracy totally can't help it, but she's sort of staring. Just a little. Totally can't help it. He reminds her of Luke, and yeah, even though that had been such a bad idea, she catches herself after a few moments of staring dumbly from the doorway anyway.

She ducks back out into the hall, fumbling to quickly take down her braided pigtails, letting long blond hair spill over her shoulders. She wishes she had a damn mirror, but she's got enough practice putting on lip gloss blindly. She's in skinny, skinny jeans and her pink gingham bikini top and a sheer over shirt, so at least her clothes are cute today.

"You're an idiot, Tracy," she mumbles to herself, and then strolls casually into the rec room, struggling not to look over at him as she makes her way over to the bookcase- No! Not bookcase. Then he'll think she's a nerd... The jukebox. Yeah, okay... jukebox.

[texas_forever]

He's only dimly aware of the other people in the room because by this point, he's used to at least someone always being around. It's like being at school all the damn time in this place, always someone to get in your business.

After a few minutes, he opens his eyes and they've adjusted now mostly, so he only blinks a few times as he lifts his head. There's a girl by the jukebox and he watches her awhile, trying to see if she can figure out how to make the thing work. Some people can do it, he's noticed, but Tim never can. It only ever plays horrible, depressing country songs for him. Shit his parents used to listen to when he was about five.

"Is it workin'?" he asks a minute or so.

[bookof_lies]

With her back to him, she lets her mouth turn up in a satisfied grin, teeth sinking into glossy lips and her nose wrinkling in barely contained glee.

"Uh... No. I don't think it ever does," she says, totally proud of herself that she sounds so casual when she looks over her shoulder at him, "It only ever plays what it wants to."

Right now it's some boy band from the late nineties. Something she liked forever ago when she was like, nine or whatever.

[texas_forever]

Oh, was that how it worked? Tim had always assumed that some people just had it figured it out or something.

"Huh," he says, looking past her at the machine, like it might give him some clue. It doesn't though, just blasting some horrible pop song or another. Least it's not Patsy Cline.

Still, it's irritating and his brows furrow a little as he slow sits up, his muscles groaning at the movement. "Guess that means you can't make it stop."

[a_sport]

While Tim had been working on his hut, Calvin had spent all afternoon helping to build a barn. Soon as they finished for the day, Calvin went up to take a shower, the hot spray doing wonders for his sore shoulders.

He was scrubbing a towel over his wet hair as he walked through the rec room, paused when he saw Tim.

"You look like you've been through the wringer."

[texas_forever]

Tim's eyes open at the voice, figuring that the words can only be directed at him and he lifts his head. Somehow, he's relieved to see it's Calvin and he actually manages a small smile.

"Feel like it, too," he says and then tries to sit up a little. It takes effort and he groans when his muscles cry out. "No one told me I'd actually have to work around here."

[a_sport]

"What're you doing?" Calvin steadied himself on the bookshelf before pulling his foot up in a stretch, wincing at the way it pulled. He'd got goo at the rhythm of helping with the huts, but the barn with two stories was really throwing him in a big way.

[texas_forever]

"Building," he answers as he leans over, resting his elbows on his knees as he watches Calvin. "No one told me when I asked for a hut that I'd actually have to help build it."

He notices Calvin's wince and gives a nod with his head down at the guy's ankle. "You alright?"

[all_happening]

The record pile was being unusually cooperative, and after grabbing a few things to add to her collection, Penny had selected one of her own albums, Stillwater's third, to listen to. It was in nearly perfect condition still, one she'd clearly treasured, the black vinyl shiny and unmarked as she took it out of the paper sleeve and breathed in the faint familiar scent that accompanied it with a small, wistful smile. She was standing by the record player, having put the large disc in place, the player's arm in her hand as she was slowly lowering it to the record, the careful attention she paid making her unable to notice anyone come in. The sound of someone hitting the couch, though, was enough to startle, and she turned her head; as she did, the needle hit the record with a noise that, to Penny, was deafening. "Goddamnit!" she shouted, turning quickly back to her beloved record to find a long scratch down the middle of it. Her mouth fell open, in a look both angry and crushed, and she put an arm out to rest her head in her hand. "Oh,

[texas_forever]

To Tim's ears, the screetch isn't that loud, but it's still abrupt enough to startle him and his eyes open immediately, his head turning to find the source.

"You okay?" he asks when his eyes settle on the girl by the record player.

[all_happening]

Now cradling her scratched record in one arm, Penny turned around and sighed deeply as she leaned against the wall. "Yeah," she said, not very enthusiastic about it, even though she was shaking her head. "I'm fine. Can't say the same about my record, though."

[texas_forever]

He arches an eyebrow when she turns and doesn't really hide the fact that he's checking her out. Just a little.

"Oh," he says finally and nods like he really understands her pain. He doesn't, though. Not really. "Can you, like, put something on it?"

[jack_crew]

Jack knows that Tim's getting himself a hut built, but he's not on the team, so he hasn't been helping out and he actually doesn't even have any idea where the hut's going to be. But he does know about it, so he figures that means Tim's settling in okay.

"Hey," he says when he comes into the rec room and sees him sprawled on the couch. He looks like Jack did his first couple of days on the crew, so he figures the team has roped him into helping out. "You smell kinda funny."

[texas_forever]

Tim's eyes open at the voice and he turns his head to the side, just enough to make sure that the words are actually being directed at him.

He recognizes Jack from his first day on the Island and gives a slow smile, along with a quiet sort of laugh. "Yeah," he says, lifting one weary arm off the back of the couch. "That would be good ol' blood, sweat and tears, man."

[jack_crew]

"They're making you work, huh?" Jack asks, sliding down onto the couch across from Tim and giving a soft sigh. He's spent all day working on the barn and his muscles are aching and sore. Actually, if he thinks about it, he probably sort of smells funny, too.

[texas_forever]

"Yep," Tim answers, shifting a little to make room for Tim, his muscles groaning. "Didn't realize that was in the deal, but hey. Guess I gotta do it."

He notices that Jack looks a little worn and his head tilts a little. "What about you? What you been up to, man?"