![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
French Lessons, Volume 5: Risk.....Chapter 5
Warning: This story takes place after the end of Season 3 and may allude to things that happened during that season. So, if you're very spoiler averse, you probably want to come back another time.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything here and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Mid-November
Julie was driving home from the library, singing along with the radio, in very good spirits. Her parents and Gracie were gone for the weekend, visiting some second-cousin or someone in Plano. She'd used the excuse of a term paper to escape the trip, then secretly finished the paper early, so she had an empty house and nothing to do for an entire blissful weekend.
She'd just run out to the library to pick up some entertainment: the BBC's Pride and Prejudice mini-series and Henry Miller's The Tropic of Cancer. The last time Julie had tried to read the book, her mother had confiscated it. She knew that spending a parent-free weekend reading a book, even a famously smutty book, qualified her as a major league dork, but she didn't care.
She hadn't felt much like going out or partying lately. She hadn't even felt like putting any effort into her appearance, since her chances of seeing anyone she knew at the library were low. She was wearing her favorite comfort clothes: a green pair of yoga pants and her softest cotton t-shirt, which happened to be canary yellow.
The sound from the radio started to waver and Julie looked down at the dashboard, where she saw the battery light was flickering again. She gave the dashboard a good thump, which had seemed to work the last couple of times she did it. The car had been acting strange for about two weeks, but not in any predictable manner. It was sluggish at times or the windshield wipers seemed to be out of synch. The battery light flickered and once, the check engine light came on. She knew she should get it looked at, but she didn't want to be without a car. So she kept putting it off, telling herself it was mostly her imagination.
The radio cut out entirely and she looked down at the dashboard. The battery light was blazing a stern warning and she felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. Then the engine cut out and she was just coasting.
She looked over her shoulder and manoeuvred the car over to the curb. After a big sigh and a fervent wish that the car was fine, she turned the key in the ignition. Nothing happened. She couldn't coax even the faintest half-splutter out of it. She fumbled around until she found the hood release and pulled it, then got out of the car.
It took her a few minutes to open the hood. She knew her dad had showed her how it was done. But she hadn't really been paying attention at the time. She wanted to drive the car, after all. She had absolutely no interest in fixing or maintaining it or even knowing at all how it worked. It could have been magic, for all she cared, as long as it was able to get her from Point A to Point B.
Julie's fingers finally stumbled on the latch that released the hood and she lifted it up. It took another few seconds to find the metal rod that would prop the hood open. Then Julie put her hands on her hips and looked at the engine like she was expecting to see a “Fix Me” sign on the broken part. She wasn't sure what she was thinking, opening the hood, except that it was what people seemed to do when their cars broke down.
She opened the passenger door and took out her phone out of her purse. Leaning against the side of the car, she thumbed through her contacts list. Since she was only a two-minute walk from his house, Tim was the most obvious choice, but she didn't want to bother him. She was painfully aware that she called on him for a rescue the last time she was in trouble and she didn't want to abuse his good nature. Matt was out of the question. Landry wasn't talking to her. Lois and all of her girlfriends had car IQs that matched her own.
Julie was trying to figure out how to find the number for a tow truck when one pulled up next to her. At first, she felt like her prayers had been answered. She watched the guy climb out of the truck and walk toward her, hitching his pants up. With his scruffy beard, scraggly ponytail and worn leather jacket, he looked like a reject from the Hell's Angels.
“Hi there, darlin', looks like you could use some help,” said the guy, stepping up and standing a little too close to her. She took a step back and could see that he definitely wasn't looking her in the eye.
“Oh, no, that's okay. I've already called someone and they're on their way, so I'm fine. Thanks anyway,” she said with a fake smile. She gave him a big wave, hoping he'd get the hint and leave.
But either he wasn't that smart or she wasn't that lucky. “Well then, how do you know that the someone isn't me?”
“My boyfriend....he's a mechanic so he's going to take care of it. In fact, he just lives right around the corner from here, so, you know I can just walk over there,” she said, scurrying forward to close the hood. She collected her book and DVD set from the car and set off towards Tim's apartment.
She'd hoped that would be the end of it, but the guy just turned his truck around and pulled up to the curb next to her, talking to her as she walked.
“He's a mechanic, huh? In Dillon? I bet I know him. Gary? Russ? Or maybe it's Carl?”
Julie ignored him and kept walking.
“Or maybe,” he said with a predatory grin, “you don't have a boyfriend at all.”
Julie hoped that she didn't look as nervous as she felt. “It's Tim, actually.”
“Tim Riggins? Well why didn't you say so sooner, darlin? Me and Riggs, we're old friends. We go way back. He used to live with a friend of mine. I'm sure he'd want his old buddy to look after his gal. Why don't you get in the truck and I'll give you a lift to his place?”
“That's fine. I'm nearly there,” said Julie as she lengthened her stride and picked up her pace as much as she could without breaking into a run. She tried to remember the self-defense lecture they had in gym class a few years ago, but all she could remember was Tyra rolling her eyes and muttering “Please. Just kick him in the balls and run like hell.”
Julie turned the corner and looked at Tim's place, practically willing him to be there. She was relieved when she saw his truck in the driveway and the garage door open. She abandoned all pretense of coolness and sprinted across the lawns to reach his place before the truck did.
Tim sauntered out of the garage just as Julie reached the edge of his yard.
“Taylor?” he asked, surprised but pleased.
She quickly covered the space between them and practically tackled him.
“Whoa, Taylor, not like I'm not happy to see you but what the hell is going on?”
Julie talked as fast as she could, the words spilling out of her mouth in one hyper run-on sentence. “I'll explain later car broke down creepy guy tried to help I told him you're my boyfriend please just make him go away.”
Tim looked over the top of her head. Julie stepped back from him and watched him recognize the tow truck driver.
“Petey,” he said softly. “Shit. Yeah, I know him.”
Tim raised his hand in greeting, but his eyes were hard. “Stay here, Taylor. I'll take care of it.”
Julie stepped back and watched him walk down to the street, where the truck was idling. They had a brief conversation that Julie couldn't hear over the truck engine, and then Tim walked back, relief evident on his face.
“You okay?” he asked.
Julie nodded.
“Want to tell me what's going on?”
Julie explained to him about her parents being out of town, the car breaking down, the guy pulling up and making her uncomfortable, and then her decision to come to his place.
“You shoulda just called me as soon as the car quit on you,” said Tim, raking his hand through his hair.
Julie fidgeted and looked down. “Yeah, well, I did that the last time I was in trouble. I didn't want to be one of those friends you only hear from when they need something.”
She wasn't sure why they hadn't talked or seen each other since the night he'd picked her up from the gas station on Route 5. She's thought about calling him several times, but something had always held her back.
Tim shook his head. “Nay, Taylor, I know it's not like that.”
“Well, I'm sorry for the drama,” she said.
“No worries, you got good instincts.”
Julie smiled and looked around, noticing her surroundings for the first time. Tim had spread newspaper on the ground and was in the process of staining a small end table. It had a sort of triangular top, but with rounded lines, three curvy legs, and a triangular base. He was staining it a deep mahogany, which looked especially good in the late autumn sunlight.
“Did you make that?” she asked, gesturing at the table.
“Yeah, it's my final project for that class I'm taking.”
“It's art nouveau, isn't it?” she asked, wanting to run her fingers along the rounded edges.
Tim shrugged. “I don't know. I just looked through a bunch of books in the school library until I saw a picture I liked.”
“Tim, it's beautiful,” she said, feeling like that didn't even begin to describe the table's delicate, deliberate grace.
“Thanks,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and looking down, a curtain of hair nearly hiding his small, proud smile.
“So, uh, I don't want to interrupt you or anything,” said Julie.
“You're fine. You want me to give you a ride home?” asked Tim. “Or, you could hang out here for as long as you want. It's up to you, really.”
“Well,” she said, looking up at him through her bangs, “I was kind of hoping we could maybe play some Rock Band.”
“Were you? I think that can be arranged. Are you in a hurry? Got a hot date for tonight or anything?”
Julie smiled and shook her head.
“Good. You mind if I finish this up first? I need to get one more coat applied and I was hoping to have it done before sunset.”
“That's fine. I can hang out, whereever. I won't bother you – I got a book to read,” she said, holding it up.
Tim plucked it out of her hands. “Tropic of Cancer. Henry Miller.....That's not the Henry from Henry and June, is it?”
“It is,” said Julie.
“I don't know, then, Taylor. Maybe I should read the book first and make sure it's appropriate for you.” He dangled the book just out of her reach.
“You could read it out loud to me,” she said, then wondered where the hell that had come from.
Tim smirked. “No, how about you read it out loud to me while I finish my project?”
“How about if I just talk to you instead?” asked Julie, stepping into the garage and pulling out a lawn chair. She set it down in a sunny spot near the table and then sat down.
Tim dropped the book in her lap. “That sounds like a plan. Why don't you start by telling me more about your car breaking down. Maybe I can figure out what it needs.”
“I don't know. The radio got quiet, the battery light came on and then the engine stopped and I couldn't start it again.”
“Any noises or anything?”
“No. Of course, I did have the radio up pretty loud before that, so I would've missed any noises. But it had been acting like....possessed for at least a week or two.”
“Possessed?” asked Tim as he levered the lid off of a can of wood varnish.
“Yeah. Like the battery light would flicker and the windshield wipers would go all crazy and the headlights would dim and then go bright. Like something out of a horror movie.”
“Two weeks and it never occurred to you to ask me to look at it? Or even tell anyone what was going on with it?”
Julie shrugged. “Sometimes, when I hit the dashboard, it would work fine again. I figured the car was just quirky. Do you know what's wrong with it?”
“Sounds like it needs a new alternator. I can have someone tow it to the garage and I can fix it for you tomorrow, if you need to have it done before your parents get back.” He made the offer without looking up at her, his head bent over his table as he applied another coat of mahogany stain.
“Thanks, I'd really appreciate that,” she said quickly, wanting to say more but not quite trusting her mouth to form the words properly.
Something about watching him work on that amazing table, knowing he'd made it, and having him try to take care of her problem – it was all causing a big, strange jumble of feelings inside of her that she didn't know how to sort out.
“How's Seven,” he asked casually, after several minutes of companionable silence.
“Oh, we broke up.”
“I'm sorry to hear that,” he said.
“No, that's okay,” she replied, waving away his condolence. “It was time. I so didn't want to be one of those couples who keep breaking up and then getting back together again.”
Tim looked up from his work and nodded. “I've been there before. More times than I'd like to admit, to be honest with you.”
“Yeah. You know, I should have broken up with him after the stupid bumper sticker fight, but we lasted another two week. We had to fight about a parking place, his grandmother's Snackwells and the closing time at Seven Senoritas before I realized that we'd become a lost cause.”
“Sometimes it's hard to let go,” said Tim as he stood up. “Let me put this stuff away and rinse out the brush and then I'll be done here.”
“Take your time,” said Julie, opening up her book even though she doubted she'd be able to concentrate on it.
Risk, Chapter 1
Risk, Chapter 2
Risk, Chapter 3
Risk, Chapter 4
Risk, Chapter 6
no subject
Heh heh. Tyra would so say that.
no subject
Heehee! So Freudian.
no subject
I also have to say that the idea of Tim reading Tropic frys things in my brain. The good way.