It was time to pack up the Garrity house. Lyla's mom, sister and brother were moving to Pasadena where her stepdad Kevin had shares in an organic farm.
Lyla would live with her dad for her senior year at Dillon High. Even after all she'd been through there, she wanted to stay.
Much of it was Tim. She'd discovered a side no one else knew – sweet, loving and kind. They'd found contentment together, and the amazing sex certainly didn't hurt.
It wasn't what she'd imagined true love would be. And it was much more profound than she'd expected.
-/-/-/-
Tim was doing his best to avoid being in the same room as Buddy, who didn't like Tim dating his precious princess. So he was in Lyla's room putting her stuff in boxes.
He'd packed up the framed pictures on the wall, and the trinkets that covered her vanity.
He pulled out the photos stuck in the mirror's frame, including many of Jason. Even though Lyla and Jay had split up a while ago, and he had since gotten Erin pregnant, he still held sway in her heart.
One shot showed Jason with Tim, laughing in deck chairs. In another, the three of them huddled close, their arms around one another.
Tim pulled down some shoeboxes from the closet shelf.
The top one was open, marked with a big #6, and held mementos of Street. Photos from the football annual showing him passing, on one knee smiling brightly, being carried off the field on shoulders after a victory. Newspaper clippings about him, a dried boutenniere from the junior prom. Bundles of notes and letters tied in blue ribbon.
The next box, also open, had a big P on the side, and held what Lyla had kept from cheerleading. Even though she'd denounced it and chucked out her uniform, she was still proud of being a part of the tightest squad in west Texas.
Most everything in the box was blue or yellow. Panther jewelry, buttons, pins -- all kinds of flair for her uniform. How do they come up with this crap, Tim laughed. -/-/-/-
The third box was unmarked and taped shut. Tim was just going to put it in the larger moving box when he heard Lyla come in.
"Open it," she said, sliding her hands around his chest, kissing his temple, then his slightly parted lips.
He untaped the box. In it were photos and newspaper clippings of Tim as a Panthers. Lots about the 06 state championship, still so fresh in his memory.
He came to a hinged wooden box that said Texas State Fair. Tim had gone there with Jason and Lyla a few years ago.
They'd had a great time watching rodeo, eating messy food. The boys competed fiercely at ring toss to see who could win Lyla a stuffed bear. Jason did, of course, with his killer aim.
There was a scrap of paper with Tim's old locker combination on it. He'd given it to Lyla so she could leave her stuff in his locker between classes, as hers was much farther away. "Garrity: mi locker es su locker," it said.
Scrawlings from Tim on the back of algebra worksheets. "Tonite, 7, casa de Riggs." "Library after practice," in his blocky handwriting. Lyla giggled some more, making Tim glance at her.
He paused over more scribblings: #33 4ever. LG+TR, in a heart. Mrs. Lyla Riggins, repeated in fancy script.
"What the… what's this?," he murmured, glancing at her.
She dropped her head shyly, laughing.
"Before Jason and I started dating, I had a huge crush on you. Always have. Then Jason asked me out. And he won me a teddy bear." She giggled again.
In the box was an old bandana of Tim's. He'd loaned it to Lyla when she was crying after a fight with Jason.
"I love the way you smell. Like spices, like a boy…" She blushed and buried her face in his neck, inhaling deeply. "Like that." More laughter; a soft, wet kiss. "This bandana smelled like you, so I kept it."
All those years secretly coveting Lyla -- he thought it was one way. He was dumbfounded to find it was mutual.
"But weren't you in love with Jay?"
Lyla hesitated. "I loved you both. He acted first. And it was what everyone expected, including me. I still love him, just like you do."
Tim grinned just thinking about Jay. It was true, everybody loved Street.
"Keep going..." She peered into the box.
He pulled out the last item, a sheet folded in thirds, sealed with a heart sticker. "TIM: FOR YOUR EYES ONLY," it read.
He looked at her sideways and opened it.
"Mr. Timothy Riggins: if you are reading this, you are entitled to one marathon kiss from me, Miss Lyla Garrity. p.s… I love you." August 2004
Lyla shut the door and pulled him onto the bed, drawing him into a slow, deep kiss that lasted longer than any kiss they'd ever had. But still not long enough.
"I finally have what I wanted all along," she whispered.
"Me too, Garrity," he said.
They kissed again like nothing else mattered. At that moment, it didn't.
Note: These characters are not mine.