Waking Up! – Chapter 1
Tim Riggins groaned as he awoke. His head was thumping, his mouth was dry and there was something cold and metal pushing into his side. He had yet to open his eyes, not wanting to see whatever there was to regret. He was on his left side and there was something distinctly heavy and warm resting on his arm. Who would it be this time? He cracked open his right eye and saw a mass of blonde hair covering a girl and his arm, a lot of his chest and some of his face. There was a lot of hair and the tickling sensation it was generating around his nose was beginning to bug him enormously. He couldn't tell who it was. He couldn't ever remember speaking to a blonde at Tyra's party, in fact he couldn't remember much of the party at all. One moment he was chucking back beers the next he was here. He pulled his body up enough to look around him and not disturb the girl. He needed to get a hold of his bearings before he made any decisions. He was in the back of his truck and it was still parked outside of the Collette's house. He laid back and groaned. He must have had drunk a truckload of beer for memory loss to occur.
The body sleeping on his arm moved and the mystery of his over night guest was about to be revealed. It really didn't matter who it was. It was another notch on the Riggin's belt, even if he couldn't remember one detail. Yeah, he was good. He was the Girl-Whisperer of Dillon High. They came for him in floods of interest and he could not bear to turn away girls in need. This girl had obviously enjoyed the delights of which he had to offer. His chest puffed out as he regarded his newest conquest, even drunk as he had been he had no fears that she would be fugly. He had standards, not many but fugly was one of them. He would not be chewing his arm off anytime soon for a quick get away.
The body stirred some more and then abruptly shot up, as if realising in a split instant where she was. The hair was still everywhere and he couldn't see her face.
"Good morning sunshine, how about another roll in the ...hey!" The hair had been swept aside and his heart stopped. Julie Taylor. That's it - he was officially dead. Her expression was one of shock, pure, undiluted shock that she had slept with Tim Riggins: Man Whore.
'Ahhhhhhhhhh, you've got to be kidding me?" she announced frantically as her eye rolled around wildly. Her whole body was still though - her rather attractive, partially clothed body. He hadn't moved either. He had slept with the Coach's daughter, the most intimidating man on the face of the Earth. The man who didn't approve of the ideal boyfriend Matt Saracen, he was going to get his balls handed to him on a platter. She didn't look any happier about it than he did. In fact she looked a little disgusted and he quickly tucked away the momentary feeling of offence.
"Oh my god, oh my god," she keep mumbling that under her breath as she searched around the truck bed looking her shirt. She was still wearing her skirt and a bra, showing off a pretty impressive rack. She was on her knees manically looking to and fro talking to herself like a freaking psycho. He looked around as a courtesy and discovered that he was sitting on a particularly red scrap of material, probably her shirt. He lifted up his butt and yanked the material free, holding it out for her to accept.
"Thanks," she mumbled. Quickly shimmying it on as Tim watched through lowered eyelids, concealing his interest. He was only a guy after all. He reached for his boots, tugging them onto his cold feet. He was scrambling to remember anything from the night before, some snippet of information.
Tim kissed Julie with all the intensity he could muster, his need for her overriding any thoughts, he would just feel instead. His hands running down her back, pulling her closer into his body, drifting further down and cupping her ass. She moaned as the kiss deepened, her arms slithering from his chest, separating and moving under both of his arms to his back where they pulled him in tight as well. Their bodies were closely aligned and the noise of the party softened as their attention focused on one another. Her palms were warm upon his back, his muscles contracting at the sensation. She nibbled on the soft flesh of his bottom lip and he felt his knees momentarily weaken.
"Wanna see my truck?" he asked, drawing away from her delectable mouth, expecting a no for this way the infamous Julie Taylor. She smiled saucily in response and he grabbed her hand and let her to his pride and joy.
What in the hell had he been thinking? The realisation of what this one night of obvious wild abandon and little thought could mean the end of his short life. Eric Taylor was going to slaughter him. He looked up the fear still on his face. Julie was looking at him, her expression equally fearful. She climbed down the back of the truck and looked back at him.
"Look um ah Riggins, you ahhh are going to have to um give me a lift home," she punctuated it with a giant gulp that didn't help his current concern for his well being.
"O-kay I guess," he responded. He may be a womaniser but he was still a Texan, he was going to give her a ride. He scrambled down and in the increasing visibility from the sunrise, the orange light cast a golden hue over her. They stood there facing one another frozen by awkwardness and thoughts of the inevitable consequences of their thoughtless and alcohol-fuelled actions would
create. She was inspecting her shoes with a scary intensity and he was looking anywhere but at her. What could he do to make this better, to make this ... go away?
"Look this is ah really um awkward," she stammered, sneaking a look through the strands of golden hair covering her face.
"Ya reckon?" Tim laughed. This really was quite possibly the weirdest situation he had found himself in. He must have had an alright time, he could guarantee despite his drunk-amnesia that she would have. He smiled to himself, a good time was guaranteed. She shot him a dark look.
"If you are going to be an ass about this, that's fine." She announced tersely. "But right now, I need to get home." Her anger had appeared to speak more directly, all nervousness disappearing in an instant. She stormed towards the passenger door of his truck, yanked it open, jumped it and slammed the door closed with a BANG. Yep she was definitely fired up. He hightailed it to the driver's side, jumping in and starting the ignition. He drove for a couple of minutes in silence, refusing to look in her direction. After awhile though he could no longer deal with the silence.
"How did it happen?" he asked. He didn't refer to what he meant but she obviously knew as her head turned to him at a speed that made him concerned about its attachment to her neck.
"It doesn't matter, it happened and now we have to deal. Actually I need to deal...with two scary parents," he nodded, the Taylor's were two scary individuals on their lonesome, together would be a bloodbath.
"So what do we do?" he asked quietly. Her face turned the windshield, ignoring his searching glance. He had a life to protect here, he liked his life and he liked the use of his legs.
"We? Well you are going to go home. I am going to have to talk to my parents. And we are going to agree right here and now that nothing happened. Right?" Her tone scared him a little but he had no problem with her plan.
"Sounds good, I approve,"
She turned to him then, her face one of dripping sarcasm. "I am so glad Tim. Your approval means the world to me."
"You don't have to be a bitch about it," he retorted, immediately regretting it. She was giving him an out here and he was being a dumb ass. She pinned him with a glare that could set a tree alight. He squirmed in his seat trying to forget the glimmer of hurt he had seen in her eyes. She was the one saying to forget about it all. He could do that.
He pulled the truck into her street. He knew the way from the time he had lived there. He had been, albeit temporarily, been a part of her family and now he had done the unthinkable. He looked at her and saw an expression he remembered from that time when he'd been eating with her and Matt had arrived with Carlotta. She was hurt but she was determined not to let him know. He would allow her to think she was fooling him, he'd give her that at least.
"Let me out here," she said quickly, opening the door. They were houses down from her own.
"Are you sure?" he asked. She didn't spare him a glance as she ran to her house, pausing outside for a second before putting the key in the lock and entering. She was quite possible entering the scariest place alive and here he was, sitting in the truck protecting his own balls. Oh well, he turned the truck around and head for home. His bed was calling and he was not one to refuse.
Author's Note – This is a co-authored story by myself and the wonderfully talented ScarlettLetters. We had a blast plotting this baby up and are excited to see your reactions. We appreciate reviews, as words are love people!