**Note: This is a shorter chapter (sorry), but I should be putting another one up this weekend. Thanks to anyone reading this. It feels good to write something after so long, and with FNL in my head—and Riggins in particular—I just want some form of the show to keep going. So, without further ado, here's the next chapter.

Chapter 3

The clearing wasn't much to look at in the evening. The grass was nothing but a black mass, the surrounding trees sat like statues on the edge, guarding the entrance to deeper woods and further darkness.

The ground was no doubt littered with beer cans and old cigarettes, but Tim didn't seem to mind. He'd talked about the place as if it were a little piece of heaven, a sanctuary from all the chaos back in town. But tonight, it wasn't about the isolation. It was about the open night sky, untainted by the traffic lights, and stadium lights, and dealership lights, and brake lights from the all the cars exiting the school parking lot. It was pure, uninterrupted darkness, and it blanketed the sky with a splatter of stars, most of which had already died, but were so far away, they'd yet to fade out.

"Wanna beer?" he asked, laying out an old blanket in the bed of his pickup.

"You keep beer in your car?"

Tim smirked. "Always be prepared."

But Hannah wasn't smiling back. "I'm not so sure how I feel about you drinking and driving."

He laughed at that, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, you really don't know me very well if you think one beer is gonna affect my driving."

Hannah frowned. "You're right, I guess I don't."

Tim tugged on the lip of the can, and it opened with a pop. As he took a swig, he closed his eyes briefly. Hannah stared at him intently after he smacked his lips and wiped away the dribble on his chin.

"Listen, if you don't want yours, I'll be happy to drink it for ya."

Hannah gave a humorless laugh. "I don't think so."

And then she debated. Should she drink it, or would that only encourage him? She'd never had alcohol before, and somehow, doing it in the middle of nowhere with a borderline alcoholic didn't feel encouraging. But it was only one, and if he was telling the truth, one wouldn't hinder his ability to drive.

"Maybe I'll have a little," she replied. After all, no one was forcing her to finish it.

They both climbed on to the bed of the truck and pressed their backs against the back window. Tim crossed his ankles and put an arm behind his head as a pillow. Hannah remained a little more reserved, hugging her knees to her chest. She stared up at the night sky and watched the stars twinkle. It was a full moon that night, but a few clouds hid part of it from view.

"So what d'ya think?" Tim asked, taking another swig.

Hannah sighed deeply. "It's so peaceful out here. So quiet. I can hear myself think, for once."

"It's a good place to think. Don't get to do it that often anymore, what with the late practices. I'm usually pooped by the time we're done on the field."

"I'm surprised there aren't more people here. It looks like the kind of place you see in the movies. You know, where all the teenagers go to…get into trouble." She threw a look his way and waggled her eyebrows.

He chuckled. "I suppose it is."

There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment. Then Hannah said quietly, "Have you ever done that here?" But she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to hear the answer.

"Nah. I've been here a few times in the day with some buddies, you know, messin' around, havin' some drinks. Throwin' a football around. But most of the time I'm alone."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well," Hannah gently elbowed him in the arm, "thanks for sharing this place with me, then."

"Sure."

Tim turned to look at Hannah, not realizing that when he did so, they would only be a few inches apart. He blinked slowly a few times, hesitating. Her big brown eyes bore into his, and despite the darkness, they seemed to shine brightly. Maybe if he just leaned in a little bit, even just a fraction of an inch, he wouldn't seem pushy. Maybe if he just—

"So, have you never taken Lyla here?"

Tim lowered his gaze and backed up. He hadn't expected this at all. He thought they were having a moment, that she'd cave. She agreed to go out here with him, after all. So what was all this about?

"I don't know what you mean." He knew it was an obvious lie, but he couldn't help it.

"Oh, come on. I may be new, but I'm not that oblivious."

Tim uncrossed his legs and sat up straighter, visibly uncomfortable. He ran his fingers through his unkempt hair.

"Lyla's just a friend."

Hannah raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? Well, if you want to play it that way, then okay."

"She is. We're not together."

"Anymore, you mean." She regretted it immediately after she said it. Tim seemed upset today, and here she was, rubbing it in. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"Can I ask why you want to know about her?"

"I saw you leave the cafeteria with her. And you looked pretty pissed when you came back. And she wasn't at the game. I thought everyone went to the games."

Tim sighed and shook his head. "We kinda had a thing goin' for a little while. But she doesn't want it anymore. Shouldn't o' happened, anyway."

"Oh."

"But I never took her here." He smiled at Hannah, watching her reaction. "What we had was more of a…physical thing. If you know what I mean."

"Uh, yeah, I think I get it."

"We mostly stayed indoors."

"I got it, Tim. Thank you."

"Probably wouldn't be appropriate if we came out here to—"

"Tim."

"You got it."

"That's correct."

He laughed and she rolled her eyes. He was such a typical high school jock. Only ever cared about one thing. It stung a little, though, because despite everything she still felt the butterflies flutter any time he looked at her. Wow, she thought, and I'm the typical high school girl, fawning over the jock. She felt her face grow hot, embarrassed that she'd fallen into the trap she had always made fun of. She was no different than them.

"So, why are you here? I mean, why'd you move to Dillon? No offense, but you don't look like the type that enjoys rodeos and red meat."

Hannah shrugged. "My dad. I guess he grew up in small town, and thought I should too. Except he missed the fact that I'm passed my prime years of development. Spending my senior year in Texas isn't going to make a difference. I am who I am."

"I see. And what then, you don't think people can change?"

"No. I don't know. I know who I am and what I'm not. It's not like I'll be signing up for any beauty pageants in the near future. And I sure as hell am not going to be a cheerleader for the Panthers. No offense."

"None taken."

"I think my stepmom has had enough, too. She's from the Bay Area. This whole 'closed on Sundays' thing is really getting to her."

"Your stepmom. So," Tim threw his empty beer can out onto the grass, "where's your mom, then?"

Hannah snorted. "That's a good question. Let me know if you have any theories."

Tim furrowed his brow and looked over Hannah for any signs of distress. But she gave nothing away, remaining stoic. Despite everything, their upbringings, his experience and her, well, complete and utter innocence, he suddenly felt that they weren't all that different. Not really. Not when it came to the important things.

"My bet's on aliens. They're probably in their data-collecting phase right now." She smiled at her own joke, but it didn't reach her eyes. In the moonlight Tim could see that they were hard.

"Then my mom must be with her."

Hannah grinned wickedly. "Yes, and they're bonding in some alien prison camp right now."

"Swappin' stories."

"Braiding each other's hair."

"Sounds like a party," Tim said. They laughed and looked back up at the sky, searching for the distant spacecraft that had taken away so much from them.

And then Tim popped open another can of beer.

Hannah eyed the drink, her mouth puckering. "So much for one drink."

Tim winked before chugging it. Hannah looked down, disappointed. What had she expected? She herself believed people couldn't change. Why did she think he would change tonight for her?

"I think I should probably head home." She crawled to the edge of the bed and hopped down.

Tim looked on at her, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Oh. You sure?"

"Yeah. I've got a lot to do tomorrow, so I should probably head to bed."

"All right." He finished the rest of the beer and chucked it to the side. He soon followed suit by hitching off the edge of the truck, his boots hitting the gravel with a thud.

Hannah opened the passenger door and climbed in. She kept her gaze on the scene in front of her, though there wasn't much to see. Tim sat down next to her and looked at her briefly before starting the truck. She continued to look ahead. He couldn't figure out what he'd done wrong, they'd been having such a nice time. And really, one more beer wouldn't have done any damage to him. His body had practically built up an immunity. But Hannah had obviously checked out for the night. There was no use in conversing now.

The ride home was a quiet one, every so often it was interrupted with the sound of car horn or a rock hitting the windshield. The fifteen-minute drive coming to an end, Tim pulled into her driveway and shut off the car.

"I'll see you Monday, then."

"Yep," she replied without looking at him. She tried to open the door, but it was locked.

"Have a good night."

Hannah finally managed to find the button to unlock the door. She slammed it behind her and walked up the path to her front door. Just before disappearing behind the side of her house, she looked back at him. It was hard to see him in the darkness, but he managed to make out her face. And then he noticed she looked…hurt? But why? He didn't get a chance to ask before she turned back around and left him there, bewildered on the driveway.

He groaned and put the truck in reverse. He was suddenly eager to get home, to end this bizarre day. He backed out of the driveway and cranked up the music on his stereo before driving off. He didn't even noticed the mound of dark hair standing by a window, watching as he drove off.