-1The Night Will Go As Follows
Would you like to go inside and forget the world and rules by which we are to abide?
Matt shows up again the next day and Tyra has to admire his loyalty. They don't even know each other, not really, but visiting hours fall at the same time as football practice and here he is anyway, Coach Taylor be damned.
"How're you feeling?" he asks, and it would be a sweet question if she hadn't already heard it from a dozen different doctors and nurses today. Maybe Matt senses her annoyance, because he hurries to add, "You look much better. More like yourself."
She wants to laugh out loud at that, but holds it in because he's trying to be sweet. It's just ... she doesn't even know who she is, so how can this gentle, misguided boy claim to recognize her? All he knows is what everyone else in Dillon knows: she's blonde, and a bitch, and an easy lay if you catch her in the right mood. Add it all up and it doesn't amount to much.
"I brought you something," he announces in an attempt to smooth over the awkward silence.
From behind his back he produces what appears to be a lump of gift-wrap ensnared in Scotch tape. Tyra can't help but laugh then. "Gift shop doesn't offer their wrapping services, huh?"
He grins sheepishly. "Not if you don't buy the gift there, no."
"You didn't ... buy it there?" She is suddenly more awake than she's been all week. This means that he prepared for visiting her. This means that he thought of her. This means ... nothing. It can't mean anything. Still, she's curious. "Can I open it?"
"It's kind of dumb," he cautions, handing it over. He steps back while she tears into the paper and smiles at how child-like she looks, hair messy and eyes bright. "I mean, I wanted to buy something, but I couldn't really find anything that fit. I had this at home, and I just thought - I thought you might like it."
He stops then, because he's rambling and she's not saying a word, and neither of those are good things. "It's dumb," he says again, wishing the floor could open up and swallow him whole.
"No." Tyra shakes her head, her eyes still fixed on the scruffy teddy bear. It's brown fur is dingy and matted down, one button eye missing, but she's staring at it like it's made of solid gold. "It's not dumb. It's perfect, Matt. He's yours?"
"From when I was really little," he's quick to explain. The tips of his ears are bright pink. "I just thought you might get lonely in here and, I don't know, that you'd like the company."
"You're a good person, Matt." She hesitates, then forges on. "And I know, before this whole car accident thing, I let you believe that I was ... interested. But, just to be fair, I should tell you, I'm not - I'm not looking for anything. Like that. With you," she finishes lamely.
He looks astonished for half a second, then his face just goes blank. "Oh, you think I'm - I'm not - the bear isn't - wow." He chuckles awkwardly. "I was just being nice, Tyra. The bear, it's a get-well gift. It's not, like, I'm not trying to make it a thing."
"Oh." Now she's the one to flush deep red. "Of course not. I just, I wanted to be sure. I didn't want to - I mean, you're such a good guy. You're gonna make some girl very lucky. I just, I'm not, I can't be .. that girl."
"Right." Matt nods, rocks back on his heels. "Right, of course. And I'm not, you know, I'm not really looking for anything myself right now. I just thought, you know, you're hurt, and you're stuck here for awhile, so you should have something to hold onto."
"The bear." She's still clutching it like a lifeline. "Right. And I appreciate it. I love it, in fact. Best present ever. Thank you."
"Oh, no problem." He's backing up now, anxious to get out of her eyesight so he can die of shame in peace. "I should probably head out, you know, but I'll, uh, I'll visit you again soon, okay?"
"Sure." Her voice sounds strange to her own ears, like she's mimicking someone she's never actually heard. "See you."
He disappears and Tyra sighs, lets her head fall back against the pillow. She brings the bear up to sit on her chest so she can stare it straight in its one eye. "Well, sir," she tells him, sorry she didn't ask Matt if he'd ever named it. "Looks like it's just you and me."
XXX
Matt rounds the corner and comes to a stop, bracing his arms on the wall in the middle of the empty corridor. Then, slowly and deliberately, he begins to beat his forehead against the cool tile.
"Saracen?" The voice is vaguely familiar, but Matt is too embarrassed to look up. He simply freezes mid-hit and closes his eyes. "Saracen, is that you?"
"Yeah," he finally asserts, straightening his spine and turning around. "It's - oh, my God, Jason. Jason Street. How are you? What're you - what're you doing here, man?"
"Don't you think I should be asking you that?" the former football star returns, nodding to the wall Matt had been trying to knock himself out with. "What's the deal, Saracen? Coach Taylor didn't drive you crazy yet, did he?"
"No, not at all." He laughs nervously. Of course his football idol would find him banging his head against the wall like an idiot. "I just ... I was visiting Tyra. Tyra Collette. She, uh, she was in a car accident a few days ago."
"I heard." So had all of Dillon for that matter, but neither of them said so. "I'm actually here for some tests, so I was just about to stop by and see how she's doing."
"Good luck," Matt mumbles.
Jason pauses and tilts his head to the side. "She's in a bad mood?"
"She didn't seem to want visitors," he says, as diplomatically as he knows how. "In fact, she doesn't want anything."
Jason nods like he understands - which, considering the fact that he's a high school athlete now confined to a wheelchair, maybe he does. "You know," he says conversationally, "When I first had my accident, I pushed everyone away. My parents, Lyla, even Riggins once he finally got the guts to visit. It's not like they did something wrong, it's just that I couldn't stand to look at them and see the pity in their eyes."
"I don't pity Tyra," Matt protests.
"What I'm saying is," Jason continues, ignoring him. "Tyra's a proud girl. She's used to taking care of herself. And she's used to people seeing her in a certain light. So maybe it's not your pity she's scared of. Maybe she's scared of how you do see her."
Matt's silent for a long moment, contemplating this idea. It makes sense - Tyra seems to have it in her head that that she's the big bad wolf and he's a quivering little lamb. And maybe she makes him feel like that sometimes, but it's not really the case. He has a father who is a professional killer, no mother to speak of, and a grandmother who is slowly losing her sanity. He knows all about imperfections.
"Maybe you're right, Street," he realizes, clapping his teammate on the shoulder. "Hey, do you mind if I go in there first? I forgot to tell her something kind of important."
Jason smiles and nods. "Go right ahead. Oh, and hey." Matt pauses, already halfway down the hall. "You're a pretty decent QB, Saracen. I'm glad to pass the torch to a guy like you."
Matt hesitates, then grins. "Seriously? Thanks, man. Thanks a lot."
XXX
Tyra is just about to drift off to sleep, comforted by the scratchy fur of her new toy resting against her cheek, when her door swings open. She springs upright with a gasp and then relaxes. "Matt, what're you doing back here?"
"I just came to tell you something," he says, and there's this note of self-importance in his tone that she hasn't heard before. He strides straight to her bed and then adds meekly, "It's important."
She waits, but he's fallen silent. "Okay," she prompts. "What is it?"
"I'm not too good for you, Tyra." It's out there now, and he can't take it back, so he forges on blindly. "I know you have all these messed-up ideas about what you deserve, but I don't believe any of it. I think you're a good person with a - with a kind heart and you don't give yourself enough credit, because you deserve great things, Tyra, you really do.
"And I'm not just saying this because I want to get in your pants, or whatever else you might think," he continues, bolder now, more confident. "'Cause, yeah, you're beautiful and normally I'd give my right arm to talk to a girl like you, but I don't think that's what you need right now. I think you need a friend and I'm a really, really good friend."
Tyra stares at him for a long time and he's just starting to get nervous when the corner of her mouth lifts. "Okay."
"Okay?" He blows out a breath, feels the tension seep out of his shoulders. "Okay, then. I'm gonna - I'm gonna leave, but I'll be back tomorrow. Okay?"
"Okay," she says again, her smile wider now. "Hey, Matt? One thing. Does this bear have a name?"
He looks at his feet. "It's Reginald," he mutters, and flees the room.