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I would like to thank you for showing me

A part of myself I had never seen

Tyra had set her mind on forgetting all about the accident and Tim and every other stupid decision she's made in her lifetime, so when the police had visited her in the hospital, she'd told them she wasn't pressing charges. She's been considering it her parting gift to Tim, so when Matt drops her off that night, she's surprised to see her old boyfriend hunched on the steps.

"Is that ...?" Matt trails off, because it definitely is, and he wants to see Tyra's reaction.

She doesn't put on much of a show; just squares her shoulders and says, "Yep."

"What does he - what do you think he wants?" He squints at Riggins' slumped form, caught in the glare of his headlights. "You think he's drunk?"

"Nope," she says grimly. "He wants what he always wants after he screws up. Forgiveness."

Matt looks from his teammate to Tyra, unsure of what to do. "You want me to stay?"

She considers. She doesn't want to send him away, afraid of how that might be taken, but she'd rather handle this privately. She and Tim are pretty good at tearing each other apart. Right now, Matt still looks at her like she's human, but that could change if Tim decides to go for the jugular.

"It's probably better if you go," she says apologetically, twisting her hands in her lap. "I can handle this."

He nods, then grabs her wrist as she moves to leave. "Tyra. Call me if you need anything."

"I will," she promises, giving him a small smile before shutting the door. She waits until his taillights have faded before turning to face the music. "Tim. What can I do for you?"

"Tyra." He stands, shoves his hands in his pockets. She takes note of the new scar running across his forehead; thinks ironically of how it will only increase his appeal. Girls will think it's mysterious and sexy - a deadly combination, she knows from experience. "You and Saracen, huh? I heard you two were hanging out."

"We're not - hanging out," she bristles, then falls quiet because she has no idea what they're doing. "Not that it's any of your business. What do you want?"

"I just ... I wanted to say I'm sorry." He glances at the ground, a lock of hair falling to cover his eyes. "For that night. For everything, really, but especially for that night. I was drunk and I ... I shouldn't have been driving. It was stupid."

"It was." She wishes she could leave it at that, but her conscience - and since when has that been an issue? - nags at her to continue. "But it wasn't all your fault. I knew you'd been drinking. I could've chosen not to go with you."

He nods to his feet. "Why did you? Come with me?"

It's a question she's asked herself a thousand times since waking up with a tube down her throat and an IV in her arm. And still, "I don't know," she admits. She sighs and, uncrossing her arms, takes a step towards him. "I guess I wanted to think we could fix things."

Tim lifts his head at that. "Do you think we can?"

"Excuse me?" She gapes at him, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly. "You ... what?"

"I just ..." He shrugs, looks away again. "I've had a lot of time to think these past few weeks and I guess I realized ... how alike you and I are. And we've been through a lot together. I think we could still have a chance. You know, if you ... if you wanted."

Tyra shakes her head in disbelief. "Tim, our relationship, it was - it was literally a car wreck. You were a mess, I was a mess - that's what we had in common. We can't ... be together like that anymore."

"Why not?" he presses, coming closer. "Why can't we?"

She backs up and surprises them both with, "Because I don't want to."

Tim freezes. "Oh. Oh, right. Okay, then." He nods. "I should ... I should go."

"That's probably a good idea," she says, stepping carefully around him to get to her front door. "Tim ... I forgive you, you know. For the accident. Like I said, it wasn't all your fault."

"Yeah." He's still nodding and avoiding her gaze. "Thanks. I guess I'll, uh, see you around."

"See you," she echoes.

Watching him leave, she thinks about how strange it is to have him walking away from her and to know that it's the right thing. Sending Tim home could be the smartest move she's ever made. Thinking that, she pulls her cell phone out of her bag and punches in a number.

"Hey," she says when the familiar voice greets her. "Can you come pick me up? We have to talk."

XXX

Matt drives away from Tyra's house, but doesn't go much farther than that. It's not like he thinks Tim has some psycho-killer violent streak; he's more concerned with how much Tyra can take before it's too much.

When his phone rings, he's parked a few streets down, waiting. He knows without looking that it's Tyra, knows somehow that she will ask him to come back. He has the ignition started before he answers.

"I'll be right there," he tells her, and keeps his word. When he pulls back into the drive, he's quick to note that Tim is nowhere to be found and Tyra's eyes are dry.

She doesn't give him the chance to get out of the car, just pulls open the passenger door and jumps in. "Can we go somewhere?"

He steers them back toward the school parking lot, because she was peaceful there this afternoon and he wants to make her feel like that again. Once there, he kills the engine and looks over at her. "So -"

Tyra interrupts. "You remember when I kissed you? Here, after the game?"

"Yeah, of - of course." How could he forget? The memory is burned into his brain; the feel of her pressing up against him, her mouth on his. He falls asleep and wakes up to those sensations. "W - why?"

"I just ..." She breaks off, sighs. "I didn't do it 'cause I liked you or I thought you were sweet or anything like that."

Matt's not really sure how to respond to that, so he doesn't say anything at all.

"I did it because I wanted ... I just wanted to see how you'd react." She glances at him, then quickly looks away again. "You're so quiet all the time, so steady. Even after having your whole world turned upside down, having all this pressure put on you, you were so damn calm. I just wanted to see what it would take to push you off balance."

"I ... okay," he says, and his voice sounds strangled to his own ears. "I get it."

"No, that's not - I'm not telling you this to make you feel bad. I'm sayin' it because ..." Tyra takes a deep breath, lets it out nice and slow. "'Cause now, things are different. I do like you and I do think you're sweet - and polite, and kind, and a whole mess of other things I really have no experience with."

Her laugh is hard and mirthless and it breaks his heart. "Come on, Tyra -"

"Stop right there." She points a finger at him, digs it into his chest. "I'm not sayin' this so you'll try and make me feel better. I just want you to understand that this time is gonna be different."

"This time?" He's been listening carefully, but he still feels like he's missed something. "What do you mean, this -"

And suddenly she's on him, sliding across the seat and clambering over the gearshift, grabbing his face in her hands. He's taken aback, but as soon as her lips touch his, his body hums into action.

She was right, it does feel different than their first kiss. Before, there was a burst of electricity that left him almost numb, but now after the sizzle fades there's a nice warm feeling in the pit of his stomach; a feeling like coming home after a particularly grueling practice. Matt closes his eyes and buries his hands in her hair, tugs her onto his lap and sends up a prayer that she'll stay there forever.

It's impossible, of course, and after some time, Tyra pulls back a little bit and rests her forehead on his. "So? You get it?"

He stares at her, marveling at the tiny flecks of gold in her eyes, at the fact that he's close enough to count them. There's a tiny little smile playing at the edges of her lips and he can feel his own tugging upwards in response. "I'm starting to," he murmurs, and this time it's him who closes the distance between them.