![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
muse_shuffle | March Disc One
Mar. 28th, 2009 09:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
texas33foreverTrack 01. I never really gave up on
Breakin' out of this two-star town.
I got the green light,
I got a little fight.
I'm gonna turn this thing around.
[‘Read My Mind’ – The Killers]
Co-written with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
comeswithcuffs
[Follows THIS]
It had definitely been a lazy day, and probably was the start of a lazy week. In fact, if the clock was correct, it was after midday and Taylor was only just managing to shift her ass out of bed without immediately being hit with a wave of vomit-inducing nausea. She sat tentatively on the side of the bed, rubbing her hand over her stomach to analyse how she was feeling now. Still tired and just a little bit sick, but nowhere near as terrible as she had in the early hours of the morning. She was alone in the bed again, but before she had time to even consider that, she spotted a large note on a full sheet of A4 paper taped to the lamp with Jason’s messy print explaining that Sam had just taken him over to his parents’ place so he could pick up some more of his stuff. The note was ended with kisses and a smiley face. Taylor smiled to herself and touched the edge of the note fondly.
But her conversation with Sam a few hours early jumped back into her mind and the smile faded in favour of biting her lip anxiously. She shook her head and shoved it to the back of her brain as she reached for Jason’s bathrobe and pulled it on, wrapped it securely around her stomach. It about reached her feet and smelled liked Jason’s cologne. It was exactly what she needed right now. She didn’t have any intentions of getting out of her pyjamas that day, and in fact highly suspected she would go back to the depths of Jason’s bed before the day was out. She didn’t feel like doing anything but she knew she should at least try to eat something, even if it was just dry toast.
Appearing in the living room, Taylor found Tim sprawled on the sofa flicking half-heartedly through the TV channels and she offered him a small smile as she went over to the adjoining kitchen. “Anythin’ interestin’ on, Riggs?” she asked him, taking the loaf of bread from the bed box.
“Nah,” Tim replied with a shrug and looked over the back of the sofa at her. “Ya’ feelin’ better, Mac? Sam was sayin’ ya’ were feelin’ crap this mornin’. Actually ya’ kinda look like ya’ should still be in bed. Six said he wouldn’t be long.”
Taylor dropped the bread into the toaster and shook her head. “It’s alright, Riggs. I’m okay now. Just need t’try and eat somethin’.” She started to look through a pile of mail on the counter to make sure Jason hadn’t missed anything. He should be starting to hear back from some of his college applications soon. “Hey, Riggs, this mail is all yours. Ya’ haven’t opened any of it.”
“Yeah, Billy brought it ‘round. It’s just junk,” Tim replied and went back to channel surfing.
“How do ya’ know it’s junk?” Taylor asked and started looking at some of the return addresses a little closer. Okay, some of it was junk, some had windows and might be important, but one envelope stood out from the rest and she frowned, holding it up. “Tim, this is from Columbia University. Did you apply to Columbia?”
Tim shrugged again. “I dunno. It’s probably just another recruitment thing. It’s alright, I got loads of ‘em. Not as many as Six when he was bein’ recruited, but still loads.”
Taylor’s toast popped up but she ignored it and came over to sit next to Tim on the sofa, holding the letter out to him. “I thought recruitment season was over,” she said, knowing a little about it from coming from a few generations of high school football players. “Ya’ should just open it t’make sure. Columbia’s nothin’ t’be sneezed at. It’s like an Ivory League school.”
“I don’t wanna go to Columbia. I’m goin’ t’New York with S,” Tim told her, making no move to take the letter. He picked up his can of soda and finished it off in a long gulp.
“Columbia’s in New York,” Taylor told him calmly and waved the envelope. “Can I open it?”
Tim nodded with a smirk. “If ya’ wanna be my personal secretary,” he said in amusement and reached to pick up a bag of chips from the coffee table. He tore the bag open and offered her some.
Taylor turned an interested shade of green and waved the snack out of her face. “Don’t make me vomit on ya’, Riggs,” she warned and neatly opened the envelope. She pulled the letter out and skimmed the contents at first, but her eyes widened and she had to go back and read the text closer. She put her hand over her mouth and sucked in a small breath of disbelief. “Riggs, ya’… my god, they’re offerin’ ya’ a scholarship! Columbia University is offerin’ ya’ a football scholarship.”
“A what?” Tim sat up and took the letter off her with a frown to read it. It only deepened when he absorbed what she had read and he glanced at her. “Who sent ‘em my game tapes? I ain’t been applyin’ to no Ivy League schools, Mac. Mrs Coach didn’t say nothin’ ‘bout that. Why would I wanna go t’some posh school like that?”
Taylor blinked. “Tim! A football scholarship! This school… this very, very good school wants t’pay for ya’ to play college football with ‘em because they’ve seen what ya’ can do on the field and they want ya’. Does it matter who sent the tapes? This is an invitation to a school in New York for ya’ t’do what ya’ love! And t’go t’New York with Sam. If ever there was a time t’not snort and roll ya’ eyes with disinterest at somethin’, this is it.”
Tim was still frowning as his eyes dropped back to the letter. “It doesn’t say I got it, it says I gotta meet with ‘em first. In New York. It ain’t my thing, Mac,” he told her, shaking his head.
Taylor grabbed the letter and shoved it roughly against his chest. “Make it ya’ thing, Riggs. Ya’ make it ya’ thing just like all the rest of us with dreams. Ya’ don’t wait for someone else t’make it for ya’. Ya’ might live on ya’ line of no regrets, but t’do that, ya gotta make no excuses, too. Ya’ just do it,” she all but growled.
Tim looked at her intently. Did she just growl at him? He wrestled the letter back into his hand and nodded. “Alright,” he agreed, not quite convince she wouldn’t smack him roughly around with a sofa cushion if he didn’t. She seemed to be channelling Billy, Mrs Coach and maybe the Hulk all at the same time. He wasn’t quite used to seeing Mac like this. She was usually pretty sweet and calm. “Alright,” he added again for emphasis.
Taylor swallowed and regained her composure. “Good,” she murmured with a distracted nod. She cleared her throat and climbed off the sofa. “I gotta go out. I need t’get somethin’ from the store…” Tim’s offer to Columbia had someone how come as a wake up call with the force of a slap in the forehead. What was the point of procrastinating?
“Y’a alright, Mac?” Tim asked, frowning uncertainly. She was all over the place. “Want me t’go for ya’? We need milk anyway.”
“No!” Mac threw back hastily. “It’s cool. I’ll go. Milk, sure…” She nodded and disappeared out of the room before he could say anything more. Did the pharmacy even sell milk? Jason’s Dad could- Shit! Jason’s Dad owned the Dillon pharmacy. Sam worked in the supermarket. There was no way she was going to buy what she needed in Dillon. No fucking way in the world.
Jason Street [itwontstopme] & Sam Jameson [supermarketsam] referenced with permission
Word Count | 1302
Breakin' out of this two-star town.
I got the green light,
I got a little fight.
I'm gonna turn this thing around.
[‘Read My Mind’ – The Killers]
Co-written with
comeswithcuffs[Follows THIS]
It had definitely been a lazy day, and probably was the start of a lazy week. In fact, if the clock was correct, it was after midday and Taylor was only just managing to shift her ass out of bed without immediately being hit with a wave of vomit-inducing nausea. She sat tentatively on the side of the bed, rubbing her hand over her stomach to analyse how she was feeling now. Still tired and just a little bit sick, but nowhere near as terrible as she had in the early hours of the morning. She was alone in the bed again, but before she had time to even consider that, she spotted a large note on a full sheet of A4 paper taped to the lamp with Jason’s messy print explaining that Sam had just taken him over to his parents’ place so he could pick up some more of his stuff. The note was ended with kisses and a smiley face. Taylor smiled to herself and touched the edge of the note fondly.
But her conversation with Sam a few hours early jumped back into her mind and the smile faded in favour of biting her lip anxiously. She shook her head and shoved it to the back of her brain as she reached for Jason’s bathrobe and pulled it on, wrapped it securely around her stomach. It about reached her feet and smelled liked Jason’s cologne. It was exactly what she needed right now. She didn’t have any intentions of getting out of her pyjamas that day, and in fact highly suspected she would go back to the depths of Jason’s bed before the day was out. She didn’t feel like doing anything but she knew she should at least try to eat something, even if it was just dry toast.
Appearing in the living room, Taylor found Tim sprawled on the sofa flicking half-heartedly through the TV channels and she offered him a small smile as she went over to the adjoining kitchen. “Anythin’ interestin’ on, Riggs?” she asked him, taking the loaf of bread from the bed box.
“Nah,” Tim replied with a shrug and looked over the back of the sofa at her. “Ya’ feelin’ better, Mac? Sam was sayin’ ya’ were feelin’ crap this mornin’. Actually ya’ kinda look like ya’ should still be in bed. Six said he wouldn’t be long.”
Taylor dropped the bread into the toaster and shook her head. “It’s alright, Riggs. I’m okay now. Just need t’try and eat somethin’.” She started to look through a pile of mail on the counter to make sure Jason hadn’t missed anything. He should be starting to hear back from some of his college applications soon. “Hey, Riggs, this mail is all yours. Ya’ haven’t opened any of it.”
“Yeah, Billy brought it ‘round. It’s just junk,” Tim replied and went back to channel surfing.
“How do ya’ know it’s junk?” Taylor asked and started looking at some of the return addresses a little closer. Okay, some of it was junk, some had windows and might be important, but one envelope stood out from the rest and she frowned, holding it up. “Tim, this is from Columbia University. Did you apply to Columbia?”
Tim shrugged again. “I dunno. It’s probably just another recruitment thing. It’s alright, I got loads of ‘em. Not as many as Six when he was bein’ recruited, but still loads.”
Taylor’s toast popped up but she ignored it and came over to sit next to Tim on the sofa, holding the letter out to him. “I thought recruitment season was over,” she said, knowing a little about it from coming from a few generations of high school football players. “Ya’ should just open it t’make sure. Columbia’s nothin’ t’be sneezed at. It’s like an Ivory League school.”
“I don’t wanna go to Columbia. I’m goin’ t’New York with S,” Tim told her, making no move to take the letter. He picked up his can of soda and finished it off in a long gulp.
“Columbia’s in New York,” Taylor told him calmly and waved the envelope. “Can I open it?”
Tim nodded with a smirk. “If ya’ wanna be my personal secretary,” he said in amusement and reached to pick up a bag of chips from the coffee table. He tore the bag open and offered her some.
Taylor turned an interested shade of green and waved the snack out of her face. “Don’t make me vomit on ya’, Riggs,” she warned and neatly opened the envelope. She pulled the letter out and skimmed the contents at first, but her eyes widened and she had to go back and read the text closer. She put her hand over her mouth and sucked in a small breath of disbelief. “Riggs, ya’… my god, they’re offerin’ ya’ a scholarship! Columbia University is offerin’ ya’ a football scholarship.”
“A what?” Tim sat up and took the letter off her with a frown to read it. It only deepened when he absorbed what she had read and he glanced at her. “Who sent ‘em my game tapes? I ain’t been applyin’ to no Ivy League schools, Mac. Mrs Coach didn’t say nothin’ ‘bout that. Why would I wanna go t’some posh school like that?”
Taylor blinked. “Tim! A football scholarship! This school… this very, very good school wants t’pay for ya’ to play college football with ‘em because they’ve seen what ya’ can do on the field and they want ya’. Does it matter who sent the tapes? This is an invitation to a school in New York for ya’ t’do what ya’ love! And t’go t’New York with Sam. If ever there was a time t’not snort and roll ya’ eyes with disinterest at somethin’, this is it.”
Tim was still frowning as his eyes dropped back to the letter. “It doesn’t say I got it, it says I gotta meet with ‘em first. In New York. It ain’t my thing, Mac,” he told her, shaking his head.
Taylor grabbed the letter and shoved it roughly against his chest. “Make it ya’ thing, Riggs. Ya’ make it ya’ thing just like all the rest of us with dreams. Ya’ don’t wait for someone else t’make it for ya’. Ya’ might live on ya’ line of no regrets, but t’do that, ya gotta make no excuses, too. Ya’ just do it,” she all but growled.
Tim looked at her intently. Did she just growl at him? He wrestled the letter back into his hand and nodded. “Alright,” he agreed, not quite convince she wouldn’t smack him roughly around with a sofa cushion if he didn’t. She seemed to be channelling Billy, Mrs Coach and maybe the Hulk all at the same time. He wasn’t quite used to seeing Mac like this. She was usually pretty sweet and calm. “Alright,” he added again for emphasis.
Taylor swallowed and regained her composure. “Good,” she murmured with a distracted nod. She cleared her throat and climbed off the sofa. “I gotta go out. I need t’get somethin’ from the store…” Tim’s offer to Columbia had someone how come as a wake up call with the force of a slap in the forehead. What was the point of procrastinating?
“Y’a alright, Mac?” Tim asked, frowning uncertainly. She was all over the place. “Want me t’go for ya’? We need milk anyway.”
“No!” Mac threw back hastily. “It’s cool. I’ll go. Milk, sure…” She nodded and disappeared out of the room before he could say anything more. Did the pharmacy even sell milk? Jason’s Dad could- Shit! Jason’s Dad owned the Dillon pharmacy. Sam worked in the supermarket. There was no way she was going to buy what she needed in Dillon. No fucking way in the world.
Jason Street [
itwontstopme] & Sam Jameson [supermarketsam] referenced with permissionWord Count | 1302
