Texas Forever
Lyla pulled down the visor and flipped up the
mirror. She shook her head, tossed her hair back and forced a smile. Closing her
eyes, she took a deep breath and looked back up at the mirror, this time making
the smile more natural. She licked her lips and let out a soft laugh, even
though laughing was possibly the last thing she wanted to do.
She was ready.
She slipped out of the car, locked the door and waited for a truck to pass
before crossing the street. She looked up at the building. It was so sterile.
Couldn't they make hospitals look better? And especially this place, this rehab
facility. Couldn't they make it look like a place that people would want to come
to?
Except she knew that wasn't possible. No one wanted to come here.
Lyla threw her shoulders back and walked across the street, the smile still on
her face. She had just read an article in Glamour magazine about how good
posture was the key to looking attractive and confident. If that's what it took
to keep Jason's hope alive, that's what she'd do. She could smile and laugh and
hold her shoulders back. She'd keep that mask on, play the part or she'd start
screaming. She'd let herself break down one time and nothing good had come of
that. She wouldn't let herself be weak again.
There was a part of her that hated Tim, hated him for his cowardice, but in
another way for the freedom that he had to just not show up. She knew that being
abandoned by his best friend was hurting Jason terribly, but she was still
jealous that he seemed to do it so easily.
She came every day. On Tuesday and Thursday, when she had study hall during
first period, she came twice. She watched movies with him, she did homework with
him, she helped him with anything he'd let her do—she was there every single day
and dammit, she smiled the whole time too.
Lyla knew that it drove Jason crazy, but just like Tim, who wouldn't come—no,
couldn't come—she couldn't be realistic about what was really happening. Was it
denial if she realized she wasn't being honest with herself or anybody else?
If she stopped to think about it, if she let herself go to that place, she knew
that she'd run back out of this hospital and never come back. It was like the
brace around Jason's neck—the smile was the only thing keeping her together.
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Jason looked up at the clock. It was almost 3:30 and Lyla would be here any
minute. He was halfway tempted to tell the nurse that he was sleeping and to ask
her to come back later, but that didn't seem fair.
He knew he was lucky. Most of the guys here would kill to have a girl like Lyla
show up once a week, let alone once a day. But it was wearing him out. He wasn't
sure which was worse—Lyla's eternal optimism or his mom's inability to look at
him. In the hospital he hadn't noticed because the drugs kept everything just a
little bit hazy, but once he got to rehab, it was clear that his mom was beyond
freaked out.
How could he ever think that Lyla would stay with him, deal with all the stuff
going on with him and his body, if his own mother couldn't bear to be in the
room while he was being bathed or dressed?
His dad was cool. And really, it had surprised him. He knew his dad loved him,
but it was always more in that abstract sense. It was weird, but now that he
couldn’t feel it, he'd seen his dad touch him more than he ever had before the
accident. A big win on the field would get him a pat on the back or a hand on
his arm along with an "I'm proud of you, son," but it was his dad who had come
to therapy with him to learn how to get him into the wheelchair.
Jason wanted to know what to expect later—after he got home—but he didn't know
who to ask. He was pretty sure that Herc would be more than happy to explain the
quad birds and bees, but there was no way he was letting Herc have that kind of
fun at his expense.
Lyla would probably research it if he asked, and maybe she already had, but the
idea of asking his girlfriend to find out how he could be with her seemed like
too much. Honestly, they had only started doing it since prom the spring before.
Riggins had teased him mercilessly—inquiring regularly on Jason's virgin status.
If he wanted to go back to his pity party, he could waste a lot of time on how
unfair it all was. Football was gone. Notre Dame was gone. The NFL was gone. The
ranch was gone. Was sex gone too? Was a future with Lyla? He knew he was lucky
to have his brain and most of his hands, but the losses just seemed too big to
have that seem like anything at all.
Had he lost Tim as well?
For as long as he could remember, there had been four constants in his life:
God, football, Lyla and Tim. The last six weeks had been the longest he'd ever
spent away from Tim, including the year he'd gone to Notre Dame's
invitation-only camp in South Bend for four weeks.
He'd never gone six weeks not talking to Tim. It just ached in his heart and he
knew it was pissing Lyla off. It was the only time that smile moved from her
face…when he asked about Riggins. Then, the smile crumpled into pursed lips.
He wanted to give Tim a pass, to understand. Tim's life hadn't been like
Jason's. Jason had two parents who loved him, who had been around and supported
him. Tim had a dad who had run off when Tim was in grade school, a mom who died
slowly of cancer when he was twelve and a brother who never missed a chance to
tell Tim that he was no good, nothing but a burden.
He knew Tim wouldn't want to come because of his mom. Jason had been there,
outside the hospital, helping Tim get up the courage to go in and see his mom,
nearly every time Tim had visited her, and he'd been down there with Tim when
Billy came to tell him that he'd waited too long and their mom was dead.
That had given Tim a pass for the first two weeks.
Sure, he'd come in for a few minutes with the team last week, but after six
weeks, that little forced visit didn't count. Tim had always been real big on
saying they'd be friends forever, no matter what. Of everything that had
happened, waking up in the morning, the hardest thing for Jason to remember was
that his friend Tim wasn't around anymore.
---------------
Tim was going to see Jason that afternoon. At least Street wasn't in the
hospital downtown anymore. That night of the accident, when the team all went
down after the game, Tim had made it in and out of the emergency room without
really thinking about his mom. He was fine until he stopped outside the door to
wait for Reyes and Smash.
He'd puked right on the spot where he was standing that day Billy came out and
told him that he'd waited too long, been too damned chickenshit and would now
never see his mom again.
No, they'd moved Street to that rehab facility and there were no memories there.
He had to get that in his head.
Tim knew he was a fuck-up. He didn't need his brother or Tyra or Smash or anyone
else to tell him that. It was the one thing he was totally sure of.
Only a fuck-up would let his best friend down the one time he really, truly
needed him. Because, in the Tim Riggins-Jason Street friendship, there wasn't
all that much Tim was contributing. It was like their plans for the ranch. Jason
would put in 99% from his NFL money and Tim would buy the gate for the road.
Jason had the family. Jason had the home. Jason had the talent and the scouts
and the smarts and the girl.
The only thing Tim had going for him was that he had Jason's back.
Except lately he hadn't had that, either. And worse yet, he was taking about the
only thing Jason had left—Lyla.
He had to go see Jason today. Had to.
The front door slammed. Billy was back. Tim heard the refrigerator door open and
then the sound of a beer opening.
The thing was, he didn't even like the taste of beer. But he liked the way it
made him feel—or not feel.
He should be the one in the hospital, paralyzed. It wouldn't be that much of a
change from the way he felt every day.
He heard his brother call from the living room. Billy had gotten the part for
his truck and could work on it with him now.
Maybe, he'd go to the hospital tomorrow.
FIN
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