Buddy’s prison cell. Eric asks Buddy what the hell happened; I hope he brought a harmonica, because I can bet Buddy knows some morose tunes. Or at least the Dillon High theme song. Buddy soft-pedals that it’s not anything Eric needs to worry about, he just wants Eric to focus on Friday night. “The Bisons fight dirty… and everybody else don’t like you, so don’t worry about me,” Buddy says. Aw, it’s nice to see him allude to the friendship these two built up by the end of S1. Eric points out that they’re not letting Buddy out until the next day, and asks again what happened. Buddy looks at Eric and sighs, humiliated. I hate to tell you this, Buddy, but it’s not rock bottom; it’s not even close. Cut to Tami, driving in her car and talking on her cell, OMGing over the news. On the other end, Eric says that he still doesn’t know what happened, but that Buddy asked for them to let Lyla know what’s going on. Tami’s more than happy to do so, of course, but that means she won’t be able to pick up Julie from Matt’s house – could Eric do it for her? Eric says he will. Tami goes to the Garrity Condo of Broken Dreams, about to be redubbed the Garrity House of Nightmares We Made Ourselves. Lyla answers the door and Tami, taking a page from Buddy’s book, says that her dad wanted to let her know that he got into “a little bit of a scrape.” HA! Oh, Tami Taylor. Lyla’s eyes go wide when Tami says that there was a fight, and she goggles when Tami says he’s going to have to spend the night in jail. Tami very kindly says that she knows Lyla’s a big girl, but she’s welcome to come stay with them tonight “if you want to be around family.” Aw. Lyla gratefully accepts.
Chez Saracen. A post-coital Matt and Julie LIE IN BED, squeeee, and make warm googly-eyes at each other. It’s very tender and sweet. Julie tells Matt that she loves him; Matt smiles and says it back. He looks up at the clock and says that they should probably get up, because her mom’ll be there in a half-hour, and “Grandma and Shelby’ll be back from the doctor’s soon.” Aaaaand we cut to Eric pulling up outside Saracen’s house. Mayday! Mayday! THIS IS NOT A DRILL. Julie says they should listen to one more song, and Matt caves, looking gloriously happy and relaxed. Sex agrees with you, son! Could I remind you: NOT A DRILL. Eric raps on the front door. Getting no response, he opens the front door and then calls for Julie, and I can guarantee you Eric Taylor’s never gonna do that again. The camera angle cuts to a wide shot as the screen door closes behind him; we hear Julie shriek for her father to get out, and then Eric Taylor bolts from the Saracen home, walking straight to the driver’s side of the car without a word. He paces back and forth in front of the car door and jerks it open when he hears Julie come out, who apparently has the superpower of insta-dressing, because she’s wearing two layers and is jerking on a jacket as she runs out to the SUV. She tries to open the passenger side door, but it’s locked; Eric’s forgotten to open it for her. Oh, ouch – and heh. Eric, staring out his window, realizes his mistake and angrily jerks at the handle to unlock all the car doors. They both put their seat belts on, staring at anything but each other; her hair hangs low so we can’t see her face. Poor Taylors! Eric guns the engine and they drive away, and Julie stares forlornly at Matt’s house as they go.
Crucifictorius practice, which is actually sounding pretty good. Landry stops to talk to the others about adding something different in at that part, and Tyra saunters in with a “hey, y’all” like she owns the place. I suppose that for all intents and purposes, she did once; old habits die hard. Landry turns off his amp and Tyra brusquely asks if she can talk to him; he says sure and puts his guitar down, walking outside with her. The rest of the band is not amused. “You always pop up at the most random times,” Landry muses. Tyra comments that they sound good; it’s not a compliment, just a precursor to asking for a favor. Landry, poor guy, starts to actually talk about his music, and Tyra more or less cuts to the chase that she needs his tutoring help for the SATs. Inside, Devin (bass) and Jimmy (drummer) roll their eyes at each other. Landry folds, saying that he’ll be happy to. Inside we get a quick shot of Devin’s look of disappointment. Landry continues that he’ll have to schedule it around band practice, football practice and school, disproving Julie’s earlier claim that he has nothing to do. Tyra says she’ll call him tomorrow to set something up and then leaves, calling goodbye to the band as she goes. Landry walks back in and picks up on the disbelief on his friend’s faces. “It’s like you’re a prostitute,” Devin says. “Except you don’t get paid.” “Or laid,” Jimmy adds, with an eyebrow waggle. Oh, snap! Schooled by the drummer, Landry: that’s gotta hurt. Landry tries to throw his own snark back by asking how many times Jimmy’s gotten laid at all, and Devin tries to get them to refocus on the music. Cut to…
Lyla Garrity, who is wearing a long white T-shirt with “33: NO ONE ELSE” emblazoned upon it in blue letters, which I simply MUST OWN, gets ready for bed at Chez Taylor. She takes her little black bag of toiletries into the Taylor bathroom and crosses paths with Julie, who’s doing the same. Julie apologizes for the air mattress before starting to brush her teeth; Lyla says it’s just fine and starts to tie up her hair in a ponytail. Julie, watching Lyla in the mirror, stops brushing and awkwardly says that she’s sorry about Buddy’s dilemma du jour. “It really sucks,” she says quietly. She asks Lyla if she wants to talk about it, and Lyla graciously declines, but thanks Julie for her thoughtfulness. Julie brushes once or twice before informing Lyla that there might be some drama with her parents, and when Lyla asks why, says that she and Matt were “doing stuff” and her dad kind of walked in. “You mean ‘making out’ doing stuff, or like… doing stuff,” Lyla asks, smiling conspiratorially. Hee! I love that Lyla has such a handle on her sexuality. Julie clarifies that this was after “doing stuff”, and her dad walked in, so… “Wow,” Lyla says sympathetically. “That really sucks.” Julie agrees, adding “Welcome to my world,” and then spitting her toothpaste out into the sink. We immediately cut to…
Tami, spitting out her toothpaste in her bathroom sink. She turns out the bathroom light and walks into the bedroom, where Eric is sitting on his side of the bed, his back absolutely straight, his eyes cast down to the floor. Hee, he can’t even look at a bed! Poor daddy. She kisses him, apparently oblivious to the storm of OMG raging inside him; he doesn’t even blink. She crawls into bed, pulling up the covers. He twists his fingers together and takes a moment before saying it, his voice barely more than a whisper: “I found Julie and Matt in bed together this afternoon.” Tami takes all of two seconds to jackknife up, scramble to sit next to her husband on the edge of the bed, and ask what he just said. He repeats it in the same quiet, even tone; he’s gone all the way through TMI and out the other side. Tami runs through a series of questions – where did it happen, where was the grandmother, Eric actually walked in on them? Eric answers each question as best he can and then says he went outside and waited for his girl to come out. Eric stares at the wall and Tami stares at the door; she jumps up and says she’s going to go talk to Julie. “Before you talk to her, you better know what you’re gonna say,” Eric says, looking at her with that wide-eyed, “here be dragons” look that he has. Tami sits down next to him again and admits that she has absolutely no idea what to say, and we cut to –
Julie, standing in the hallway with ear pressed against the wall to her parents’ bedroom. Hee! Oh, Taylors: your mutual freaked-out-ness is adorable. Lyla calls from Julie’s bedroom, asking what she’s doing; Julie says she’s trying to find out how long they’re going to ground her. “Well, at least they have another daughter,” Lyla says, and immediately apologizes for making a bad joke. Julie flops down on her bed and brushes the hair out of her eyes, sniffling a little. Lyla sits up and tells Julie that Matt seems like a really nice guy. Julie agrees that he is, but that’s not the problem, and her voice breaks a little: “I just feel like everything’s different now. Like I’m not Daddy’s Little Girl anymore.” If there’s anyone in the world who can relate to her sex life being something that’s public knowledge and a source of humiliation, y’all, it is Lyla Garrity. She nods with a quiet “yeah,” and looks down. Julie chews her lower lip, knowing there’s nothing Lyla can say that can make it better, and tries not to cry. I am tempted to remind Eric Taylor about the time in S1 when he essentially told Matt to get laid so that he would play better on the field, but everyone’s too sad and anxious for me to enjoy pointing out the giant double standard.
Chez Taylor Kitchen. Tami moves things about restlessly – wearing all black, btw, which is a nice touch – as Julie emerges from her bedroom. The two call hey to each other without making eye contact, and Tami takes a deep breath before telling Julie that Eric told her about what happened at Matt’s house. Julie, her face half in shadow, mutters a “great”, and Tami asks if there’s anything that Julie’d like to say. Like what, Tami? “He should’ve knocked,” Julie snarks, and BWA! Favorite line of the episode, right there. Tami does not smack her child for her sass – she calmly says that she doesn’t like Julie’s tone and she wants to have a conversation about it. Julie says that’s fine, and Tami stumbles over the words, saying that it’s disconcerting and she doesn’t know what to say, “and your dad and I…” At the mere mention of her dad, Julie can’t take anymore: “Why don’t you just tell me what my punishment is?” she says, her face set. Tami’s eyes open a little wider. “Your punishment is, you’re going to have to have a conversation with me about it,” she says, belaying the conversation to hustle the two of them off to school. Well played, Tami!
Dillon prison. A female judge announces that Buddy has been charged with drunk and disorderly conduct, assault and battery, and $30,000 worth of damage to the Landing Strip. Damn, what were those lights made of, titanium? Buddy pleads not guilty and the judge sets bail at $10,000. An officer leads Buddy away. He glances at Lyla in the courtroom as he leaves, but she doesn’t meet his eyes; as he turns the corner, she looks after him worriedly. It’s not rock bottom, Buddy; still not even close.
Dillon High parking lot. Did they just spend an afternoon here, shooting all their footage? Matt emerges and sees Julie waiting for him; the first thing he says, after “hey” is whether she’s talked to her dad yet. Aw, Matty! I’d be shaking in my hiking boots, too. Julie tells him that her dad hasn’t said word one to her since the incident, and Matt stops dead in his tracks, realizing how bad this really is. He suggests that she meet him at the movies tomorrow night, rather than him picking her up at her house. Julie tells him that’s not on the menu: “You have to come to my house!” Matt: “No, I really don’t.” HA! Julie gives this crap the response it deserves: “Man up, Matt.” BOOYAH! Our Julie is really using her powers of snark for good in this episode, and I love it.
The McCoy Mansion. Have I mentioned yet how much this storyline annoys me? It’s really not worthy of the subtlety that’s usually prevalent in FNL storylines. To sum up: the doorbell rings, Katie answers it, and Madison asks if she can come in and play. Well, she asks if JD’s home, but it’s the same thing. Katie’s gobsmacked at the girl with the very short miniskirt on her porch; Monty overhears on the couch and sits up like a big brown bear who suddenly realizes that all the honey is gone. Bznuh? Madison takes control of the situation, smiling brightly and introducing herself, cooing over their home and explaining that she “knows JD from school.” When she asks for the Nth time if JD’s at home, Katie invites her to go on up to JD’s room even as Monty demurs that his Golden Boy is “upstairs studying”. Guess which parent Madison listens to? She walks in and jogs up the stairs in her mini-skirt, calling “I’ll find my way!” as she goes. Yes, I’m sure you will, you obvious stereotype. Monty glares after her, asking what in the hell just happened; Katie, gleeful that her son might actually have a life outside of football, is elated.
Chez Colette. Landry, who’s wearing a “Dillon Debate Team” T-shirt, tutors Tyra in linguistics. She seems to be doing well, and then Angela, clad in only a bath towel, appears fresh from the shower. In! Appropriate! She gets a cigarette as she coos that they missed having Landry around, and oh, would he mind taking a look at the pilot light when he gets a chance? “Mama? Landry’s helping me right now,” Tyra says, and Angela leaves, flapping her hands that whenever Landry has a moment, it’d be fine. Landry blinks at Tyra, realizing just how much he’s the Help Around Here. Well, better late than never, honey.
Buddy Condo of Heartbreak. Buddy and Lyla walk inside, their eyes averted from one another. Buddy throws his coat over his armchair and sits down on the couch with a melancholy sigh; Lyla folds her arms and gently asks Buddy if he’s going to tell her what happened. An unshaven, unkempt and broken Buddy tells her that “Russell” wanted to meet there to discuss an investment he’d made: “the deal went south and I lost all my money and… I lost my temper, that’s all.” He says Russell swindled him for the last time, and Lyla points out that Buddy just says it was an investment. Buddy says the bottom line is Russell took his money, but it’s not something Lyla needs to worry about. Lyla points out that she is worried, because her father’s getting arraigned for being a crazy drunk at a strip club, and asks again for her father to tell her why it happened. Buddy finally ‘fesses up: times have been bad, money is tight, so he dipped into their savings and tried to make some quick money. “We’re in trouble,” he admits. “We’re in big trouble.” Lyla, bless her, steps up immediately, saying that she’ll get a job and help out until she goes to college. Buddy stares at her brokenly, and admits that he used her college money for the investment. He mortgaged his daughter’s future on a bad investment: all of it. Lyla blinks, all the air knocked out of her. Her face crumples; she rocks back on her heels and goes into her room. Buddy calls that she’s still going to go to college, and that he’ll find away to fix it, but girlfriend is already packing, and I don’t blame her one bit. It’s one thing to need to work to put yourself through college, and I think Lyla’s become the kind of person who would be perfectly willing to do that in order to make ends meet – this is about a huge betrayal of trust. Buddy quietly tells her that she’s not going anywhere, but he’s trying to convince himself. She comes out with her bag packed, and when he tries to grab her arm to keep her there with him, she shouts at him not to touch her. “Lyla, honey, please don’t leave me,” he begs, but she walks out and slams the door. Dingdingding! Yep, rock bottom; this is the place. Watch Buddy, though, because he still can’t see it.
Panthers locker room, wherein the boys suit up for practice. Matt and Landry sit together on the bench as Landry asks what Matt’s learned. “To always lock the door,” Matt mutters. “…when having sex with the Coach’s daughter,” Landry finishes, and Matt essentially snarks that he might want to speak up, because he doesn’t think the guys on the other side of the room heard him. Landry points out that Matt’s learning curve is moot, because once Coach sees him, Matt’s dead. Coach comes in. “Whateveryoudodon’tlookhimintheeye,” Landry says, offering the worst advice ever, as is his wont. Coach makes an announcement about the referees for Friday’s game, and loses his train of thought when he sees Matt staring resolutely at the floor, like a kid who knows he’s busted and isn’t willing to, as Julie says, “Man up.” Eric turns to the rest of the team, saying that they lost the appeal about the referees, which means they can look forward to a lot of “missed calls and late hits.” Ya think? Hee. He stresses that no one’s going to lose their tempers out there; they’re just going to play their game of football. “Leave the officials to me,” he says, glancing again at Matt, who’s still avoiding his gaze. He sends them out to the field and walks deliberately into his office, in the opposite direction from Matt.
Chez Colette. Tyra and Landry sit on the deck running through vocabulary flash cards, and we hit “lugubrious” (adj.: mournful, dismal, or gloomy, esp. in an affected, exaggerated, or unrelieved manner: lugubrious songs of lost love), when Tyra announces that she’s bored. Landry flips the cards against each other as he says he’s sorry, but she wanted to do this. Tyra deflects, saying he’s not boring, vocabulary is boring. She volunteers to get him a drink, make sandwiches, anything to take a break. Landry says he’s going to have to leave in a few minutes to make band practice, so they might as well bulldoze through. Tyra asks if his band can’t wait “for a half hour or something” and my God, woman! You really are totally self-involved! Landry says that they can’t, because he made a commitment to them. “You guys cuttin’ a record or something?” Tyra snarks, and oh, you just lost the last iota of sympathy I had for you, Miss BROUGHT THIS ON HERSELF. Landry finally stands up for himself, saying that he’s not going to “ditch them so I can have a sandwich with you.” Yes! Go, Landry! He says that he told her he would help her with her vocabulary, and he did, and then he picks up his books to leave. Tyra, with all the self-awareness of a lichenous rock, asks why Landry’s getting so mad. “Because you keep taking advantage of me because you know how I feel about you,” Landry half-shouts. He says she does it without thinking and he just lets her, and then he starts to walk away. Tyra shouts after him, still not understanding a word he’s saying, and he asks her if she’s ever read the children’s book “The Giving Tree.” I will freely volunteer that I cheered out loud when he said that, because that book has always terrified me, and I have always said that it’s creepy beyond belief. He says that he’s the tree, and she’s the stump: “you take and take and take until there’s absolutely nothing left, Tyra.” Tyra, stunned, acknowledges the truth of this through her silence. He calls her selfish, and says that what they have is not a friendship, and then he just walks away, leaving Tyra standing alone in the sunlight. Excellent scene by both actors, and by the writers.
Local diner. Buddy and Eric sit at a booth while Buddy regales Eric with his tale of woe: he has nothing left, he could lose the condo, he doubts that the Landing Strip’s even worth $30,000, never mind actually having that much in damage from his brawl. There’s not a shred of understanding that he’s in any way responsible for what’s happened. Eric doesn’t know what to say to any of this and says as much, and Buddy exposits that Lyla has moved in with Riggins. “We are in the middle of a family crisis, and Lyla leaves in a huff,” he whines. My mind, y’all, it is boggled. Buddy starts to complain about how when he was in college, he had to work, thank you very much, he had to walk uphill in the snow both ways, and Eric Taylor has had enough: “Lemme tell you somethin’. Money? Comes and goes. These kids of ours? That’s a one-time thing.” Buddy, caught in mid-sentence, immediately realizes Eric knows what he’s talking about. Come on, Buddy, get it together!
Chez Taylor. Julie watches TV in the living room – a cartoon of penguins, from the looks of it – as Tami stands in the entrance to the hallway, watching her little girl. She comes in, turns the TV off, and sits next to her daughter on the couch. “Would it be alright if we had this conversation now?” she asks quietly. There you go. Julie nods a yes and Tami, blinking back tears a little, asks if Julie loves Matt. Julie nods and says that she does. Tami says “good” and seems to mean it; she asks if Matt loves Julie. Julie looks up and at her mother for the first time in the scene, saying Matt does love her. Well, duh! It’s only been three seasons. “He does?” Tami asks, breaking into a giant smile. Awww, Tami. She spoils the moment by asking about birth control. Julie, her voice cracking, says that she doesn’t want to talk about specifics, but Tami gently says that’s the conversation; this is how it goes. Julie says that they’re being safe, and clarifies when Tami presses her for specifics that they’re using condoms. Tami asks if they’re using them every time, “because sometimes boys try to…” “No, Matt’s really good about it,” Julie says, and then immediately feels humiliated again. Also: nice nod to the Carlotta storyline, there. Heh. “And you know that just because you’re having sex this one time,” Tami starts, and then breaks off, rolling her eyes up to keep from crying. I don’t know how to say this, Tami, but you can’t put the genie back in the bottle – even if you do have to try. “…you can stop, any time. And if you ever break uup with Matt, it’s not like you have to… have sex with the next boy, necessarily…” Julie asks why her mom, who has gotten the stammers from Matt, is crying. “Because I wanted you to wait,” Tami admits, and Julie’s face crumples; she doesn’t know yet that Tami means she wanted life to be safe for Julie for as long as possible. They hold hands on the couch as Julie says that she didn’t want to disappoint her mom, and Tami shakes her head that she didn’t. She scoots forward on the couch and pulls her daughter into a hug, both of them crying, and the whole audience reaches for the kleenex. Brilliant work by both actresses, and a wonderful bookend to the first conversation they had about sex in S1. And speaking of parents who could take a lesson from Tami about taking about sex with their kid, we cut to…
McCoy Estates. JD and his control freak of a father play basketball as Monty asks JD about Madison. JD says he likes her, and Monty hits a rim shot. Heh. Monty starts talking about playoffs and telling JD that now is not the time to chase skirts: “Madison and a lot of girls like her are going to be waiting in the wings when the season is over.” JD argues that Madison will move on to someone else, and Monty scoffs that she’ll be waiting for 50 years if he wins state. He calls a time out and has to admonish JD twice to look at him. “You’re on a break with her. She’s on the back burner. Yes? I’m asking you,” he says. Oh, man. JD squints at his father in near-disbelief until finally shrugging an okay. He calls the next shot wins the game and makes a perfect basket. Foreshadowing? Let’s hope so.
Jules and Tyra walk through downtown Dillon; Julie asks what they’re doing. “You ever hear of ‘The Giving Tree’?” Tyra asks. Heh. She snarks that Landry thinks he’s the little boy and Tyra’s the tree, like how crazy is that, Julie?… Julie bites her lip and falls behind. “That’s an awful long pause, Julie,” Tyra says. Hee. Julie says that’s kind of exactly their relationship: “he worships the ground you walk on, and you… allow him to be seen with you.” Tyra blinks: “Yeah, see, that doesn’t help me.” HEE! Julie asks what they’re doing here, if Tyra knows this already, and Tyra says she’s proving Landry wrong. They walk into a bar with “Live Music Saturday” posted outside. Inside the bar, Tyra is singing the praises of Crucifictorius; the manager, he is not impressed. He thinks the name is silly, they have no demo tape, they have no press… yeah, I’ve been there. Tyra lies that they have tons of fans, and that the place would be completely packed. “Not to mention that I’m gonna bring all my girlfriends, who all look just like… her,” she says, pointing at Julie, who throws a hopeful smile at the manager. Tyra beams at the manager and does a little head-tilt. Cut to Chez Landry, who opens the front door and looks at a woebegone Tyra, looking for all the world like she’s five years old and can’t find her best friend. She hands him a flier: “You and your stupid band are playing TC’s on Friday, so don’t say I never did anything for you, alright?” Landry looks down at the flier and then up at Tyra, who’s walking away. “And don’t call me selfish, alright?” She says. “It hurts my feelings.” Landry watches her go and then looks down at the flier again; he cracks a smile and walks back inside. Yay!
Chez Taylor. Tami opens the front door to find Matt, who has manned up. “Oh. Hey. Matt,” Tami says, her face a blank slate. Matt stammers that he’s there “to take Julie to the movies… and then bring her… right back.” HEH. Tami smiles and graciously invites him in, and then informs him that “Coach is in the back yard, if you want to go wait out there.” BWAHAHA! Oh, Tami, I adore. Matt is rooted to the spot, of course, absolutely terrified. He walks out back to find Eric scrubbing the bejeezus out of his grill. Oh, Eric: some things you can’t scrub clean, no matter how much brain bleach you use. Matt stands in the doorway, shifting his weight, and finally calls to his Coach. Eric turns around, glaring at him, and then turns back to his grill, telling Matt to come over. I’d thank my lucky stars he wasn’t trimming the hedges, Matt. Matt steps out onto the patio, keeping his distance; Eric, breathing hard with exertion, finally drops the scrubber and stares at Matt. “I know your father’s in Iraq, but I think if he were here there’d be one thing that we’d agree on, he and I: the both of us. And that is… women are to be respected,” he says sharply. Matt yessirs and looks down; Eric goes back to the grill and starts scrubbing again, so hard that the whole thing rattles. He turns back suddenly: “That is my daughter,” he snaps, turning the full power of his I am not screwing around glare on Matt. Matt holds his gaze and yessirs again. Eric turns to the grill for the third time and Matt stands there for a second, not knowing what to say; he finally blinks, embarrassed and grateful that Coach didn’t just gut him where he stood.
Riggins Ranch. Tim gets something from the fridge when there’s a loud knock at the door, and Buddy knocks again, hollering Lyla’s name. The camera angle goes wide and we see Lyla on the couch, reading a magazine, not moving. I love that Buddy asked Eric if he could imagine what Lyla living at the Riggins house would be like, and the two of them are just hanging out, not to mention fully dressed. “Lyla, I know you’re in there, I see your car out here, I’m still your daddy,” Buddy hollers. Tim gently asks Lyla what she wants to do; Lyla says that she has nothing to say to him. Buddy gets louder: “Riggins, let her outta there!” He hollers that he doesn’t care if he wakes up all the neighbors. Lyla looks at Tim, who just looks at her, supportive but also concerned; she finally gets off the couch and storms outside, asking what Buddy wants. Buddy says that he wants for her to come home, and that this is no excuse to play house with Riggins. Um, I think any excuse is a good one to play house with Riggins, Buddy. Lyla snarkily asks if Buddy’s going to lecture her on morals, and when Buddy says “we can fix this”, expositions that he owes tens of thousands of dollars for destroying a strip club. Buddy goes on the offensive, calling Lyla a spoiled little brat – twice – and telling her that life is complicated and bla dee excuses self-denial BLA, “and right now your mother is out there in California bleedin’ me dry,” and Lyla LOSES IT, crying and shoving him in the chest and shouting that Buddy doesn’t get to blame this on her mom. “You were the one who cheated, you were the one who threw your family away and I was the idiot who stuck with you!” Buddy backs up, stunned into silence that his little girl is going on the attack with, oh, THE TRUTH. She tells him that he doesn’t have the right to call her spoiled: “We’ve been putting that money away since I was a baby, you said if I got the grades that it was mine, and you didn’t even ask. You just do whatever you want and wonder why everybody hates you,” she says, breaking away and walking back inside. Buddy says that he’s not through and shouts at his daughter not to walk away from him. He jerks open the screen door and Tim Riggins, God love him, opens the front door and stands in the doorway. “Hey,” he says quietly, and Buddy looks away in frustration. “Tim Riggins, I am gonna talk to my daughter, young man,” he yells, and Tim just shakes his head slightly: “Not right now.” Buddy asks Tim who the hell he thinks he is – my answer would have been the rational one, but that’s just me. Tim: “You gotta go.” Buddy huffs in disbelief, looking for all the world like he’s about to tackle Tim and bodily drag Lyla back home, and then Tim says one word: “Please.” Buddy stares at Tim and realizes how far he’s fallen when Tim is schooling him on how to behave. He closes his eyes for a moment and then turns away, walking down the yard to his car. Tim stands in the doorway, one arm braced against the wall until Buddy’s gone; he stares at the floor worriedly and then closes the door behind him. DAMN.
