Chicago (a Friday Night Lights fanfiction)

Okay

After Thanksgiving dinner, when everyone was too full to move, Matt had to take his grandmother home. She always got worse at night, and he didn't want that to happen after Mrs. Taylor's dinner. Julie had to help clean up, anyway. He found her in the hallway just outside the kitchen. "Hey, can I see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Why don't you—come to the game with me, okay? And then we can talk after."

Matt smiled. He wanted to say it sounded just like old times—but it wasn't old times, and they weren't those people anymore. He wasn't QB1, that was for sure. Strangely, he really didn't miss it. Missed the team, but not the game.

His grandma came with them to the game, of course, wishing out loud that Matt was still playing, fretting over rooting for the Lions against the Panthers. But the Panthers weren't the same team anymore—J.D. McCoy and his dad had taken over. Matt hoped they lost, and lost bad, just as fervently as anyone in East Dillon.

It was good to watch Landry play, although Matt felt it with his friend when the extra point he kicked went wide. Hard not to let the nerves get to you.

As the game went on, he got more into it. He couldn't remember the last time he got to just sit and watch a game—at least, not by choice—and there really was something about Texas and football that just went together. It was good to be home.

Watching Landry's kick sail through the goalposts to win the game was one of the finest moments Matt had had in a long time. He was proud of his friend—and he respected Coach all the more for giving Landry a chance to redeem himself and make the final kick with such an important game on the line.

Afterward, they drove his grandma home and got her settled in bed, and they sat on the front steps together, just like they had so often before.

"I'm sorry, Julie. I really am."

"I know you are. And I guess I understand why you felt like it had to be that way. But ... I missed you, too. So much. And I didn't know where you were, or when or if I was ever going to hear from you again, and I didn't know what that meant for me, or for us, and I had to make all these decisions on my own, without knowing if—" She was crying now, and Matt put his arm around her shoulders and let her sob her feelings out against his chest.

At last her tears slowed, and Matt wiped away a few of his own. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I am now. I must look pretty gross, though."

He lifted her face, ignoring the wet cheeks and the red nose. "You're beautiful." And he kissed her, soft and sweet and slow. "Can I—can I see you tomorrow?"

"You can."

"I have just the plan. You'll like it, I promise."

Julie laughed. "You've said that before."

"And you liked it! Remember that time we went to Applebee's?"

"Which time?"

"Like, the fourth time we went there, and we shared that skillet dessert?"

"That was good, I'll grant you that." She kissed his cheek and got up. "See you tomorrow."

"Good-night, Julie."

When she was gone, Matt sat on the stoop a while longer, enjoying the gentle night—especially compared with the biting winds of Chicago—and the sleeping presence of his sweet grandma, and the memory of Julie's kiss.

The next day, he took her to the Alamo Freeze, where she threw fries at him, and refused to share her sundae, and they laughed until the people at the table next to them got up and left, which only made them laugh harder.

After that, they drove out to the lake and sat on the railing of the parking lot, wrapped in a blanket, looking out across the lake.

They were both quiet, just enjoying the peace. But at last Julie stirred. "So, why did you bring me here?"

"Because this is a special spot."

She grinned. "Because you deflowered me here?"

"Well, I wouldn't use those words necessarily ... but, yeah." He couldn't help smiling, and Julie laughed, leaning in to him. He'd wondered if he would ever hear her laugh again.

"You're such a nerd."

"It is special."

She shook her head, the smile slipping off her face. "You're a hard person to stay mad at."

He was glad she felt that way, but he had deserved her being mad at him, and he wanted her to know he understood. "I am sorry about the way I left."

Julie's mouth quivered as she watched the water ripple in the wind. Turning to look at him, she said, "I can't go to Chicago, Matt. Because it's not just a weekend, it's ... it's a lot longer. I'm gonna go, and I'm gonna fall in love with the city, and the neighborhood, and the way your hallway smells like coffee when you get home at night. And you'll be there. And I'll never follow my dreams. And as much as I love you, I need to find my own Chicago."

Understanding her, hearing that what she was saying was the same way he'd felt when he left, Matt kissed her forehead gently. "It's okay. I get it."

"Do you? I'm glad."

"We can still talk, though, right? I promise to call you, if you promise to call me."

"Yeah. I'd like that."

"Good. It's a deal."

They sat there a while longer, and then he drove her home. He didn't kiss her good-bye, but it felt different than before. Better, because they understood each other now.

So he took Landry to Chicago. He had a good time, and he only pictured Julie where Landry was a few times a day—and when Landry left, he was alone with his city again ... and that was okay.