Chicago (a Friday Night Lights fanfiction)

Safety

Matt was grateful for classes and work to go to—much as he loved Julie, and was happy she was here with him, he needed to wrap his head around this affair with a married man, and the way it had pushed her off her own path and into his, and what that meant for them, for him, in the long term.

He wasn't sure he had come to any conclusions while he sat in class and tried to draw, but he was damned sure that nothing usable had come from anything he worked on this week. Still, it had been nice to give his hands something to do while his mind turned the problem over and over.

He had to admit, coming home to a hot meal that Julie had cooked was really nice. She chattered on about the food and shopping for it while she finished the cooking and set everything out. After only a few days, she knew her way around his apartment kitchen almost as well as he did and that felt—good. Really good. So good that Matt was sure finally of what he wanted ... and of how he wanted it. And he knew that if she was with him, really with him, he wanted it to be because a life together with him offered her challenges and promises as well as comfort and safety. And that wasn't what this was.

But, as always, he wasn't sure how to bring up an uncomfortable topic, and he didn't want to see the shadows back in her blue eyes because of something he said, as much as he needed to say it. So he stayed quiet and let her talk, digging in to the food.

"So I went to see a couple of museums today, and they were pretty amazing. And then I was gonna go to the planetarium, but it was the most beautiful day outside, so ... I decided I'd just go for a walk. And then ... Have you seen the bean?"

Everyone had seen the bean. It was on the top ten list of anyone who moved to the city. Matt smiled, somewhat reluctantly. "I have seen the bean."

"The bean is kind of amazing up close in person," Julie gushed.

It felt weird and a little bit wrong to Matt, her enthusiasm. Like this was an extended vacation for her, not real life at all—like she didn't see his life, what he was trying to build here, as real. And a little bit like she was trying too hard to show him how much she loved it here. He couldn't hold the worry inside him any longer, and without entirely meaning to, he asked her, "Julie, what ... what are you doing?"

"I'm telling you about my day."

"Right, I know, but ... I mean, what are you doing here in Chicago? Don't you have to go home at some point?"

She was staring at him like he had broken some trust by bringing it up. Once, a look like that would have shut him up completely, but he knew who he was now, and what he wanted, and he needed her to know, too.

Julie stirred her spaghetti around with her fork. "Well, I thought that you said that I could stay."

"Right. And you can. But ... b-but do your parents even know that you're here?" He had to believe they didn't, or his phone would be ringing off the hook.

Her face pinched unhappily, angrily, answering his question.

"Look," Matt hastened to assure her, "this has all been great. This food is amazing. You're amazing. I just ... I don't want to be your safety net."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I mean that it feels like you're only here because you're trying to avoid some stuff that's going on in your real life, you know, 'cause you're supposed to be at college."

"I am. It's not like I'm moving in with you or something."

"Don't get mad, okay? Do not get mad at me. I'm just ... I'm just trying to say to you you have a life somewhere else that you need to be living, and that life is in Burleson."

Julie spoke slowly, like she was trying to figure out what he was saying and couldn't quite get it. "So, this whole week, you and me ..."

"Has been amazing. It's been great. I wish you could stay longer. I wish you lived here. But ... But you don't live here."

She sniffed, like she was holding back tears, and got hastily to her feet. "I gotta ..." She reached for her coat.

"Where you going?"

"I gotta go for a walk."

"Where?"

"I just need some air."

Matt was left at the table, wishing he hadn't said anything, but knowing he couldn't have let things keep going this way, drifting along, with Julie not telling him what she was thinking, or what she wanted—as far as he could see, with Julie not telling herself what she was thinking, or what she wanted. He understood. He had been lost, too, those last months in Dillon, and he had handled it badly, and he had hurt people. Julie included. He wanted her to take the time to figure herself out—but it was clear she wasn't going to do that as long as she could stay here and spend her days going to museums and not thinking.

He tried to finish dinner, but his appetite was gone. Instead, he focused on cleaning everything up, scouring the kitchen in a way he remembered his grandma doing whenever she was upset and finally understood, listening constantly for her steps at the door, worrying that she might easily just get in her car and drive away from him the way she had from everything else in her life.