Little Daisy

Dillon, Texas

"Whoa. Who's the new girl?" Tim asks Smash, turning his head to watch as she strides past him.

"What new girl?" Smash asks, looking around in confusion.

"That one." Tim says, pulling Smash aside and pointing the girl out. She's at her locker, pulling out books. She's normal height, wearing flip-flops, a tee shirt, and work out shorts. She stands out from all the perfectly polished girls in their dresses, skirts, and heels. She's tan, but the kind one gets from being outside, not from a machine. Her long blonde hair is pulled up in a ponytail and is wavy, almost fizzy. She looks annoyed.

"I ain't ever seen her before." Smash appraises.

"That's cause she's new, dumbass." Tim informs him, rolling his eyes. Smash grins, rolls his shoulders, and fairly struts over to her locker. She moves it, then notices him leaning against the wall, smirking. She gives him a once over with an indifferent face then stares at him.

"Can I help you?" She asks blandly. Tim snickers and she leans past Smash, face still unimpressed to see Tim. "What about you, Pocahontas? Can you see me from behind those bad 80's bangs?" She asks coldly. He instantly stops snickering and straightens up. Satisfied, she turns her attention back to Smash. "Now what do you want?" She demands.

"Well, we just figured since you're new and all, you'd need some guidance." Smash stutters slightly, thrown off his game by her cold reaction. She smiles, but the humor doesn't reach her eyes.

"Aw, y'all are so concerned for the damsel in distress." She says, Texan accent exaggerated, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Please." She scoffs, reverting back to her own accent and slamming her locker. "My elementary school was bigger than this shit hole. I think I can find my way around hokey pokey Texas." With that she spins on her heel and stomps off, ponytail swishing. Smash gives Tim a shocked look. Tim tries to stifle his laughter.

"Fuck." He mutters, slamming the hood of his truck down. It's hot and the truck must've overheated again. He knows he has to replace the radiator but that hadn't ranked higher than beer on his priorities last week, leaving him in his currant situation.

"Yeah, fuck is a good word, cause you're fucked." A voice says, behind him. He glances over his shoulder, pissed. The new girl from this morning is standing a ways behind him, arms folded.

"Well thanks for the vote of faith." He says sarcastically.

"Hard to give that when you don't have faith in much of anything." She says quietly and he eyes her, unsure of her meaning. "C'mon, I'll give you a ride home." She offers, waving him over.

"How do you know where I live?" He questions, surprised.

"Please, like I could miss it, with all your damn signs letting me know exactly who you are and what you do. Tim Riggins, fullback, number 33, on the Panthers, the pride of Dillon." She quotes, sounding sarcastic.

"You live by me?" He asks, confused. She sighs and uncrosses her arms, checking her watch peevishly.

"Listen, say yes to my offer now and I'll take you home even though you smell like disgusting boy sweat and booze." She offers him, ignoring the question. "Turn me down and you can walk home in 100 degree weather." He deliberates for a second then grabs his bag and keys. She doesn't smile, just turns and leads him to a small but clean car.

"How'd you know who I am?" He asks, climbing in. She gives a humorless laugh, starting the car.

"Oh my god, there's Tim. When do y'all think he's gonna break up with Tyra? I don't know, cause I heard from Allie that Emma told her that he hooked up with Cali last week, but I don't even care! Gawd, look at dem arms." She mocks, her over the top Texan accent back. "This town acts like there's nothing better to talk about than where a football player puts his penis." She mutters.

"Football is everything in this town." He informs her, intrigued by her lack of interest towards football players.

"What? Really? And here I thought my dad had dragged me down here for the education I was gonna get." She says, feigning surprise.

"What's your name?" He asks, after a pause of silence.

"You might as well just call me Rae." She says shortly.

"I'm Tim." He says, after an awkward pause.

"I know your name, you dumbass." She says, giving him a look. "Were you even listening this entire time?"

"Yes." He says defensively. She rolls her eyes. "What year are you?" He asks, just trying to make any sort of conversation at this point.

"Junior." She mutters darkly.

"If we're the same age, how come you aren't in any of my classes?" He realizes that he's only ever seen her in the hallways.

"Because I'm in the senior classes. At my old school, I was gonna be in college classes this year. And you guys don't even have a community college that I can get my generals done at." She grumbles.

"You're in senior classes?" He asks, awed, unable to move past that. She shoots him a look.

"Yeah. Advanced Calc, Advanced English Lit, Biology, Modern History of America, those classes." She lists off. He vaguely remembers seeing those on a form for classes.

"So you're smart." He guesses.

"And you're dumb." She deadpans. "No offense." He stares at her. She glances at him, then sighs and rolls her eyes, throwing her hands up. "What, like you're insulted? You're a football player living on the wrong side of the tracks who has a broken truck, a track record of sleeping with girls, and an empty flask in your backpack. Don't try and tell me that I'm not right." She spits. They sit in silence for nearly the rest of the car ride.

"Doesn't mean I'm dumb." He finally mutters. She pulls to a stop in front of his house. He climbs out and bends down in front of her window, meaning to thank her for the ride.

"Of course you're dumb. You're from Texas." She says, patting his cheek then speeding off before he can even respond. He watches her car disappear into a driveway, furious.