Little Daisy

Rivalry Week

He doesn't see her again for a while, not really, except for in the hallways. With that first game, Jason's terrible injury, and his problems with Lyla; Rae, her shitty attitude and issues with Texas fade to the back of his mind. It isn't until Rivalry Week that she pops back up.

He's sitting at the party, more than a couple beers in, watching as half naked rally girls dance with third string kids. He looks up and sees Coach's daughter Julie looking around in mild disgust. Rae is behind her, disinterested. When a kids heaves, she sidesteps the puke easily. Julie isn't as lucky and disappears.

"Toss me a beer." He orders of a freshman near the cooler. Rae reaches into the cooler before the kid can and produces a beer, lobbing it to him. Then she grabs one of her own and takes a long drink. He watches her contemplatively and when she finishes it, she reaches down and grabs another beer.

"Because I know you'll need it soon enough." She says, setting it next to him and walking away. He looks at the beer for a long moment then cracks it open and downs it.

He sees her at the pep rally, standing next to Julie and looking supremely annoyed at everything. His eyes quickly bounce to Lyla and her short little skirt but the sense of guilt overwhelms him. He looks back to Rae and almost starts laughing when he sees that she's flicking pieces of dirt off the bleachers and towards the cheerleaders. She looks up and catches his eye. Her mouth twitches into a knowing smile and she leans back.

It's the Sunday after the game. He's sitting in the back of his truck when crunching gravel alerts him to the fact that another car is pulling up. He turns, only to spit in disgust when he realizes it's Rae's car parking next to him.

"Is that how you boys greet a lady in Texas?' She demands, climbing out and folding her arms.

"You think Texas is dumb, so why do I gotta treat you like a lady?" He sasses, pointedly unfriendly.

"Ooh, good point Riggins. Maybe you're not so dumb after all." She says, undeterred, climbing into the truck bed.

"What are you doing out here?" He asks, not bothering to kick his beer cans to the side to make room for her.

"Same idea as you. Wanted to shoot at anything and everything." She reveals, pulling a .22 out of its carrying case.

"You shoot?" He asks, surprised.

"Of course I can and I bet it's better than you." She mutters, lining up her shot then firing. One of the tin cans he had placed in the field falls from the ledge. She smirks and lowers the gun.

"Where'd you learn to shoot?" He demands, staring at the gun.

"Same place I learned to crawl, walk, run, fish, hunt, and survive. Northern Minnesota." She states, a faraway look in her eye.

"No wonder you sound funny." He mutters. She gives him an affronted look and kicks an empty beer can at him.

"I'm damn proud of my accent. I don't sound like you backwards hicks and I never want to." She vows fiercely.

"If all you're gonna do is insult Texas, why are you in the bed of my truck?" He points out, getting angrier by the second.

"I wanted to tell you good game. I also wanna ask you questions about this place and I'm not gonna go to the cheer brigade or the Barbie dolls or any of the jocks who wanna know if my 'pretty little ass has ever felt the touch of a strong Texan man'." She reveals, stealing a beer and drinking some. He snickers at the last part and takes a swig of beer.

"So you came down to me." He says slowly, surprised that she turned to him. He is still fairly certain that she hates him.

"And so I came down to you." She repeats, toasting the field and chugging the rest of the beer.

"Well whatca wanna know?" He asks, reclining against the cab.

"Are you guys really ranked as the number one team by EPSN?" She asks, with narrowed eyes.

"You bet your ass we are." He says proudly.

"Do football players get a free ride around here just because they're football players?" She fires off. He hesitates and she rolls her eyes. "That's a yes. Is it true that the Jason kid is never gonna walk again?" He clenches his fist, crushing the can in hand. She notices.

"I sure hope not." He says, through gritted teeth. She watches him.

"He was your best friend, wasn't he?" She asks softly.

"He is my best friend." He corrects her.

"Then why are you sleeping with his girlfriend?" She wonders aloud. His head snaps up and he stares at her. "I'm observant." She says, by way of explanation. Then she hops out of the truck. "It really was a good game. And I don't even like football." She compliments then climbs in her car and leaves.

A couple days later, Tim nudges Matt in the hall.

"What do you know about her?" He asks quietly, nodding towards Rae. Matt's forehead wrinkles in confusion.

"Uh, well she's new." He states, scratching his head. "Uh, she's from Minnesota, maybe? Oh, her name's Maisie Brooks. She dances. I remember seeing her at Julie's recital." He says. Tim gives him a sharp look.

"I thought her name was Rae." He says. Matt shrugs.

"On the paper it said Maisie. She had a solo." He insists, before hurrying off to class. Tim debates it for a second then chases after Rae, catching her arm and spinning her around.

"What?" She demands, wrenching her arm from his grasp in annoyance that he's keeping her from class.

"You're a liar. You said your name was Rae. It's Maisie." He accuses her, without preamble. She stares up at him defiantly.

"You haven't earned the right to call me that. You can call me Rae or don't call me anything." She hisses furiously, smacking his chest then storming off to class. He's left in a trail of her dust, confused.