Saracen's horrible Rally Girl is grilling him about this car he wants to buy, and he's throwing a wild amount of Matthewing at it, about how it's not a big deal and it's going to be too expensive, et cetera. He talks himself out of so much stuff, it's so sad. She notifies him that she's an "exceptional negotiator," which I can respect, and he asks if she's lately from the unholy army of Buddy Garrity, and she laughs. "I actually know cars. I bet I can get you a discount." What Matt needs is somebody who can teach him how to navigate the real world, though, so I guess I don't hate her. She sure does have a crazy old face, though. Which he will now be swallowing whole.
Julie sees them making out and once again totally wilts and runs into a classroom, where of course Noah From Cincinnati is sitting listening to his evil pervert iPod. (Which is I'm sure full of songs like "Girl, You'll Be A Woman Soon" and "I'm Not A Girl, Not Yet A Woman" and "Young Girl, Get Out Of My Mind." Or will be soon.) She quickly explains in that Julie way that she is going to need to keep the door closed for a while because her ex and his scary girlfriend are pretty into PDA and really she just needs to avoid them for awhile, because Matt's the QB1 and she's a cheerleader, so it's like he's with this perfect doll and Julie was just an interlude, but RG is the real deal, but honestly, she just came in there to cry. He watches her give this whole speech, smiling tenderly, and offers her a bite of his veggie deluxe sandwich. Liberal vegetarian teacher from the Fourth Estate with an open mind and an iPod! He's a witch! The camera lays on his cutie-pie menace pretty thick, but I'm so sure. Not this show, and not this girl. Maybe Tyra, it would play out that way, but at most I see this relationship getting weird like a boundary-crossing office romance where you're like, "Wait, are we both totally being gross?" And then it's awkward.
Tami walks that hideous baby around yelling at Coach about how, yes, she did due diligence on the kid's transcripts, and all Eric's sports-ass covering has been done, but there are larger issues at play, such as the fact that Santiago is a homeless orphan with only Buddy Garrity on whom to depend, which is thrice horrible. Eric, of course, is like: "The team is his family, the field is his home, I am his father, Landry is his beagle puppy, Street is his older brother," and all that adorable stuff, but Tami is like, No. Actual people right now. He gets a family first, and that's the end of it. Tami Taylor is West Texas poetry in motion. The South has their Steel Magnolias; we've got Steel Buttermilk Pies.