Julie drives up to Grandma Saracen's house in the rain. Matt's Number Seven Panther's sign hangs haphazardly in the front lawn still. This house still has the power to just knock me speechless. The camera moves around the outside of the house, peeling paint, old and disheveled Christmas wreath on the door. Julie sits in her car looking at it, thinking about home and entrapment and love and community.
Becky drives up to Luke's house at night. He's out back fixing a fence, forearms glistening in the hot night air. Now it is hot and summertime here in NYC so I appreciate these scenes of teens sweating in the night air... but it is Christmas-time, and even Texas isn't usually that hot at night at that time of year. Becky clearly has her speech rehearsed. She wants Luke to put the wrench down and listen to her. He drops it but complains that he is working. She launches into her story, she tells him that he has no idea how lonely she was living with her mother. She always felt like she was in the way. But then Tim moved in and he talked to her, and was a friend to her, and helped her, and was there for her when all that shit went down between her and Luke. "So, yeah, I loved him for that, and I put him on a pedestal for that. But that's not real. You are." Luke is not swayed by Becky's dramatic retelling of her crush on Tim Riggins. Also, it probably doesn't feel too good to be told that another man is your girl's fantasy, even if she's saying you are her reality. Who wants to be reality? Although it is true that early in our courtship, my husband told me that he loved me because I was practical, competent, and some other thing, and now look where we are! Happily in love, sitting next to one another on the couch (recliners are next, baby!). Luke tells her that what she just said "was real pretty, you should put that in a poem." She scoffs and then stomps off, yelling at him to go to hell.