"Bill. Night before last, I had to bury my bloody clothes because I didn't want my grandmother to find out I was almost killed. And tonight I was almost killed again. Why on earth would I continue seeing you?" Bill comes up the stairs, bearing down on her with his eyes, manipulative and scared and mean: "Because you will never find a human man you can be yourself with." She shakes her head and turns to go, and he tries to stop her. "Suckie..." She whirls, and tells him not to touch her. "Just go, please." She closes the door in his face, and he breathes, and continues to be menacing and creepy and dumb. I don't know guys, maybe he really is in love with her.
Sam and Tara have moved to the porch for drink #2, and Sam finally asks why she's not going home. "This right here," she says, and he laughs, confused. "My mama's a drunk. Not just a slurs-her-words drunk, a waking-up-in-her-own-vomit kind of drunk." Your mom's a college freshman? Don't worry about it! "I just can't be around her when she's gone like that... I know she may end up dying... Lighting herself on fire with a lit cigarette... but I can't. I won't." She laughs awkwardly and points out that guilt compounds the horror of the situation in the first place. He asks why she doesn't get her own place and she flips it on him, as usual, like a ninja: "Why don't you give me a raise?" They laugh as though this is a conversation they've had a million times before, even though he hired her ... two shifts ago? Sam asks if Mama's ever tried AA, and Tara's awesome: "She doesn't need AA, Sam, she's got Jesus." He's like, Gotcha. I think this is the moment Tara decides to fuck him. It'll take her an hour to get there, but she's sure. Being Tara Thornton is like being a woman, too.
She asks permission to ask him a personal question, and he charmingly downs his drink before allowing it. "Are you lonely?" Man! You know who needs a little Jesus? Tara. Girl's not right. "...Yes. I am, I am very... very lonely." He is; it's written all over his gorgeous furry face. "How come you don't have a girlfriend?" He laughs, but she's serious: "You're hot, you have a job, you're not a serial killer..." (OR IS HE? HE OWNS GLOVES.) Sam asks her, then, why she doesn't have a boyfriend. This is like watching tennis, only the people are naked. She arbitrarily decides that we're only talking about Sam's life right now, and he looks out into the night. "Yeah, well... I have a hard time opening up, that's all." Tara asks a rhetorical question: "Please, what have you got to hide that's so fucking bad --" he looks at her sharply, taking it let's say less-than-rhetorically, "-- in this fucking town?" But that's not her burden, it's his, and he reiterates he's not going to open up.