It all began on a hot summer night in Texas. It was hard to remember which one hot summer night it was, because all summer nights in Texas were hot. That's all people remembered about Texas anyway: how hot it was. Even at Thanksgiving and Christmas time, even when it was supposed to be cold, Texas was, without fail, one of the hottest places in the world. Lyla Garrity was used to the heat. After all, she'd never lived without it.

Lyla remembered the first time she'd visited Jason up north, her first trip to New York City. It was January or February; to say the least, the experience had been somewhat of an eye opener. "Guess I should have told you to bring your winter gear," Jay had joked, knowing full well that Lyla, a product of Dillon, Texas, was not even remotely likely to own so much as a heavy jacket. She remembered the way he had smiled at her, and for a moment, nothing had changed between them.

Jason's journey had taken him far from Texas, but Lyla liked to remember him the way he had been back on that summer night years ago. Of course, Lyla had known who he was before that night; he was Jason Street, QB1 of the Dillon Panthers, town hero, with dreams of playing college ball and going pro someday. Lyla knew enough to know that football players, especially football players with Jason's talent, could be jerks. But she also knew that Jason was as far from a jerk as a guy could get. He was a parent's dream, courteous and considerate to everyone who knew him. He was a leader; he inspired the people around him to become greater, and he constantly pushed himself to become a better person, on and off the field. He smiled a lot, laughed often. He was everyone's buddy; he made everybody feel special. Lyla also happened to know that he was single and that he was one of the cutest boys at Dillon High. Those last two things were things she'd only recently noticed, things that made her turn beet red whenever Jason happened to be around. Jason, cool as could be, treated her as he always had: with that constant flow of kindness and respect that one could always expect from him. In other words, he seemed to take no notice of Lyla Garrity.

So when Bella Wallace, captain of the Panthers' cheer squad, the squad Lyla had been dreaming of joining since she was six years old, asked her along to "this small get together" out by the river the Friday before school started, Lyla still didn't expect anything. Even though Bella was a junior, like Jason, and even though she knew for a fact that Bella and Jason were friendly and that Bella could put in a good word if necessary. Lyla had only seen Jason from afar, usually playing football or in front of a camera; she'd watched him time after time talking to her father, Buddy Garrity, the unofficial mascot of the Dillon Panthers, about some play or strategy. He was ever the gentleman; he never ignored her when chance brought them together. But Lyla could never quite get up the courage to speak to Jason Street, the legend of Dillon and the boy she hopelessly adored.

Bella had asked her over before the party, and while they giggled together and put on makeup, her new friend got directly to the point. "You like Jason."

Lyla nearly gagged over her lip gloss. "Excuse me?"

"You know it's true," accused Bella, pursing her lips and grinning a little. She stood behind Lyla, who sat in front of a mirror. Lyla looked up to find Bella staring at her reflection.

"I can see him liking you," she decided. "I can see it."

"Bella." Lyla knew her voice sounded weak, but the protest was worth a try. "Seriously. I'm not kidding you. There's no way Jason likes me…of all the girls…he's Jason Street…"

"I didn't say he likes you," Bella pointed out bluntly. "I just said it's a possibility. Now, are you going to coat your entire face in that stuff so poor Jason can't even see you? C'mon, Lyla, this is getting beyond the point of fashionably late. Let's go."

Lyla looked at her reflection one last time, her mind still on Jason Street. Then she followed Bella out of the room, her stomach churning in anticipation.

--

According to Lyla's Mickey Mouse watch, a gift from her dad for her twelfth birthday, it was approximately 7:47 P.M. when Bella's station wagon pulled into the parking lot next to the lake. The two girls got out of the car and made their way over to the somewhat large group of high school kids sitting on logs or lawn chairs, smoking a joint or drinking a beer. A lot of people hailed Bella as she approached the group; a few recognized Lyla. Quickly scanning the crowd, Lyla didn't see Jason anywhere. Somewhat disheartened, she turned to Bella, who said automatically, "Don't worry. He'll be here. I'll get us beers."

Her friend returned momentarily, pressing the icy cold beverage into her hand. It felt good to hold, and Lyla was sure it would feel even better sliding down her throat. Even as the sun was about to set, Texas could be just as terribly hot as it was in the middle of the day. It was only in the dead of night that the temperature dropped to what felt like subzero. Lyla found herself wishing she'd brought her jacket; she had no idea how long Bella would make her stay. The wind off the lake could make those subzero temperatures even worse. She turned to Bella again to say something, but she was interrupted this time by a tall boy with jet black hair. Lyla wasn't quite sure where he'd come from.

"Lyla, Vic Thompson," said Bella quickly, "Vic, Lyla Garrity."

"Buddy's daughter?" the boy, Vic, asked Bella.

"Yeah, she'll be a freshman," Bella answered.

Vic looked uncomfortably between the two of them. "I thought you were supposed to come to the party with me!" Vic exclaimed to Bella indignantly, after a pregnant pause.

"Yeah, well, I didn't, did I?" snapped Bella in return. "Maybe, Vic, I decided that I was done with your cheating and your lying, and that I wanted to go to a party to enjoy myself, and not worry about you and who you're with and what you're doing. It's enough to drive anyone crazy!"

"Babe, calm down," said Vic rather roughly. "I don't even know where you're getting all this stuff from! I've never lied to you! Haven't we been over this?"

"Oh, please, Vic," groaned Bella, and it was at this point that Lyla Garrity began to feel very awkward.

"Is this about Allison?" asked Vic, his voice rising. By this point, both of them had totally forgotten about Lyla. "Because I swear, nothing happened, we were just talking and it looked like something had happened, but I promise you, nothing did."

"How many times have I heard that line?" cried Bella. She was so angry that the shade of her face matched the auburn of her hair. Lyla began to edge toward the group of seniors sitting around the bonfires, throwing back can after can. She tossed her own can, still unopened, on the ground in a mixture of shame and anger. She wondered why Bella had given it to her in the first place.

"Apparently, I haven't said it enough," Vic retorted nastily. "I just don't get how you can be so thick, Bella. All I really want is for you just to be chill and stop pulling all this shit on me; it's so—"

"Listen, guys," Lyla cut in, "I think I'm going to head over there. I…I…well, I just…" She glanced anxiously toward the black lake, as if it would give her an excuse.

"…said you'd meet me here," came a strong, steady voice from seemingly nowhere. Lyla didn't even need to turn around to see that it was Jason Street standing behind her. "Glad to see y'all," Jason went on, clapping Vic on the shoulder and smiling at Bella. "I just came over to…well, I'm just gonna steal Lyla away for a bit, if you don't mind." He looked at everyone innocently, as though he were interrupting an ordinary conversation.

Lyla gaped at him in amazement as both Bella and Vic nodded their assent and promptly continued arguing. Meanwhile Jason Street took her arm and together they walked into the trees that led directly to the lake. It was uncanny, because that was exactly where Lyla had wanted to go after all. She was conscious of Jason's hand touching her arm as they walked away from the crowd and toward the lake. It was as if everything was happening too fast and too slow, all at the same time.

When they stopped at the shores of the lake, where the noises of the party were a distant and fading memory, Lyla said the first thing that came to her mind. "You don't like these parties very much, do you?"

To her surprise, Jason took a long time to consider this.

"I don't have an answer for you," he said finally. "I feel as though I ought to go, so people around here still like me. I don't want to seem…"

"…too good for the room," Lyla finished, and Jason nodded. They stood at the dock right now, and Jason had let go of her arm.

"But if I enjoy these parties, well, that's only some of the time," Jason went on. "If they involve everybody in a drunken stupor making idiots out of themselves, then no, I can't say I enjoy them too much. But, say, if Tim Riggins shows up, then it's not so bad."

"Tim Riggins?" Lyla couldn't have thought of a more unlikely pair. "The Tim Riggins?"

"The very same," said Jason. "You ought to know him better than I; you guys are in the same class."

Almost touched, Lyla said, "You know what class I'm in."

Jason laughed, somewhat embarrassed, and for a moment, he flexed his wrist as though he was going to take her hand. But then the moment passed and he said, "I know what you know about Timmy, and a lot of it is probably true. But give him a chance, Lyla. I bet he'll really surprise you one day."

Lyla laughed too. Tim Riggins was one of those boys her daddy had warned her to stay far away from. She doubted that Jason could know anything about Tim Riggins that all the fathers with daughters in Dillon didn't know. But she was too happy to be alone with Jason, Jason who tonight had finally singled her out above all others, to even care about someone as insignificant as Tim Riggins. Her heart thumping, she turned and looked at him for the first time all night. Jason Street looked back at her; he smiled, and from that moment on, Lyla Garrity was in love.

--

Lyla didn't see Jason again until Sunday. The Streets and the Garritys attended the same Baptist church; it was the same church that everyone in Dillon attended. The service was long and full of passionate rhetoric and gospel music, same as always. After the service, Lyla's daddy took a long time getting out of the church, chatting everybody up about town happenings and of course, Panther football. At one point, she saw her parents talking to Mr. and Mrs. Street; they were smiling at something her father had said. Meanwhile, her mother was across the parking lot, talking to Mrs. Taylor, the offensive coach's wife. Her little brother Buddy Jr. tugged on the hem of her dress, asking when they were going to leave. Lyla told him to hush, as she had been wondering the same thing herself. She turned on her heel, with the intention of joining her mother's conversation, and collided head-on with none other than Jason Street. For a moment, they both stared at one another. Jason and Lyla had spent nearly all night talking by the lake that Friday, so long that Bella had left without her. They talked about everything: their families, their interests, Lyla's desire to be a cheerleader, Jason's dreams of making something big of himself outside of Dillon. The next time Lyla checked her Mickey Mouse watch, it was 12:30 A.M. Almost as horrified as she was, Jason drove her home and insisted on coming inside with her to apologize for being out so late. With Jason by her side, all traces of anger evaporated from her parents' faces—at least from her father's anyway. Waking up the next day, though, it had all seemed like a dream. Especially when he didn't call. She had really thought he would have called. Looking at him now, she didn't know whether to be angry or not. Maybe the whole thing didn't mean as much to him as it did to her. He was a football player after all; he was QB1, Jason Street, and she was just Lyla Garrity.

"Lyla. I'm so sorry," said Jason immediately, pulling her out of her reverie. She could tell he felt a little embarrassed. "Are you okay? That was totally my bad. Does anything hurt?"

"Jason," she said, relishing the sound of that perfect name on her lips, "please don't worry about it. It was kind of my fault…I turned sort of suddenly and…" She looked up at him to find that he wasn't listening. He was staring.

"Lyla," Jason said, and there was reverence in his voice. It took Lyla's breath away to see him looking at her like that. She could stay like that forever.

"Listen," Jason went on, somewhat hesitantly, "I had a great time with you the other night. A really great time. And I know it's crazy, but…"

"Jason!" cried the voice of Buddy Garrity, cutting in on their conversation. Lyla's dad waltzed over to the two of them, and beamingly laid a hand on his daughter's shoulder. "You talkin' to our QB1, baby? Jason had a great practice yesterday, didn't ya, Jason? This boy's gonna be a star, let me tell you. Now, Jason, I remember Coach told you about that split formation, but I think I got a better idea…"

Jason's handsome features fell somewhat, but true to form, he listened politely, nodding and smiling and saying, "Yes, sir," when Buddy paused for air. Lyla could tell he was almost as bored as she was. Her daddy waxed not so eloquent on the upcoming season, the strengths and weaknesses of every starter, the opening game against Arnett Mead. Lyla felt frustration gnawing in her stomach as her father went on and on, and on and on.

"Jason." Lyla turned to find Mr. and Mrs. Street standing behind her. "I think it's time we headed home," said Mr. Street, quickly assessing the situation. "Your mama's got a big brunch for us, son."

"Okay, Dad," said Jason, looking perhaps a bit relieved. He held out his hand, which Lyla's dad shook enthusiastically. "Well, nice talking to you, Mr. Garrity," he continued politely. His eyes were regretful as they rested on Lyla. He opened his mouth to say something to her, but seemingly decided against it. Jason Street looked at Lyla Garrity for a long moment, and then he said:

"Bye, Lyla."

"Bye, Jason," she said in reply, and she watched him walk away without a word.