all american dream

“What’s this I hear ‘bout Peachy Kennedy throwin’ a hissy fit like a little crybaby in the middle of town? And I missed the chance to witness that? What’d you do? What’s the secret?”

@owenheine·

“Maddie," Owen began, a quiet sigh leaving his lips. “Don't be too harsh on her.” He knew his sister meant well and that she only had his best intentions in mind, but that didn't diminish what he had done in the past. “Well, uh, she did end up winnin' my basket at the auction. And you can imagine how well that went down when she found out.”

“i think you’re wrong,” she stated, quickly adding, “sorry.” ( @frostfordstart· )

“For the millionth time,” Santiago paused, shaking his head. “the answer is no.” / @frostfordstart·

"C'mon bud, you won't even give it a try? Runnin' in the morning on my own isn't all that fun and Tuck's bailed on me twice now."

@owenheine

“Hey Owen, you busy? I’d like to get your take on somethin’, if you’ve got a few minutes.”

“Never too busy for a friend,” he replied, jogging across the short distance from where he was standing to Adam, a warm smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “What can I do for you?”

tuckgordon·:

The moment he heard Javi’s suggestion about taking his phone, Tuck shook his head ready to smack either one of them on the head. “Fle—” he couldn’t even finish the word as he turned to face Owen. He wasn’t sure if flexting really was a thing, one of the many Owen must’ve picked up from one of the high school kids or if he just made it up himself. He’d attempt to pass it off as something someone else said too. “Might be.”

“Didn’t you have a crush on her when we were like twenty-three?” Javi asked, vaguely remembering that time. So many things were different— he’d been married to Lemon, Owen was about to find out he was going to be a father. “Flexting is not a thing,” he shook his head. “That’s terrible. I never wanna do that.” 

( @owenheine· )  “I wanna start by sayin’ that I really appreciate you comin’ over to help me ‘cause these papers are kickin’ my ass. It’s really sweet of you and I know, from the bottom of my heart, that you really, really don’t have to and probably don’t even wanna, so it really does mean somethin’ to me that you come through so often. However, I wanna end by sayin’ that it’s dark outside, I woke up twenty minutes ago, and I already wanna take a shot before I even look at those papers again. So what m’saying is I think we should just do shots instead.”

“You don't need to thank me, honestly, it's my pleasure. Anything I can do to help.” He'd been working at the high school for years now and even Owen found himself overwhelmed on some occasions. “I know how it can get, it took me a while to find my footing. I still trip and stumble sometimes,” he joked lightheartedly, lifting his bag to place on top of the table. “Ah— well, in my professional opinion, I would advise against the shots. As a friend, however, I'd say whatever you need. Though, I would prefer if you'd eat something first. And I did come prepared,” he went on, pointing to the flask of coffee he'd brought with him, a small smile settling on his lips.

Peachy hadn’t wanted to come to the stupid auction in the first place; she couldn’t count on one hand how many hours she had spent just begging her mother to let her stay home. But Cherry Kennedy would have rather chewed off her own hand than have let her youngest daughter spend the night playing her cello - to let her pass up an opportunity to meet a nice young man to marry her off to. And while it made her sick to her stomach to think of marrying anyone.. A date hadn’t been the worst thing she could think of; a chance just to talk to somebody that wasn’t Andrew or Blue, or freakin’ Boone. Being faced with Owen, though? With the future that her sister had lost, and one of the people Peach had trusted most? It was just the icing on top of the cake that had the youngest Kennedy feeling like she was falling off of the edge of the Earth in a wave of anxiety. “I don’t want your stupid money, Owen Heine!” Peach bit through the chatter in her jaw, every ounce of her struggling to control the tears that were already spilling down her cheeks in a tidal wave. Surfaces cracking that she thought she had paved over the moment she had resigned herself to hate the man standing before her for the rest of eternity. “I want you to get the hell out of this town,” Peach growled, hating herself for feeling a twinge in her heart at the way he shielded her; the way he was still trying to protect her, even if she was intent on tearing him down. Hating herself for the way it just made her cry even harder; every pair of eyes that were trained on her be damned. “I don’t want to see your stupid face ever again,” The words felt like they were ripping through her throat, “And I want you to stop ruining everything!”  She was more mess than girl for a moment as she glared up at the man, hands pushing against his chest; a force of nature that went nowhere as Owen stood solid before her. Peachy’s resolve cracking so hard she was sure the whole room could hear. “You ruin everything, Owen! Everything.” 

He wasn't sure what to do, how to act. Every instinct in him was urging to bundle her up and take her far from prying eyes. She didn't seem to care that much now, not with her rage solely focused on him. Offering to pay her the money back was a bad idea, that was something he could add to the evergrowing list of situations where he should have known better. Should have done better.  

“I can't do that Peach, you know that.” Rationality was way out of the window at this point, but he tried to tether to a semblance of it. A feat that proved to be harder than he could imagine, especially when what little control she had over the downpour slipped away. The tears were flowing freely now, and with each one that rolled down her cheek, Owen felt his heart drop lower and lower until he was weighed down to the one spot where he was standing. Every so often his hands would rise as if to do something to comfort her until sense knocked back in, reminding him that if only seeing him resulted in that much pain for her, he would be wise not to make any physical contact.  

Again her fists collided against his chest, though Owen could barely register it. Not when her face was so open and so full of hurt. He would have rather taken the hits and the disapproving stares ten times over than having to look at the girl he once saw as a sister and know he was the cause of her pain. “I know, and I'm so sorry. I can't change what I did, I wish I could. But I can't.” Despite himself, his hands finally rose before falling on either of her shoulders. His movements cautious, gentle. “I know I didn't only hurt your sister by doing what I did back then.” He couldn't say her name, both from selfishness of the sting it left and the worry of how that might just be thing that sent Peach over the edge. “I can't even put into words how sorry I am. About all of it.” The life he could have had, the people he could have called family - all forceful reminders of just how big of a mess he had made pushed forward to the center of his mind. “I can't promise you what you want to hear, I won't lie to you and say you won't ever see my face again. I can't stand how I'm making you upset, and there's not much I wouldn't do to make that right if I could. But I can't uproot my life, Charlie's life, just to run from my mistakes.” That's what got him here in the first place. “I don't expect you to believe me, or for it to change anything because I deserve all that anger you've got harbored and then some, but I'm tryin' Peach. I've been tryin' to do better, to fix the damage I caused.”

tuckgordon·:

Tuck heard someone approaching but didn’t move his eyes away from his phone until he realized It was Owen. The words his friend said hardly registering in his mind as he was still distracted on his text. “Hmm?” He didn’t know if Owen was referring to the person next to him or someone else entirely.

“I think it’s just a game of chicken,” Javi said, thankful someone had interrupted whatever the fuck quiet game was happening. “He said something ridiculous, I told him he was right. He’s texting someone with fire emojis, though, take his phone let’s see.” 

Tuck was unresponsive for the most part, leaving Owen to turn to Javi when his friend broke the silence. “I'm not gonna take his phone,” he replied, shaking his head all while leaning over to glimpse at Tuck's screen. The first thing he noticed was the picture. Was that— “Brooke Parker? You're textin' Brooke? Or are you... what do the kids call it? Flexting?” He turned to Javi for confirmation as he continued. “You know, like flirting and texting?”

“Oh good god–” She’d walked around the corner and directly into Owen Heine and she was relieved she’d had the sense to put on her own clothes and not his for once. “You are most certainly not Chandler. Is he– is he here? Were y’all s’posed to meet? Should I be leavin’?” @owenheine·

This wasn’t awkward. At least that’s what Owen told himself when he had gotten over the initial shock of bumping into her. It wasn’t that it was Hazel in particular, if anything, he should have expected seeing her. He just wasn’t aware anyone else was at Chandler’s. “Sorry Hazel, I didn’t mean to give you a scare.” Or to disappoint. The words nearly fell from his lips but he swallowed them back, a faint smile lingering at the thought. “I picked up his keys from him on the way over, Charlie left her tablet here and she can’t function without it apparently. Of course you don’t have to leave, especially not on my account. I don’t think he’ll be long.”

@owenheine

“So, how’s the football team lookin’ this year, coach? Still getting distracted by the cheerleaders?” Aurora teased as she set her drink down on the bar and looked across to Owen. “I mean, when aren’t they?.”

“We’ve got an outstandin’ bunch, if I do say so myself. With the help of Boone, we’ll be well on our way to the big leagues.” Bringing his own bottle to his lips to conceal the chuckle that slipped out, Owen shook his head. “We’re makin’ sure they keep focused on the game. There’s no time for distractions on the field.”

closed starter for @owenheine·

“well, well, well,” she grinned, walking up to him, “if it ain’t the second hottest teacher in frostford. how’d our team do this year?”

“Hey, you’re on to something there. Witches are supposed to curse you. Whoever made up this legend kinda fucked it up. You don’t believe in ghosts at all? I wouldn’t say that too loud, that’s what the dude always says in the movie right before the ghost comes out to prove him wrong, and then they all die. I’m just sayin’ it’s bad karma.”

“Exactly my point. You see why I'm skeptical?” He asked with a low chuckle. “No, not at all. And in the case I am overheard and vengance is taken, at least I'll be proven wrong. Though I highly doubt any strange happenings will occur just because I said it. Or at all.” The mention of bad karma caused his smile to falter only for a second before it settled back into place. “I don't doubt I've got a lot of that comin' my way anyway.”

“I mean we are real idiots but I think it goes beyond just staying in this damn town.” Austin said shaking his head. The truth was he never really saw himself living anywhere else. Always figured he’d get married and have kids here and his kids would grow up like he did. “Is our habit being idiots?” Austin joked with a grin. With a haphazard shrug of his shoulders his nose wrinkles. “I mean I feel like I got more than enough time away from this place when I was serving and truth be told there wasn’t really anywhere else I wanted to be.” 

“Don't sugarcoat it on my behalf man, truly. I can handle it.” Owen joked, a chuckle escaping his lips. “I wouldn't rule it out, we are kind of idiotic. And I'm using ‘kind of’ lightly, but that's more on me than it is you bud. If it were a competition, I'd have the gold cup hands down.” It was all in good fun, the back and forth, though his expression grew solemn for a moment when Austin spoke about his time serving. He knew it wouldn't come without its struggles naturally, but Owen also knew Austin had faced more than his fair share when he was away. “Guess there's no place like home,” he mused before scrunching his face. “God, let's pretend I didn't just say that. In my defence, it was one of Charlie's favorites.” A white lie, given it was usually Owen who coaxed his daughter into watching the classics with him. “How's work been, anyway?”

tuckgordon·:

Tuck turned to look at Javi, deadpan expression then hit his shoulder back.

 Pulling out his phone, he sent Brooke a ‘how’s your day going?’ text.

This again. Javi raised his eyebrows, gaze dropping to Tuck’s phone. Frostfords baddest. Fire emojis. He pulled out his own phone, confused, and texted his ex-wife. ‘At the bar with Tuck. He’s not talking to me, but he is talking to an arsonist.’

Silence. Complete and utter silence was what Owen was met with when he approached the two men at the bar, the wide smile that was settled on his lips faltering in the slightest. He waited for either of them to say something, confusion sweeping across his features when they didn’t. Damn, was that a tumbleweed? “Are you two fighting or somethin’?”

“Felt more exciting this way,” Andrew joked, the smile not reaching his eyes. “But yeah, sure, I’d really appreciate the ride.” 

The thought of talking to Coach Heine and football and his skills was more anxiety-inducing than Coach finding him out here on the football field at midnight. He’d walked here, better for sneaking in so no one saw his car in the parking lot and wondered what he was doing. Andrew really had no nice reason to say no. No excuses. He’d backed himself into a corner. “There’s not much of a story, Coach, I don’t think you’re gonna be all that entertained.” He laughed. “Should I just meet you at your car then while you close up the field and lights and stuff?” 

“I think you'll surprise me either way,” Owen responded, an eased smile crossing his lips as he fished inside his pocket for his car keys. “Sounds like a plan. Here,” he began, holding the keys up to give Andrew a warning before he tossed them in his direction. “You touch anything and I'll know. Just let yourself in, it won't take me long.” He retreated a few steps backwards then, only turning once he'd lightly cautioned, “No funny business, Sterling.” Andrew had been something of a class clown when in high school, his tongue wagging often getting the better of him during class, but he was his best friends brother before he had been his student. There was a level of respect and trust there.  

True to his word, Owen took no longer than ten minutes to make sure everything was shutdown and securely locked before he made his way over to his truck. As expected, Andrew was waiting in the passenger seat when he climbed in, the friendly smile finding his lips again as he buckled in. “So, should I start with askin' about your studies or football? Because I'm keen to know how you got on with both.”