Summary: After a drunken mistake, Ally Dawson finds herself wondering who her first kiss was, only knowing that it was only plausible that he, her first kiss, is a blond. Undecided pairing, one-shot, AU. Gift Fic for hetheillest.
A/N: This one-shot was inspired by a question hetheillest asked on twitter around a month ago, and left me contemplating... (By the way, while you're at it, read her story, 'Like a Playboy!', if you haven't, yet! ;)) And thus this story was born. (This has got to be the longest one-shot I've ever written...) Another awesome news: We official have 1000 stories in the Austin & Ally Fanfiction archive, and in less than one year! Isn't that awesome! (And I'm pretty sure this is the 1000th fanfic! ;) I worked on this one-shot for one week straight. I'm proud of how it ended.)
In addition, this story is dedicated to hetheillest for her birthday July 17 (I meant to post it that day... but the one-shot got way too long... If you're reading this, hetheillest, you better be grateful! I'm kidding, haha! I would have done if for you either way! ;) But, this is my gift. :3). Happy (belated) Birthday! :3 (The big sixteen!) Go wish hetheillest a 'happy (belated) birthday' (on fanfic, or twitter!)! :D
This might be a little confusing, so you can just ask me in a PM, in a review, or on Twitter. I basically only have two ways of contacting me: Twitter or Fanfiction (and email... but I rarely check my emails... haha.).
Warnings: OOC, not beta'd (I horribly edited it by myself... as if someone would like to read a 20+ paged one-shot! I was driving myself crazy proof-reading this myself. I'll re-edit it later, when I have the time; I just wanted to get this story published quickly for hetheillest – I've been postponing it for a week now... A week late birthday present. -_-), light swearing, etc.
Disclaimer: I do not own Austin & Ally. :/
The Two Blonds of My Life
One-shot
(Gift Fic For: hetheillest)
By KairiR5
Ally
If I were to tell you about a sixteen-year-old girl who has never been in a steady relationship, or never had a boyfriend, would you laugh?
Would you laugh even more if I told you that that particular girl never had her first kiss?
And what if I told you that the same girl I'm mentioning is me?
Well, prepare to have a laugh attack, because all those statements reign true, and are all about me...
:::
I eyed the two blonds in front of me with wide eyes. They stared me down, the same confused expressions plastered on their faces. I could have sworn then and there that they were twins, if not related by blood of some sort, if I had not spent time with them each of them, separately, for the past few weeks.
I was torn between the two. They were both equally qualified to be my kisser, both in looks and in personality, with huge differences here and there.
But, at that moment, my head swirled with various questions, some that were somewhat – that goes something – like this:
How did this all happen?
When did this all happen?
How did this get so out of hand?
Who is my kisser?
Well, let me tell you a very interesting story of how this came to be.
It all started one Monday, late summer. I was in Sonic Boom when this all happened.
School was about to begin soon, and I haven't gotten used to Miami, even though I've been here for almost a month now...
Last year, I was living with my mom in Manhattan, New York. My parents had divorced when I was seven, due to the incompatibility between my two parents, and I was sent to live with my mom for the time being. This year, I turned sixteen, and my parents decided to send me to live with my dad in Miami. I had just returned to Miami (where I was born and raised for the first seven years of my life) this summer, and I have decided help my dad regularly with his store, Sonic Boom.
"Ally!" a voice exclaims from the entrance. I look up from the book I'm reading and quirk an eyebrow at her happy demeanor.
"And 'hello' to you, too, Trish." Trish and I went way back. We were best friends in kindergarten and we were inseparable, that was until I turned seven and my mom demanded I lived with her in New York instead of with my dad in Miami. When she found out, Trish was angry to know that I had to leave, but that was nine years ago. When I came back to Miami this summer, she was the first to greet me and give me a big hug.
It wasn't that hard for us to reconcile our friendship. Needless to say, after a day or so in her presence, I felt more comfortable with my appearance in Miami, as well our friendship being renewed as strong as it was before, if not stronger.
To say that my relationship with my dad was awkward would be an understatement. I loved my dad, and my dad loved me, but it was a bit awkward for us now. I haven't seen or heard from him in nine years, excluding the distant phone calls here and there to wish me a 'happy birthday' or any other happy holiday occasions. But, I knew that, with time, our bond would grow to be strong...
...Just not at the moment – just not too soon. (I couldn't handle the fact that he divorced my mom, and left me without a father for more than half of my life. He never thought about me, and my needs, but instead, put his needs before mine, and left me... I know that I could reconcile with my dad, time heals all wounds, after all, but it's just too soon for that to happen...)
"Guess what!" she goes on to say, as if she had not heard my earlier statement. I smile slightly to myself, deciding to play along to her little game.
"Let me guess, you got a new job?" It wasn't much of a surprise, with Trish getting a new job everyday (I learned this fact really quickly... The first day I was here, she was already sporting a tennis uniform, and then the next, she, apparently, was working in the surf shop), but who knows? Trish can do the unexpected (like keeping a job for a full week.). Stranger things have happened in the past.
"No - but, oooh... that reminds me... I wonder if Zinga's (1.)hiring because I would totally-"
"Trish?"
"Oh, yeah! Riiight. Carry on." She ushered for me to continue with her hands, and I tap my chin in thought.
"No homework?" She scoffed.
"Oh, please! Even if there were homework, I wouldn't even do it! You should know me better! We are best friends, and have been since kindergarten, after all!" I roll my eyes at her dramatic act.
"What, then, oh best friend?" I mocked, mirroring her dramatic display. The Latina was practically bouncing un excitement by the time I asked her this particular question.
"Dylan's hosting a party at his house on Friday, and everyone's invited! It's like a 'welcome back to school' sort of thing." I sighed and turned away, returning to my book nonchalantly, as if I had not heard Trish's exclamation.
"Okay," I murmured dully without any care in the world. "That's great!" I exclaim with fake enthusiasm, which I could tell that she did not accept.
"Allllly!" My eyes strayed off the pages of my book and to my best friend, who was practically mocking me with her facial expression, filled with excitement. Unlike Trish, I was filled with weariness.
"Huh?"
"You're coming to the party, right?" I look at her, before returning to my book.
"No," I told her simply, not caring to offer her an explanation.
"What?"
"No," I reiterate, with more emphasis. Suddenly, she looked appalled.
"What? Why?" I close my book and go around the counter and begin to open the cardboard boxes filled with instruments to stock the inventory, while Trish trails me anxiously, demanding answers.
"First of all, I don't know who this 'Dylan' guy is, and I'm sure he's nice and all, but as of now, he's a stranger to me. And, second of all, I don't like parties. Besides, you know I only go to one party a year."
"But Ally...! Everyone's going to be there! Besides, the party you're mentioning is the back to school party hosted by the school, and only teachers attend those parties! No student ever attends that! Well... at least no cool student attends those. Students only attend parties that other student throw! That's the cool thing!" I sighed.
"I do, Trish." She sent me a sheepish smile, as if apologizing for her previous words. "And besides... you should understand. I don't have the time with school, homework, and my daily shifts at Sonic Boom. And besides, do I really need to go to the party? Nobody would even care if I went, or if I didn't. No one even knows me, besides you, that is."
"I would!" I smile to myself. That was sweet of Trish to say that. It meant that she cared, but it wasn't enough to change my decision.
"My answer is still 'no'."
"Ally!" she whined. I frowned. "You have to go! If you go, you won't be known as the girl, in our grade, who attends only one party a year. We're going to be sophomores, and this is your first time back in Miami!" I bit my lip in thought.
She had a good point. My perseverance was wavering slightly to her objection.
As if she could read my mind, Trish grinned, and began to name off the other benefits of attending the party at Dylan's.
"It'll be fun~!" she sang-sung. I press my lip into a thin line.
Fun. I needed some fun in my life with the stress I'm going through. Maybe, just maybe, she had a point...
"My answer still stands," I mutter, lacking fight. She frowned, noticing my stubborn answer, before snapping her fingers excitedly.
"You know, you can be reacquainted with some old friends. And, more importantly, there will be a lot of cute boys there~!" By this point, I was practically wavering to her will. That's a good point. Lots of people will attend this party, and I can get to know more people besides Trish, my best and only friend... In addition, I need someone to take my mind of off this stress... maybe a boy will do.
One more push. One more push and I'll defiantly be swayed to attend the party. As if she was some sort of mind reader, the Latina added the best argument so far.
"You could get your first kiss."
"Okay," I found myself agreeing to her invitation the second she finished her debate, sighing in resignation. I never had my first kiss, so maybe this was my time.
And that's how I was convinced to attend the party.
"You're beautiful. So beautiful," he whispered into my ear. "I want to kiss you."
"Then kiss me," I whisper back, provoking him. He kisses my ear.
"Oh... you shouldn't have said that..." And then it happened. His lips descended on mine, and everything else was forgotten in its wake.
I remember he was tall. I remember his tall frame leaning over me. I remember him leaning towards me and kissing me. I remember his lips, oh those lips. I remember as he kissed me, I felt fireworks explode inside me, making me feel all giddy inside.
I remember the pressure applied to my lips before they faded into utter bliss.
...
I felt like I was floating on air. I felt like I was on cloud nine. I felt the happiest I could be.
I felt... satisfied.
I felt... peaceful, as if I reached my inner nirvana.
Suddenly, I felt like someone was shaking me, disrupting my inner nirvana, shaking me awake.
'Where am I?' my mind echoed as soon as I regained consciousness.
My eyes fluttered open with a dazed look, and I met the gaze of a brunette with long curly hair, and dark brown eyes. I acknowledged her with a glazed expression.
"Trish?" I mumbled, feeling off. My head was pounding for some strange reason, and I felt and ache coming from my skull.
"Ally," she says (or was that asked? I couldn't tell; I was half awake, half asleep...), a little to loudly, increasing the pain pounding in my head.
"Where am I?" I weakly asked, demanding some answers.
"At your house; I brought you here."
"What about Dad?" I whisper, bring the pitch of my voice lower than I normally talk.
"He was at your house, but by the time we go home, he was fast asleep." I was relieved. But that brings me to my next question.
"When did we get home?" She looked worried, I could tell, with her wringing the cloth of her shirt, nervously.
"Eleven... Midnight... maybe even one o'clock in the morning..."
Huh? That late...? Why?
"What happened last night?" I manage to strangle out, despite my inner pain, ignoring the fact that we got home so late.
"Last night we went to the party," she reminded me. Her voice was a little loud, and my head pounded even more.
"No, why is my head pounding like crazy?" I choked out, ignoring the searing pain pulsing throughout my body as my voice increased in volume.
"The fruit punch was spiked." My eyes bugged out in surprise, and I was taken aback.
"Wha-? Ow!" My cringed in pain and clutched my head in my hands, nursing it tenderly, all the while, the same sentence was set on replay in my head.
The... t-the fruit punch was sp-spiked...?
The fruit punch was spiked...
The fruit punch was spiked!
"Here," the Latina offered, handing me a couple pills of Tylenol and a glass of water. I took them gratefully and proceeded to gulp down the contents. "Better?" she asked.
"Much," I supplied, feeling grim. The pounding in my head was still there, just a little more decreased. And then the situation hit me again, with cold realization.
The... t-the fruit punch was sp-spiked...?
The fruit punch was spiked...
The fruit punch was spiked!
I mouthed the same sentence over and over again, feeling the impact of the statement hitting me. I was panicking, and I couldn't do anything to stop it.
"The fruit punch was spiked," I said, deadpan. "Oh my God," I whispered, numb. 'Panic. Panic. Panic.' My brain alerted my body.
Mental note to self: Never go to another party your best friend, Trish, suggests. You'll only end in pain, with the pounding headache and all. And, most importantly, you'll end up regretting it the most. Example: present-day situation.
"Calm down, Ally!" begged my friend. By this point, I was hyperventilating, and I hadn't realized I was.
The pounding in my head from the hangover dulls in comparison to what I'm going through at the moment.
"Trish!" I bit out. "The fruit punch was spiked! I just got drunk! Who knows what happened yesterday! I just got drunk!" I repeat with worry laced in my voice. "This is the first time I got drunk! I'm underaged! My dad's going to kill me!" I knew I was rambling, but c'mon! This is a very important situation, and I think I could ramble just about... now!
"Ally!" she reiterates, putting her hands on my shoulders.
"I'm never going to another party, especially one that you suggest I attend!" I tell her. "And how come you're head isn't pounding when mine is? You knew the fruit punch was spiked and you let me drink it! Trish!"
"Ally, please calm down." Her voice is soothing. My chest expands and contracts with each of my intake of breathe. My eyes shut close tightly and I take a chunk of my chestnut hair into my mouth.
In a matter of minutes, I am calm once more. My eyes open and lock into Trish's figure.
"Trish," I address. She quirks an eyebrow.
"You calm now?" I think I am.
"Yeah." She smiled and asked,
"What is it, then?" I took a deep breath, preparing myself to ask this question.
"What happened last night at Dylan's party? I want answers, and I want the truth." I mentally brace myself for her reply.
"Like I said, the fruit punch was spiked." I inhaled sharply. Even after being told this twice, and even though this was old news, I was still caught off guard.
"Okay, I know that," I whisper. Surprisingly, I took the news of my drunken state calm and collected, well, more so than I thought I would. She continued on to say,
"I didn't have any fruit punch... well... I did, but not too much. And even if I did, I would be used to it, because I have a high tolerance for alcohol. It wasn't even that strong Ally. You probably have a low tolerance for alcohol. And I didn't know that the punch was spiked, or else I would have told you."
"That's unfair," I pouted.
"Life's not fair," she shot back with the beginnings of a smile. "Anyways, there was a lot of dancing and music played, and you, unfortunately, was one of those dancers." I hung my head in shame. I had the urge to ask this next question.
"Was... was I bad?" I questioned, even though I knew the answer to that particular question. She sighed, pausing for a brief moment, sending me a sympathetic look.
"Yup..." I covered my eyes in embarrassment. I wasn't a good dancer. I knew that, and accepted that fact, but that didn't mean I was happy with my nonexistent "dancing skills". "But don't worry! Most people were drunk, drunker than you were, and they, probably, don't remember anything about the party, including you and you're horrible dancing." I press my lips into a thin line and lift my head to lock eyes with her.
"See? I don't see how that party was beneficial. I told you parties were horrible, or at least parties and I aren't compatible! Next time you beg and ask me to come, I'll go ahead and tell you in advance: 'no'. And that's my final answer. And because you're going to ask and beg me to change my mind: 'no'." I could see that Trish was scrambling for an objection.
"H-hey! Not everything was a bust! At least you got one benefit out of this party!"
"Care to enlighten me," I mutter dryly, demanding her more so than asking. She was bouncing in excitement now.
"You got your first kiss!" I rolled my eyes.
"Sure, I got my... m-my first... ki-kiss...?" I repeat, shock echoing in my voice. My eyes searched her face for a confirmation, and Trish nodded in response.
I got my first kiss...
I got my first kiss.
I got my first kiss!
"I got my first kiss..." I whisper, choking out that sentence. "I got my first kiss... I got my first kiss!" I exclaim excitedly when realization dawns on me – when the words finally make sense to me.
Trish grins.
"That was all you were practically mumbling in your sleep (2.). 'Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.'" She was trying to make her voice as pitched as mines is.
"I don't talk in my sl-" And then I froze.
...I can't remember!
I can't remember!
"Ally~!" she sang, and I remained frozen. "Ally~! I wasn't by your side the whole time when this was happening, so spill! What's his name? What does he look like? Is he hot? Is he cute? Is he sexy? Is he in our grade? Is he tall? Is h-?"
"Trish..." I whisper, horrified, snapping out of my haze. "I can't remember his name." She looked confused.
"Whose?"
"My kisser's." She scoffed.
"Don't be silly! You can't forget the name of your first kiss! And besides, you're Ally Dawson! You don't forget anything. I mean, you have like... the best memory ever! You remember everything that's happened in your life, the answers to a test question, etc. So stop joking around, Ally! No offense, but your jokes are not funny... So, let's hear it. Spill~!" I bit my lip painfully before responding.
"But the thing is... I forgot!" I shout. The pounding in my head from the hangover returns with vigor, ten times more painful than before.
But, the thing is... I don't understand why I'm acting this way...
It's just a kiss!
'But it's your first kiss, and you liked it, a lot,' a voice echoes inside my mind, causing me to panic more than I was as the moment.
"...You... you actually forgot?" Trish asks, her eyes wide in surprise. I nod, and bite my lip in worry, gnawing on it like my life depended on it.
"I did... I did... I did..." Trish places her hands on my shoulders once more, pacifying me.
"Okay, okay," my best friend says, taking the situation into her hands. "Let's calm down and take this situation in logically." I nod and agree with her for once.
"Okay, okay..." I mutter, agreeing with her.
"What do you remember?" I close my eyes, trying to recall as much as I could.
...Tall stature...
...Lips...His Lips...
...Lust-filled eyes...
...The fireworks...
...The explosions...
...That earth-shattering kiss...
"I can't remember what he looks like," I choke out. "All I remember is his pink lips and his tall frame..." 'And the feelings that went along with the kiss...'
Now I finally understood why I wanted – want – to know his identity ('Want, want, want.'). He was my first kiss, but that wasn't all. I wanted to feel the fireworks and explosions going off inside me, again.
I want to feel that feeling I felt with him around, that I felt when his lips touched mine ('So good. So good.'). That earth-shattering kiss is my demise.
I wanted those hungry, lusty eyes on me, demanding to devour me upon sight.
I want to feel wanted around him.
I want to feel as loved as I was with him.
I want him.
He made me feel fireworks and explosions inside me. He made me feel important. He made me feel wanted. He made me feel loved.
We need to find him. I need to know who he his.
Those fireworks that exploded inside me... I want to know who caused that reaction inside me.
"Oh yeah!" Trish exclaims, excitement practically bouncing off her body.
"What?" I ask, begging for some answers.
"I remember you were mumbling in your sleep about 'blond'... 'blond'... Therefore..."
"...He must be a blond!" I exclaim, excitedly, ignoring the fact that she said I talk in my sleep (which I do not!). This is my first clue about my mysterious kisser. "Did I say anything else?" I ask, desperate for more answers.
She scrunched up her face in thought. Her face was contort in concentration.
"No... no, all you just said was 'kiss' and 'blond', 'my blond'. Haha." I pout, ignoring her teasing ('I like the sound of that. 'My blond'. I could get used to that...').
"Wait." I furrow my eyebrows, squeezing my eyes shut.
I dreamt of this situation this morning. I dreamt of the party, of him. If only I could remember clearly... My eyes fluttered open abruptly.
"I remember now! He has blond hair and dark eyes!" Trish nodded, soaking the information up like a sponge in water.
"Okay. That's good! That's a good clue to have! But, now that question is: 'How many blond haired dark eyed guys are in this school?'" the Latina asked. I thought, trying to count the number of blonds in our school.
"I don't know," I answer her truthfully.
"Let's make a list, alright? And on Monday, we could find your mystery kisser."
"Okay," I breathed out.
After all, there's nothing to worry about, right? There are only a few blonds in this school, right? Until we find my mystery kisser, I could ponder about his appearance, and what he looks like.
"I checked the school's buddy page (3.), and I scrolled through the friend's list," Trish started, "And I searched for images of dark eyed blond hair boys, and made up a list." She shrugged. "I thought there would be more blond haired dark eyed boys, but I came up with a couple of names, surprisingly."
"Wow, Trish," I said in awe. "You're actually doing work?" I teased.
"Hey," she said in mock hurt. "That hurts my feelings." I rolled my eyes.
She is such a drama queen, but I loved her for it, and I wouldn't have her any other way.
"No, but seriously, Ally, I'm your best friend. I would help you with anything." I smile at her, feeling my love for her increase. "Besides, I kinda got you in this situation when I had you go to the party. And you know, you honestly need a boyfriend. I mean, c'mon! You said that in middle school, you were hung over Dallas. I remember you texting and calling me about him, muttering about ways to "get him to like me" and other such things that relate to getting Dallas. It's only been recently that your crush for him faded, at least, that's what you said, and thank God for that! You were honestly acting like a fool in front of him, and I wasn't sure if I could stand you drooling over him like some lost puppy any longer. That's why you need to find your kisser. Maybe you can go goo-goo eyes over him when we find his identity."
I sighed in resignation, but a smile tinted my lips.
"That was puppy love, Trish. And besides, that was middle school, three, four years ago; we're sophomores now." She rolled her eyes.
"Okay, whatever. But seriously, we're going to find your kisser."
"Let me see the list," I said. She handed me the notepad with the several names on it.
Ally's Possible Mystery Kisser:
Mark Smith.
Ross Lynch.
James White.
Nathan Johnson.
Austin Moon.
Adrian Jackson.
Tim Masen.
Logan Jordan.
Danny Newton.
Ryan Chris.
My eyes widened in surprise.
"Who are they?" I asked, feeling a sense of excitement coursing through my body. The simple letters on the page that formed their names transfixed me.
There was a huge possibility that one of them was my kisser (No, I was sure one of them was my kisser. Sure.). And that meant that one of them caused those reactions to occur inside me.
"I don't know... Our school is huge... remember? Even if we were popular, we wouldn't be able to know everyone's name. There had got to be over a thousand kids attending Miami High."
I nodded at her simple logic.
She's right.
"However, I do know that they're all in our year, sophomore." That's interesting... I look down, intent on wringing my shirt out in my anxiety, and was taken aback by the large hoodie that I adorned, instead of the top I wore last night.
Strange.
It isn't mine; I don't own a hoodie, let alone, wear one... It must be my kisser's, because I defiantly don't have such a huge frame that the hoodie hangs off my small frame.
"Looks like we have another clue," Trish supplied, noticing my transfixed gaze on the hoodie I was sporting. The clues are piecing together.
"Yeah..."
"Oh yeah!"
"What is it, Trish?"
"I have an idea. Let's search their names on buddy page for their pictures. Maybe when you see their faces, you'll recognize who you kissed last night!"
"That's a great idea, Trish!" I complimented.
"I know." She grinned. "But, thank you, thank you." I rolled my eyes, knowing that I just boosted her ego once more.
"I haven't seen their profile pictures, yet; only their names... so I have no idea how they look. Don't be disappointed by their appearances, Ally," teased my friend.
"I know, I know," I grumbled light heartedly. I wouldn't judge. I strictly followed this concept: 'Don't judge a book by its cover.'
:::
Trish and I spent the next few hours depicturing who could be my possible kisser. We eliminated some names, such as Mark Smith, James White, Nathan Johnson, Adrian Jackson, and Tim Masen, by using the clues I pitched in.
"How about Danny Newton?" I observed his picture, eyeing it intently.
"No," I said. "He's too short. The guy I kissed was taller than he was, about six foot tall (4.)... And I could only reach his shoulders, or neck, when I stood next to him." I could remember that much, despite my drunken state. Trish nodded and typed in another name in the keyboard.
Those were some of the (many) objections (excuses) I used to depicture my kisser.
They were either too short, too tall, had long hair, had short hair, had glasses, he wasn't single, etc.
"Ryan Chris?" my friend asked. I looked at him.
"Nope. He has glasses. My kisser didn't have glasses."
"Logan Jordan?"
"He's not single. He's in a relationship. He can't be my kisser." My kisser wouldn't be a cheater. For one thing, I know that he's single (Why would he kiss me, if he weren't single? ...Unless he was a playboy or a cheater...). Besides, I just have his feeling that he's not the type of guy to cheat on another girl.
"Hmm..." And then the next picture had me mesmerized.
"What about Austin Moon?" I was transfixed by his profile image.
Austin Moon.
Austin was tall, just like my kisser. He had beautiful dirty blond hair that was the perfect length, like my kisser. His coca brown eyes were mesmerizing and kind. He had a great smile as well. He was so cute. (He looked like Ralphy Hayes, though... but I knew he wasn't Ralphy Hayes, 'cause Ralphy is a brunette, and his hair is styled differently than Austin.)
But his lips... they were inviting me to kiss them...
Could he be my kisser?
"Trish... I think he could be my kisser." I look over the image once more. "No, I think he's my kisser!"
"Whoa, whoa, wait," the Latina exclaimed. "You think he's you're kisser? Are you sure?"
"Yeah..." I whispered, dazed, unable to say anything more coherent. He was so... beautiful.
I was almost positive that he was the kisser.
"But wait... there's one more name on the list." I look at her, confusion etched all over my face.
"But I found my kisser... I don't think... I don't doubt it."
"You positive?" I was hesitating now. She made me actually hesitate and think this through.
"...Okay... Maybe we should look over his image, just to confirm my suspicions." Trish nodded at my good decision.
"Good choice." She typed the last name in the search engine, and my eyes widened in surprise as soon as my eyes descended on the image.
"...Wha-?" I choke out. "What? How could this be...?"
"...Oh man... they look the same," my best friend observed. I nodded, numbly.
Ross Lynch.
Ross was just as tall as Austin is, if not taller. He has dark brown eyes as well, however, unlike Austin's, his eyes had green flicks in them, whereas Austin's had none. He looked tanner than Austin was, and his smile. Oh my God... his smile was just as cute. His hair was blond, only lighter, as if he bleached it regularly (5.)(He probably did... but damn did he look handsome.). He was also just as cute. (And looked just like Ralphy Hayes, too, only his hair was bleach blond and longer than Austin's, but shorter than Ralphy's. There were some other striking differences, but that was the most predominant.)
And his lips... Holy crap. They were as kissable as Austin's!
I mentally cried.
'Are you legit? They were like twins... with some differences, only not blood related.'
What the hell...?
"Seems like you're kisser is extremely cute," Trish sang.
"...I-" I stutter. "What the hell?" I exclaim, ignoring the fact that I openly swore, when I rarely did, if ever.
"I know they look exactly the same, but there must, no, there has to be, some differences among them."
"They're... You... Me..." I sighed. "You're right, Trish." I bit my lip, trying to conceal my growing smile. "When did you get so smart and wise, Trish?" I don't work well under pressure; Trish, on the other hand... she's amazing under pressure.
"Since I worked at the science store," she joked. "But seriously Ally, you should hang out with them and get to know them to depicter who you're kisser was."
"That's such a good idea!" I grinned. "Two great suggestions in a day – in a morning, to be precise? Wow! You're on a roll!"
"I know~!" She furrowed her eyebrows in thought. "Oh yeah! I'm not 100% sure, but I think I was in a couple of classes last year with Austin and Ross... I may be wrong... I really don't pay attention to my classes, let alone classmates." I nodded. That might be some useful information I could use later on... I mentally take note of that aspect.
Anyways, back to more important situations. Now that Trish's suggestion lingered on my mind, I've decided to go through with her plan, and actually hang out with them (spending time with them separately) to get to know them, and find out whom I kissed last night. (The sparks, fireworks, and explosions... I want to experience them again. I need to find them. Need.)
With that plan in mind, I strengthen my resolve and decided to spend the next two weeks getting to know them each separately. But, now a hurdle – a question – stands in my way.
The question is: 'How am I going to do this?'
I stood in front of Miami Highschool (I finally composed a plan to get to know Ross Lynch and Austin Moon, though it's complicated...) and pondered about my experiences the past few days.
I went to a party last week – I've grown to accept that fact;
I got drunk – okay, I knew that, and I'm unhappy, but the past is the past and you can't do anything to change the past;
I kissed a guy, and got my first kiss – one of the best things I've ever experienced in my entire life;
I'm looking for my mysterious kisser – on it at the moment;
I'm torn between the two blonds (that are oddly identical, as if twins) that could be my kisser (Ross or Austin; Austin or Ross) – not pleased by this fact;
And today's my first day at this school – I'm nervous and excited at the same time. (Nervous: It's my first day here, and I wonder if they'll like me... Excited: I can't wait to find who my kisser is.)
"Yay..." I muttered deadpan.
I sighed and proceeded to enter the building, where I would face the two blonds head face-to-face.
'Deep breaths, deep breaths,' I chanted, hoping that this plan won't go down the drain, and the blonds wouldn't be creped out by my sudden attachment to them... 'Remain calm...'
Today, I've planned to get Austin or Ross to show me around Miami High.
...
"Excuse me, Ms." She looked up to me with a kind smile. She was a pretty brunette with clear blue eyes and a sweet smile. She was paler than I was (and that was pale, considering I was already extremely pale...). She wasn't wearing any make up, but I could tell that she was attractive with or without any on.
"Yes?" I couldn't help but smile back. Her smile was contagious.
"Hello. My name is Ally Dawson, and I just transferred her from New York." She nodded, and began to search through her computer for my file. Her gold name plate caught my eye and I noticed that her name was, "Ms. Brooks."
"Ah yes. Ally Dawson. A sophomore." I nod. "You need your schedule?"
"Yes please." She smiles and tells me to wait a moment while she goes into the back to print out my classes. So far, so good. Ms. Brooks seemed nice. Maybe moving to Miami isn't such a bad idea...
"Here you go," Ms. Brooks announces, handing me the piece of paper with all my classes on it.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome, dear." I made a move to leave when she calls my name. "Sweetie, do you need someone to show you around the school, since you're new here?" That's right! I forgot about that...
"If that wouldn't be so much a bother..." She waved it off nonchalantly.
"It's fine. Is there anyone, specifically, that you would like to assist you with this particular matter?" I bit my lip. What a wonderful opportunity.
"Well... there is this person I had in mind..." She widened her eyes ever so slightly.
"Oh? Who is it?" I grin in excitement.
"Hm? You called me, Ms. Brooks?" a deep voice asked from behind me. My heart thumped nervously in my chest. It's him.
I didn't dare to look at him. No. I'm afraid I'll act like an idiot, like how I acted when I had a crush on Dallas... only I think I'll be worse around him.
"I haven't caused any trouble... yet..." he teased.
Oh my God... someone help me.
What was I thinking!
"Ah yes. I know it's the first day of school, but no worries. You're not in trouble at all," she said.
"I'm not?" he paused. "But wait. If I'm not in trouble... why am I in the guidance counselor's office?"
It's time: do or die.
Oh my God. I think I'm going to be sick.
Ms. Brooks motioned to me, and I could feel his eyes on me, and then she introduced us.
"Austin, this is Ally; Ally, this is Austin." I look up and meet his eyes with my own.
"Hi," I mumbled shyly. "Nice to meet you." ('While I'm not drunk...' I mentally add.) He gave me a look over, scanning my face.
"Hey. Nice meeting you, too." He quirked an eyebrow and turned his head to the side in confusion. "Not to be rude, but still, why am I here? And what does me meeting Ally have to do with anything?" Ms. Brooks sent him a smile.
"Bingo. That's the whole point."
"I'm sorry... I still don't follow..." She laughed, as if he cracked a joke.
"Austin, you've been in this school for a while," Ms. Brooks started, trailing off.
"Yeah..."
"...And Ally's new here..." A look passed his facial features, as if a light bulb had gone off on top of his head.
"...So you want me to show her around the school..." he finished with an uncertain tone. I cringed at his monotone voice.
Maybe he was unhappy?
By the sound of his voice, he looked displeased, but maybe that was just me (because I'm horrible at depicturing someone's emotions, and Austin is no exception).
But, by the look that passed through his face, he looked pretty excited.
"Exactly." There was an awkward silence in the air, and I felt like I should have broken it, or something, but knowing me, I would have made a fool of myself while trying to accomplish this task (You know... me having stage fright and all... and Austin's scrutinous gaze on me, I would have either done these possible scenarios: A. Had a panic attack; B. Become a stuttering Mess; C. Faint; D. Embarrassed myself by saying things I shouldn't have; or E. All of the Above.).
"Okay." He looked at me once more before giving me a kind smile. "C'mon Ally. Let me show you around." He grabbed my hand and pulled me gently out of the office. Oh man! My heartbeat accelerated and I could feel the beings of a blush start on my face.
His hand is so warm... I feel so safe around him.
"Thanks Austin!" called Ms. Brooks from behind us. He grinned and looked down at me once the main office was out of our peripheral vision.
"I'm sorry for how I acted in the guidance counselor's office. I was just surprised that someone asked me to show him or her around."
"It's okay." I squinted my eyes at him. There was something very... familiar about him, like I saw him somewhere, aside from the party (he possibly be my kisser! I don't know!). Like the internet or on t.v. or something... "You know..." I began, trailing off awkwardly. I wasn't the best conversation starter or a conservationist in general.
"Hmm?"
"You look sort of familiar... Like I saw you somewhere before..." He smirked.
"You might have," he trailed off with a huge grin blooming on his handsome face (Was it just me, or was that an egoistic grin that graced his face?). And then it hit me. I snapped my fingers in realization.
"Ah... That right! I remember now!"
"Where did you see me?" Smug. He was smug, but... about what? It wasn't that much of a big deal... at least to me.
"Uh... you were on that dog food commercial, right?" Austin's eyes bugged out.
"What?" he echoed, disappointment coloring his voice.
"The dog food commercial...?" I stated slowly, though it sounded much more like a question. "Ralphy Hayes? I honestly thought you were Ralphy Hayes, with the identical facial features, but then I thought... 'why would you be a brunette?' You're a blond... well, unless you dyed you're brunette hair blond, or your blond hair brunette, then blond again, or you wore a wig... but then the hair style isn't you're style right now... and... I mean... I thought... you... you were on the dog food commercial," I finished lamely. He frowned, and muttered something under his breath.
"No... I'm not... I wasn't... I'm on... nevermind... it's nothing..." He frowned, before adding, "I'm not the dog food guy."
"Sorry," I apologized. It seems like he got that a lot... He sighed, and shook his head.
"It's okay..." Austin cocked his head to the side in thought. "Ally. Just out of curiosity, if you're new here, how do you know me?"
Crap! That's a good question. Of course I forgot about that part! How would I know him if I just moved here? I don't even know if he's my kisser for crying out loud! I need something to help me. Something! Someone help me!
"I... my... my friend knows you," I stammered, remembering that Trish told me could have been in a couple of classes with Austin. "A-and she told me that you're really nice... and that's you'd be... be an awesome tour guide for me... for me to get to k-know this school better!" He raised an eyebrow.
"Ah. I see... but wait. You're friend? Which one? I might know him or her." I bit my lip.
Of course he asks!
"...A-...D-... Tr-Trish!" I exclaim, still not 100% sure that I should have used her name; after all, he might not know her. "And... And I was at Dylan's party last week, and I saw you there!" I exclaim, desperately hoping he was at the party last night.
'Please, please, please!' I chant internally. 'Please confirm that you were at the party last week... you could be my kisser, if so...'
"Trish?" I nodded unsurely. The way he said her name implied he probably didn't know her. "Trish! Oh yeah! I remember her! She was in my English class last year." I exhaled in relief. "Oh, and yes, I was at Dylan's party last week."
"Oh, that's cool." I sent him a victorious smile. I was mentally cheering. 'Yes! He was at the party last week, so... so he could be my kisser! Victiory!' And that made me extremely happy. I was one step closer to finding out whether or not Austin Moon was my first kiss. "Yeah. Trish is my best friend..."
"Best friend?"
"Uh huh... I was born in Miami and I used to live here until I was seven, when my parents divorced and I moved to New York to live with my mom." He gave me a sympathetic look.
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay." He laughed.
"It sounds like I'm always apologizing to you, even thought we've just met ten minutes ago." I grinned humorously.
"It's honestly fine, Austin. You're really nice and sweet to me, even though we've just met." I could feel a bond form between us. Perhaps he is my kisser. I'm almost 100% sure.
He was everything that girls would look in a guy: sweet, kind, caring, sympathetic, chivalrous, etc.
"You know... I've always wanted to perform in Times Square."
"Really? You're a singer?"
"Of course! I love music!" He was very passionate about music, I could tell. "Haven't you seen my videos online? That's what I was talking about earlier... ("...But you mistakened me with Ralphy Hayes instead," he muttered. "I said I was sorry!" I retaliate. He rolls his eyes. "I know, I know. I was just kidding with you... Even though it annoys me when people think I'm the dog food guy. I'm a blond; he's a brunette! We look nothing alike..." I give him a raised eyebrow. "I wouldn't say nothing..." He narrowed his eyes at me playfully. "Really? What are our similarities?" I roll my eyes. "Nothing, Austin. Nothing." I wasn't going to enlighten him; I was going to leave him hanging. "Okay, fine. Be that way," he baited, and let the topic slid... for the time being.) I was singing a couple of songs and posted it on MyTewb (6.). And I became an overnight internet sensation..."
Oh! That's where I heard Austin! I remember seeing him in some videos, and on the Ellen Show!
Now it hit me.
"I'm sorry, haven't... but I love music too. Music... music allows for my to escape the world," I tell him. "Because my parents divorced, I liked to get something to balance this strange new environment." He nods at my explanation.
"I understand. I love music too. In the first place, I wasn't intending to become a musician, and actually, I didn't care about music as a child..." I raised an eyebrow.
How did he become who he was told, then? I was curious now.
"The reason why I love music is because as a child, my dad always told me that music was a waste of time, and that there's no chance for someone as "insignificant" as I could become a huge sensation, that I only have 'one in a billion chance' if I were to pursuit this dream. I wanted to prove my dad wrong, because he thinks he's always correct about everything in life, and so I made it my goal to become a huge musician... Gradually, I fell in love with music... and here I am... that's why I love music."
"My dad said that same thing," I mumbled, eyes wide. "My dad told me that I had a 'billion in one' chance at making it in the music business'." We had something in common! I bit my lip. I found myself wanting, praying, that Austin was my kisser.
"I'm glad someone understands the importance of music," he states, his eyes shining in happiness. He glanced at his schedule. "Hey, if it's not too much, can I ask what classes you have?"
"I don't mind." I hand him my schedule and our hands brush slightly. My body tingles and this amazing feeling spreads throughout my body. He gave me a half look before glancing back down at the words printed on the paper.
He could be the one. I'm almost positive he's the one who kissed me.
'Austin Moon.' Could he be my mysterious kisser?
"Cool! We have geometry and chemistry together." He hands me the paper, and our hands touch again. Heat erupts from where our skin made contact, and I itch to press our skin together again, but refrain to. It would be creepy if I did that, and who knows what Austin would think... First impressions are always the ones to linger in your mind the longest... "Maybe you can help me when I need it," Austin teases.
"Maybe I can."
Needless to say, I was convinced that Austin Moon was my kisser (and hoped to God that he was my kisser.).
And I wasn't so displeased with that idea.
"Trish," I stated, "Austin is the sweetest guy ever."
School was over, and we were both at Sonic Boom. I was currently telling Trish about my day with Austin, and how much I believe he's my kisser, not Ross.
Austin was so sweet. His beautiful mesmerizing coca brown eyes and dirty blond hair... I swear when I first saw him, I could have sworn then and there that he was my kisser.
Now... all that's left is to confirm that Ross Lynch isn't my kisser and I could speak to Austin about the party and that mind blowing kiss...
(...And maybe we could date...?)
Trish is quiet for a minute.
"I'm sure he is. I'm sure he's 100% better than most of the male population, better than Dallas, and better than his best friend, Dez, the red-head, childish, immature, bozo, idiotic, stupid, sorry excuse for the male popu-" I coughed, signaling for her to continue and make her point. I hadn't missed the way Trish's voice was laced with venom as she said Dez's name, but I ignored it in favor of focusing on more important matters. "-lation, heck, anyone is better than that red-head."
"Trish... what's you're point?" I try to hide the grin that blossoms on my face at her reaction to this "Dez" person. She ignores that look I sent her, and continues,
"Ally, think about it. If Austin really was your kisser, wouldn't he have given you an indication that he kissed you last week?" Maybe. She had a point.
"...Maybe he couldn't remember? Maybe I have to show him his hoodie – "
" – Or Ross' hoodie," Trish added after a second thought.
" – so that he could remember," I declared. I pondered for a moment. "I really like Austin, a lot." We had so much in common; if he was my kisser, then it would be amazing (with the combination of the feelings of the kiss and the similarity of the love of music between the two of us.).
"But what if you like Ross more?" the Latina pointed out, and I found myself pouting. She was right. Man. Why was Trish right? "What would you do then?" I had no witty response to her question. Instead, I was rendered speechless.
I knew she had a good point.
What if I liked Ross more?
:::
And then I meet Ross Lynch.
...
He groaned.
"What the heck?" I heard him say. I looked down to face him from my sprawled position on top of him. My eyes met the dark stormy eyes of his. I immediately open my mouth to apologize, but I am slightly intimidated by his fierce expression.
"I'm sorry," I apologize meekly. He gave me a glare.
"Why don't you watch where you're going?" he hissed.
"I said I was 'sorry'!" I exclaimed, feeling extremely defensive. I don't understand why he's so angry. Sure, I would be a little annoyed that someone collided into my and forced me to the ground (but I would have forgiven the whoever collided with me if he or she apologized, which I am right at the moment!), but he was taking this way out of proportion, and it wasn't entirely my fault!
I was just casually glancing around to take in the surroundings of my new school, trying to find my next class – music class – when I got lost (This school was legit huge, compared to my old school in New York.). I, knowing me, had to accidentally tripped on a crack (Only me. Only me.) and collided into a random bystander, who just so happened to be him (I'm a terribly clumsy person, if you haven't noticed by now... I trip over simple things, and possibly even air, just to tell you... Just a simple fact about Ally Dawson...).
And then, everything happened in slow motion. His eyes widened in surprise as my accident propelled him back by a bit, but just barely; his arms wrapped around my waist hastily in surprise, trying regain his footing, only to have another student bump into us in a rush to get to class (Apparently, class was beginning shortly, and this particular student wasn't aiming to be late...). What happened next was not something that I would assume to happen to me (or at least on my first day at this school... I would have give or take a week or so, but honestly, coupled with my bad luck and my clumsiness, this obviously had to happen on to me on my first day here.). He fell backwards onto his back and onto the cold, stone hard floor of the hallway with the additional push from that student, and my momentum, with a loud crash. Suddenly, we were on the floor (I guess he didn't actually think that the force of my fall would have that much momentum... Thus, our current predicament.).
Honestly, it wasn't as if I was aiming to fall on top of him.
There were times in my life when I wish I could do a redo, or a repeat, to take back my mistakes.
...This... this is one of those moments.
His voice broke through my thoughts.
"Do you mind? Will you get off me?" I gave him a look.
Why was he so rude?
"You could at least say 'please'!" I demanded, boiling in anger.
"Will you get off me, please," he bit out angrily. I huffed and got off him, with a few stumbling here and there. When I finally got to my feet, he was already on his, and I sent him a frown. He straightens his clothes, which were rumpled from our collision.
He looked oddly familiar... I feel like he –
And then realization dawns on me, as if cold water was splashed on me after a deep slumber.
Oh. My. God.
"Ross Lynch," I mouthed. He looked up at me, seeing movement from the corner of his eye, and gave me a raised eyebrow.
"What?"
Bleach blond hair, hazel eyes, with hints of green flicks in them, tall frame, muscular body, tan skin...
Oh my God. It is Ross Lynch.
And I collided into him.
"Are you going to stand there and stare like an idiot?" he snapped. I immediately snapped out of my reverie and gave him a dirty look.
"Ross Lynch," I stated blindly. He gives me a confused look.
"How do you know my name?" Of course; me and my big mouth. My mouth had a mind of it's own; before I could form a coherent thought.
"Do you have manners?" I bit out, frustrated that he was so rude, and I barely did anything but collide into his (which was an accident, I would like to add!). I usually wasn't this type of girl (the rude type of person), but it was apparent that Ross brought out the worse in me...
There was absolutely no way that we kissed. I would never let a guy like him kiss me – drunk or not drunk.
All the sudden, he gave me a smirk.
"Okay, I apologize." I was taken aback momentarily.
Woah. What a change in attitude... I wonder what caused such change...
"It's okay..." I mumbled, feeling a bit off.
"You're a unique girl," he sudden declares, making me feel a bit insecure.
Does he mean that in a good way...?
...Or was it in a bad way...?
"What do you mean?" I had the sudden urge to know what he meant by that (He had me intrigued.). He gave me a lopsided grin, and made me swoon internally, despite his rude demeanor not even five minutes ago.
"Last week, you were drinking liquor like there was no tomorrow, and today, you crash into me in what seemed like an 'accident'," he supplied. I bit my lip to keep myself from smiling.
He knew his way with words – he knew how to compliment girls with his way with words (Being both offensive and sweet at the same time... How the heck was that possible? Apparently Ross could pull that stunt off... Only him. He's the only person that I've ever encountered that's able to do that.).
"It was an accident!" I defend, fuming over the fact that he assumed I was purposely trying to cause a scene. I hated unnecessary scenes (mainly because I had stage fright, and hated the spotlight.)
And then his words hit me like a ton of bricks.
Wait. What? He was at the party last week?
Fan-freaking-tastic.
"You were at Dylan's party last week," I blurted out unconsciously. He quirked an eyebrow.
Again. My mouth had a mind of it's own.
"Yeah... why?" I groan quietly. Of course he would have been there. Trish did say that everyone who is everyone would be there.
"Nothing. Just curious." He gives me a strange look. I turn my back on him, intent on finding my music class, and prevent from being later to class than I already was (My first day at this school, and I'm already late for music class. Great. What a first impression for the music teacher.).
"You know... it's lunch right, not some class?" I froze, mid-step.
Are you legit now?
He laughed quietly.
"C'mon here." He grasp my wrist gently in his warm palm, just as Austin did earlier yesterday morning, and tugged me to his side.
It was uncanny how similar Ross Lynch and Austin Moon was.
"Hey, what's your face, are you coming?" I made a face.
"Ross, are you serious? That's not my name." He shrugged nonchalantly.
"Okay, 'clumsy'," he substituted.
"That's not my name, either!"
"Well, you never told me your name... so I'm stuck with calling you 'what's you're face', or 'clumsy', because you are clumsy (because, let's face it, non-clumsy people don't collide with another person because they "accidentally" tripped on a crack.)." I pouted. I knew he was right – I was clumsy (but I don't intentionally collide into other people!) – but I wasn't happy with that fact.
"My name is Ally Dawson," I finally reveal to him. Ross grinned cutely.
"Hi Ally," he greeted playfully. I repressed an amused smile, had the urge to humor him.
"Hello Ross." He winked.
"Okay, seriously, I want to know: How do you know my name?" I ended up using the same excuse I used for Austin, hoping that Trish and he were in the same class last year – at least one.
"Oh yeah. We were; she was in my Spanish class." I sighed in relief.
"That's cool." The longer I spend time with Ross, the more I'm getting used to him, and my fondness for him is growing. I'm quite enjoying his company, despite the rocky start we begun off with.
I notice that he bends down to pick something off the ground, and I cock my head to the side in wonder. He opens it up cautiously and his eyes scans the pages in interest, a egoistic grin blossoming on his face.
Hm? What was he readi-?
"My songbook!" I exclaim, startling him slightly, and causing him to look up from the pages and lock eyes with me. How did he get my songbook? He didn't read any of my journals, did he? I wrote some embarrassing stuff in my songbook! I would die if anyone read what I wrote!
Please, please, please no!
I attempt to get my songbook back from him, but he kept it out of reach by putting it above my head.
He was a good foot taller than me; he used his height to an advantage, alright.
Damn my shortness to hell!
"Answer my questions, and I'll give it back," Ross says. I sighed and got back on my feet.
"Fine. Shoot away."
"Are you a musician?" he asks after a moment of silence. I turn my head to the side in curiosity – why this question?
"Well... you can say that. I'm a musician, but I don't sing in front of people; I have stage fright. I'm more of a songwriter, though I do sing, if it's only for myself," I reveal to Ross.
"You're an awesome songwriter."
"Thanks," I mumbled shyly.
"Hey, interesting enough... my family and I (as well as my friend, who plays the drums in the band) are in a band, R5. I'm the lead singer and I also play rhythm guitar in the band. My older brother, Riker, already graduated several years back (three years ago); my older and only sister, Rydel, graduated a couple years back; my family friend, Ratliff, graduated along with Rydel a couple years back, as well; my older brother, Rocky, is a junior; my younger brother, Ryland, is a freshman."
"That's cool." I can believe he loves music like I do (and Austin, too... Similarities... Differences... There were no boundaries to this when these two boys were involved.). He smiled, and I felt like my heart was going to burst inside my chest.
'Ross Lynch.' Could he be my mysterious kisser?
It's been one week since school started, and two weeks since the party (and more importantly, the mind blowing kiss I experienced). I've gotten to know both Ross and Austin well enough, but I was still left in the shadows, wondering who my kisser was.
"So... you like Ross Lynch?" Trish clarifies, sounding confused.
"Yes. No. Yes. No. I don't know," I told her honestly. I guess I kind of do... I mean... it's confusing. She gave me this look, that was something like, 'Really?'
"...Wait... does Ally Dawson like Austin Moon and Ross Lynch?" I groaned and stuffed my face into a nearby pillow.
"I don't know, Trish!"
"What do you mean?" I sighed, trying my best to put my feelings and thoughts into words.
"Austin... he's sweet, kind, genuinely nice, and chivalrous, something I find really attractive in boys our age. I like that Austin makes me feel safe and protected when I'm near him. He would be the perfect, devoted, sweet, loving boyfriend that girls our age would look for. He and I have so many similarities, and I find myself wondering if he's my kisser... He's so different from Ross...
"But then Ross... he's sweet in his own way, but not necessarily 'nice', but more realistic. He's smart and witty, and I like that he brings the argument inside of me – the fire he ignites inside me, the one that I usually don't contain. He's so different from Austin, but like Austin, he has some similarities to me, too.
"I like that they're both different, and yet, the same boyish self... I like those qualities they contain."
I guess I like Ross Lynch and Austin Moon.
How was that possible?
I couldn't choose, so I decided on a different idea.
I was going to let fate do its thing, and take place.
...
Later that night, I phone the two boys, who gave me their cellphone numbers a few days ago for contact.
"Hey, I think I have your hoodie, from the party last week..." I tell them both. That hoodie is like my own personal glass slipper, I realize after I phone those two. "Meet me at the school gym tomorrow morning at seven if it belongs to you," I tell them, not revealing to them how I got it in the first place.
The next morning, I stand in front of the school gym, at seven in the morning, waiting for my kisser to arrive. When he does, I am absolutely shocked, yet at the same time, relieved.
"Hey, Ally. That's my hoodie."
Needless to say, I find out who my kisser is and is kissing him by the end of the day.
Author's Notes:
(1.) Zinga is an actual place in the Mall of Miami - in the Austin & Ally universe. Trish will probably get that job soon - if she hasn't, yet - in the last two episodes of season one, or in season two... It's a drink station, I think...
(2.) Surprisingly, I just found out a few days ago that Ross talks in his sleep... Ah! So cute! So, I thought it would be cute if Ally talks in her sleep... wonder what he says when he's sleeping... haha...
(3.) Buddy page = Facebook; parody of Good Luck Charlie (I figured, they had myTabs in both shows, so why not have a similar Facebook parody?).
(4.) Ross = 6ft tall; Laura = 5'2 ft tall; Difference = 10 inches. Source = Twitter. ;)
(5.) Ross and his siblings had snow blond hair as children. As they grow older, their hair color turned darker, like a shad of brown like Rocky or Ryland because of the pigment in their hair losing their "pigment"... some of them bleach their hair (I think Ross, Riker, and Rydel do... maybe Rocky? I'm not sure...) to make them blond again... I rather like their dirty blond hair color (I have super dark brown hair, black even?, and I want blond hair, but I'm not dying it, lol. I love my hair. Natural hair is the best!)... and I can't imagine some of them (AKA Ross, Riker, and or Rydel) as brunettes.
(6.) MyTewb = Youtube; Austin & Ally parody.
It was extremely fun to write this. It realllly was. I guess you can loosely base this off of 'The Importance of Being Earnest.' (Whoever read that will know that this story was based on that story.) ;) (Man! What is up with me and drunk fics? This is like... my third one so far! Well... it's not really about drinking – mainly – but it incorporates it...) Sadly, this is a one-shot. I won't continue it. Sorry. I want you guys to guess. ;) I legit wrote this all in four days. (If you're reading this, hetheillest, you better he happy! Haha, I'm kidding. No worries! It was FUN to write. ;)) Oh, and made some characters wayyy out of character – OOC – AKA, Ross, Trish, Ally, and Austin (i.e. Ross is actually super sweet! I just needed to make them out of character to fit them in the story.).
Wanna know what question hetheillest asked? Well, she asked (totally paraphrasing here), "If you had the choice, which person would you chose? Ross or Austin?" (Do you remember this question, hetheillest? If you do, your opinions helped me write this with your replies! ;])
Now, my question to you is: Who do you think she kissed? Ross or Austin? ;) Are you on Team Auslly, or Team Rally? Haha... Oh, and who would YOU prefer to have in real life? Ross or Austin? (Honestly, I actually don't know who I planned to kiss Ally. I wanna hear your thoughts, and let's see it. ;))
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