Do You Mind?
"No guy has ever used a pick up line on me," Rydel laughs. Rocky grins.
"Well, we're around her all the time," Riker explains to the confused interviewer. "No guy really wants to come up to a girl surrounded by four guys."
"I would!" Ross chimes in, smiling.
"Nu-uh!" Rocky argues. "There's no way you would."
"Yeah, I would! I would just walk up and be like 'HOW—" here Ross points to an imaginary girl. "—are you doing?"
"Noo," the interview laughs, and the topic moves on.
Ross sticks true to his word.
They got back from the tour about a month ago, but his sleep cycles still aren't normal. He sleeps until noon, and then staggers downstairs with just a pair of shorts on. His family is waiting for him.
Not intervention style, where they all sit in a circle and say, "Ross, we need to talk." No, they were bustling around, packing food into bags and getting wet suits out.
"We're going to the beach today?" Ross asks sleepily, and it takes some chocolate chip pancakes and the promise of great surfing waves to get him in the car. Really, all he wants to do is sleep.
And he does. Stormie had made him put sunblock on, so he didn't turn into a tomato, but when he wakes up, he's covered in sand and sunshine. The rest of his family are riding the waves, so he's alone on his little square of the beach. That's when he sees the pretty girl.
She has four guys around her. Ross evaluates the situation; three of the guys have the same black curls as she does, so they could be related. The fourth guy isn't really showing her much affection or paying attention to her, so he probably isn't a boyfriend.
So he walks up to her. Smiles really widely. And says "HOW—" he points to the girl. "—are you doing?"
Her eyes are possibly the brightest blue he has ever seen, so it's a little hard to concentrate when she swivels, faces him with tanned hands on her hips, and asks:
"Do you mind?"
"I never do." Ross smiles cheekily and extends his hand.
"Ross," he says.
"Worst pick up line ever, but congrats on your bravery." She smiles to let him know she is joking, and Ross feels something weird in his stomach as she shakes his hand back. One of the guys behind her coughs impatiently.
"I'll catch up with you later," she tells them, and she turns back to Ross.
"So, do you practice that in a mirror, or what?"
"I actually have a better one," he laughs, and he holds up the wait one second finger. He turns around, walks away a few steps, and walks back.
"I know this is really weird, but did you fart? Because you just blew me away." (actual pick up line Ross talked about using in an interview)
Her laughter makes his day.
So after spending the day with her swimming, surfing, talking, and laughing, Ross gets her number.
And then asks her on a date.
Her snarkiness and sarcasm disappear as soon as he mentions the word "date."
"Um...what?" she stutters into the phone. Ross bites back a grin. She's totally in foreign territory.
"A date. You, me, possibly ice cream..."
"Uh... do you mind...if, uh... I take a rain check on that?"
"Yes, yes, I do mind. We're two attractive young teenagers. Why not?" Ross asks, and he can imagine her blue eyes widening in terror. Although she is pretty and awesome, guys didn't often ask her out. In fact, this would be the first time.
"Well..."
"Perfect. I'll pick you up at 7. I got your address from Zack, so I'll see you then, okay?"
"Okay," she breathes, and her trembling fingers press the end button. How the suave blond convinced her to go on a date with him, she didn't even know. Her unfocused eyes suddenly catch hold of a dark-haired figure. Her brother, Zack.
"You gave him our address?" she shrieks. And although she is beating her brother with a pillow, she is secretly thankful.
He kissed her on the first date.
Ross knew that she was nervous. On unfamiliar grounds. So he just took her to the beach.
They hung out, ran in the waves, and Ross even showed her how to skateboard. They bought some ice cream, and went exploring around the dunes. And when they were walking, his arm around her shoulder, he swiveled her toward him, kissed her quickly, and then kept walking.
It was the most nerve-wracking moment of his life.
Let's play it back one more time, but slowly.
She's in shorts and a t-shirt with the Beatles on it. A soft-serve strawberry ice cream is in her left hand. Ross's arm is heavy around her shoulder, but it's nice and warm.
The sand has occasional rocks in it, so she keeps her head down and pays attention to where she's walking. It's a comfortable silence.
This is it, Ross thinks. He's nervous. Afraid of rejection. But she's right there, and her lips are pink and so soft looking that he turns her with his arms, lifts her chin with his finger, and presses his lips against her. Soft. Quick. Beautiful. Tasting like strawberry ice cream.
Then he keeps walking like everything is normal.
She's in shock.
"Do you mind?" she demands, and Ross looks over at her casually, his stomach in a knot. She looks at him incredulously.
Her mind is racing, but empty. What could she say? That it couldn't have been more perfect? That she wanted it to happen again?
Instead, this comes out:
"You could have at least waited until I finish my ice cream."
He laughs.
And when the cone is finished and they're walking toward his car, she turns, puts her hands on his shoulders, and steals a kiss.
And another one.
And another one.
They stay there for a long time.
A couple of dates later, she finds out who he is.
She's just been so giddy with happiness—she's dating someone!—that she forgot to do the all important Google search of the hot guy she is kissing repeatedly.
It's late at night, and she's been texting him nonstop, and she types his name into search bar:
Ross Lynch.
Her eyes widen.
32,400,000 results in 0.18 seconds.
She's in her living room within seconds. The television is turned on, and there he is. On Austin and Ally. She watches for a minute, frozen, and then the commercials come on. And what is the commercial?
The Loud music video.
Her shriek wakes her brothers up.
They meet in the park the next day.
"Ross Lynch? Ross Lynch?!" she whisper screams. He blinks.
"Ye-es?" he answers, unsure of himself.
"You're famous. You're on Disney Channel. You have a band!"
She's stating the obvious, so he's confused.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I kinda thought you knew," he says. She shook her head, long dark curls flying.
"I Googled you. You have 648.2K followers on Twitter! I watched every episode of your show last night, and, and..."
She trails off. He's staring at her intensely. She blinks.
"What?"
"What kind of person doesn't watch Disney Channel?" Ross asks, and she fights the urge to laugh.
"I don't know, I was—"
She is rudely interrupted. He is sitting on the bench, and she is standing above him, gesturing her arms wildly, and he just reaches over and pulls her down on his lap. So he can kiss her.
"Do you mind?" she says, trying to be angry, but she is pulled back in.
"I'm still the same guy," Ross whispers against her mouth. "I'm still your boyfriend."
She freezes and opens her eyes.
"Boyfriend?"
They're at the beach. It's kinda their place now. She had brought her guitar, and she was leaning up against Ross. They were on one of the dunes.
Her quick fingers strummed a familiar chord phrase.
"So which one is about me?" she asks. The band had just come out with their new EP, and she was already in love with the four great songs...which were all love songs.
"What makes you think I wrote them about you? Maybe they're about another girl," Ross teases as he plays with her hair. She cranes her neck to look at him. His fingers slow.
"Fine. I'll tell you, but just... don't freak out."
Here she sits up and faces him, alert and wide eyed.
"... Fallin' For You."
Her hands fly to her mouth. Ross pulls them away.
"Do you mean what you say in the song?"
He nodded.
"What if I want to change my hair six times a week?"
Ross's mouth curves into a grin. He shakes his head, eyes closed dramatically.
"Sorry, that just won't do."
She giggles, and leans closer to him. "Maybe I'm falling, too."
"Fallin' for you," Ross sings, strumming the guitar over her.
"And I'm not crazy."
"Sure."
"And I do like mismatched socks with polka dots."
"I know."
"But I've never danced in the rain."
They both look up at the sky hopefully. Not a cloud existed in the azure horizon.
The next rainfall there was found them both in the street, dancing to "Fallin' For You."
Her experience at the Radio Disney awards was not great.
Which was odd, because everything else seemed fantastic.
Ross had negotiated his contract repeatedly with his producers until they finally agreed to introduce her as his girlfriend. He was thrilled.
All of the Disney stars were on the red carpet , chatting with the various interviewers, trying to get as much camera time as possible, but as soon as Ross Lynch and his girlfriend were on the floor, they were doomed.
"I think Laura Marano is contemplating murder," she whispered as they walked. The brunette starlet was glaring at her. She gulped and tightened her grip on Ross's arm.
"And Olivia Holt," Ross whispered back, his eyes flicking to the livid looking blonde.
They continued to name the furious female stars until the nearest interviewer walked up to them and started chatting about music, R5, Austin and Ally, and... her.
"So where did you meet?" the interviewer gushed. Ross glanced down at his nervous girlfriend, who was intensely uncomfortable with the way Laura was clenching and un-clenching her fists.
The night went on like that until they collapsed into the limo.
"Do you mind if I take a rain check on all future Radio Disney awards? China Anne McClain was cornering me in the bathroom. I only just escaped with my life."
"I only just realized that all these girls are in love with me," Ross muses. She grimaces, and then changes the topic.
"Congrats on your award, by the way," she says, her blue eyes resting on the trophy. He grins toothily.
"I still walked away with the biggest prize."
Ross plants a kiss on her temple, and she looks up at him.
"You do know I was joking, right? I'm never leaving you alone at an event with so many females."
"I know."
Ross is nervous. He's pacing the floor. Rocky is watching him with amusement.
"Dude, it'll go fine."
"Well," he automatically responds. She had been driving grammar into his brain, but he loved it. The cute crinkle in her nose when she would correct him, her excuse to kiss him when he said something correctly.
The doorbell rings.
"I'll get it!" Ross shouts, but he is beaten to the door by Ryland.
"Hey, baby," he says, wiggling his eyebrows. "You can't be here for Ross, can you? You're way out of his league..."
"RYLAND!" Ross pushes Ryland out of the way to see his girlfriend. She's giggling.
"Sorry, sweetheart, but I'm taken."
She pats Ryland on the head. Rocky, who's watching from the staircase, laughs.
"Do you mind introducing me?"
She smiles sweetly, and Ross's brain momentarily disappears.
"Sure. This is Rocky, and this is Ryland."
After exchanging pleasantries, he pulls her aside.
"Are you ready to meet my parents?" he whispers in her ear. She represses a shiver as his lips brush past her hair.
"Ready as I'll ever be. Let's go."
It's his eighteenth birthday. They're having a party.
The dinner with his parents went so well she had been over almost every day after that. She was laughing with his parents, and she looks so radiant in her white dress that he's having a hard time concentrating. A really hard time.
"Ouch!"
He shouldn't have been cutting the cake.
The party is outside. Friends and family are there, a slow song is playing, there's a weird version of a dance floor on the grass, so Ross goes up to his parents.
"Do you mind?" he asks, but before they could answer, he steals her.
"That was kinda rude," she murmurs as her hands go up around his neck. His hands settle at her waist, and they sway back and forth.
"Yeah, well, so is this."
"Ross!"
Her hands go down to his chest and she pushes him away lightly.
"No kissing when your family is around."
They sway like that for a long time until—
"I love you."
A long beat passes. An incredible stretch of time. She leans her head back and studies his anxious brown eyes.
"I know," she says.
Another beat.
"You did not just go all Star Wars on me," Ross laughs, and he spins her around. She's beaming as he pulls her up against his chest.
"For the record, I love you too."
"I know."
The tour scares her.
It's for three months. They promise to Skype every night, to call, to text, but she's still scared.
"I don't want to lose you," she states. They're lying side by side, staring up at the sky. They're in the park.
"You won't. I promise."
But promises can be broken. Just like hearts.
"Do you mind—" she begins, rolling over to face him. He interrupts.
"You know I never do," Ross says, grinning. They're face to face.
"Just—just—"
She doesn't know what to say. They're staring at each other. Her mind is a blank. She rolls on her back again.
"Never mind."
"Tell me!" Ross begs and he scoots up to her ears. "Pleeease?"
"Just don't take your shirt off onstage. They'll kill you."
"Mmmhhmmm" he murmurs, and pulls her back over. Her eyes are twinkling.
"You do know this is technically illegal? You're 18, and I'm 17... I could arrest you for sexual harassment."
"You won't," he says simply.
She pulls away from his kiss, and there's something a little mischievous in her smile.
"You know, my family is out of town..."
"Let's go."
One great thing about her was that his family loved her.
One horrible thing; they loved her.
"Ross? Do you mind if I borrow her for a second?"
Rydel's head peeked around the door. Ross was hanging off his bed, playing his guitar upside down, and his exhausted girlfriend was doing her homework on top of the bed.
"No!" Ross growls, and he sits straight up to wrap his arms around her. "She's mine."
"Sorry, Delly, I have to study. SATs are coming up."
"Oh, okay. Another time."
Rydel leaves, only to bump into Rocky.
"What are you doing?" she asks. Rocky smiles.
"I need to borrow Ross's lady to help me with some lyrics. She's pretty good with that stuff."
"You can't, she's studying for SATs."
Rydel turns the other way, right into Riker.
"She's busy," Rydel states flatly. Riker pouts.
"Fine," he mumbles. "I'll have to go tell Mom. She wants her to help bake that cool thing she made for Christmas."
Inside Ross's room, the pair were listening.
"You're in demand," he comments. She groans and throws her book across the room.
"I'll never get into a good college!"
She got into a good college.
Not just a good one, a great one. In Oxford University.
In England.
She doesn't know how to tell him.
"Ross?"
"Yeees?"
"...never mind."
She ends up telling Rydel first. Ross is filming at Austin and Ally for the day, so they have a "just gals" sleep over. They end up sobbing, hugging, watching Titanic, and pigging out on Ben and Jerry's.
"How am I going to tell him?" she wails. Rydel, not having any advice, simply opens up her arms for a hug. A very tear-stained hug.
Since Rydel was no help, she went to Stormie.
"Do you mind helping me?"
That turned out to be a sob fest even worse that Rydel's.
"I liked you so much, too! Four years?" Stormie cries, and buries her in a hug. "Oh, sweetheart, I really thought you two would last."
Riker didn't cry, but he also didn't have any advice.
Rocky suggested she could tell him in song.
Ryland suggested writing him a note.
Mark just stared before shaking his head sadly.
They were at the beach. Sunset. They were snacking on sandwiches, and he's dressed up pretty nicely.
"I was just thinking about the first time we met, and—"
"—I'm moving to England for four years to go to college."
It was blurted out in a gross, messy bundle of guilt and heart-break. Ross stares blankly. The box in his pocket feels heavy.
"What?"
She offers a weak smile before holding up her acceptance letter.
Of course, there was the talk. The promise of meeting up in four years. The assurance that they should see other people. The false hope of healing. The lie that it was a clean break.
It wasn't.
FOUR YEARS LATER
It was four years later.
European tour.
At 22, Ross Lynch was the hottest single male on the charts; to hone in on a certain word, single.
Of course he had tried dating. But those girls weren't scared on the first date. They relished the fact he was famous. They demanded love songs, they enjoyed the jealousy of other girls, they didn't care about grammar, they were at most tolerated by his parents, they eagerly kissed in front of his family, and most of all—
They weren't her.
Ross knew it was a long shot. Oxford was close to London, though, so he insisted on touring the streets. Stopping at every college aged group.
He knew it was risky. What if he saw her with another boy? What if she didn't want to see him? What if...she was happy without him?
He's in a busy street. People stream by him, an undeterred river of gray, when he sees it.
He rushes past everyone, pushing and shoving to get to the wild mane of black curls. It has to be her. It simply has to be. Finally, he's there. He grabs her hand, yanks her around and—
"Do you mind?"
He smiles.
Ugh. I was not sure how to end this. I was gonna do a whole romantic proposal scene, but I don't even know. Tell me what you think and check out my other stories!