So I'm not too sure what to say about this. Just read the note at the bottom. It'll explain everything.
She sat alone in the coffee shop on the corner of Main and Twelfth Street, reading an old magazine. He had gotten her into that. The Chipped Mug had always been her favorite thinking spot since she moved out here. She didn't want to move, no, not at all. But she had to. He had driven her away when it happened. It had been a little more than a year, but not quite a year and a half. It still stung, she would never forget the pain, the resent, the regret she had for March 21. It was, let alone, the worst possible day of her 17 years of living. Yes, she was only 17 and moved across the country. Did her father love the idea? No, not even close, hell, he was ready to rid him of living for hurting his little princess. She didn't let him, as much as she hated him, she wanted him to suffer. To just see his mistake and what he had lost. That he had done something so stupid and she was willing to protect him from the much needed wrath of her father, no matter how much deserved it was, to see this. She zoned out of her thoughts when she caught a familiar patch of tousled and mangled light dirty blond hair.
It couldn't have been. It was New York for crying out loud. She left him in Miami two weeks after it had happened. She was not going to face him any longer than she had to. So she used her mom's 'I'm divorcing your father and moving across the world, please don't hate me' funds her mom had left her. She didn't talk about it much. Her and her dad could barely stay on their feet that first year, but they made it financially. Mentally was another story. He was crushed, she was 12, she didn't know what was happening. She had an idea, but she was as lost as she was her first day in the city she now calls home. A voice clearing their throat brought her back from her dark memories. She still had her magazine covering her face, so he hadn't recognized her yet, so why was he over here?
"Excuse me, Ms, you're in my seat." She looked around for her sunglasses. Yes, she was inside, but she was willing to do anything to protect her cover. She pushed up her glasses and pulled down the magazine.
"I'm sorry, I didn't see your name on it when I sat down. If anything, mine is on here." She pointed towards a plaque along the far side of the booth. Indeed there was her name, engraved in a metallic faux gold stone. She was thankfully smart enough to go by her full and he mom's, as much as she hated her, maiden name. Allison Lynn was written. Next to it, however, was also his. Austin Moon it read. Well, crap, she thought. Now she was forced to either move, which was not happening, or sit across from him. "Just sit down. There's no need to make a scene over something like this. We can just share it." He nodded and brought his marbled, chipped looking mug to the carved wooden table. She did not like this. But she wasn't moving, and as she saw it, neither was he.
"So Allison, what's a lovely lady like you doing her alone?" She swore she almost threw her now full cup at him. She was disgusted by him. How could her pull what her did, then use lame, stupid pickup lines to hit on her? She mentally grimaced.
"I've had a rough past with men. I took a break to finish school and then maybe I'll look back into it. I may just end up a lonely cat lady." She shrugged and sipped her cappuccino. He attempted at a chuckle out of pity. He was never good with sad women.
"Awe, well that sucks. If you don't mind me asking, what happened to make you hate all of us. Not every man is as douche-y has the one you faced. I'd like to think I'm quite the charmer."
Now she was disgusted. He was the one who caused this and her had the nerve to make that stupid statement. She was using all restraint and willpower to not reach over, slap him, and dump both of their coffees on him. But she was not going to let him get to her. As awful as he was being. Then she had another problem: what had happened. He would surely remember. Yet she began anyways.
"Oh not at all." She waved him off, causing canyon-like dents in her tongue. Her fake smile was killing her cheeks and her face. It hurt. He hurt her. "It was last March, and needless to say, I liked a guy. And things don't go as planned. My friend and I, we were close with him. And when I told her, she told him the same night. I had begged her not to say I word to him about it, but she obviously did." She paused and glanced towards his face behind her glasses. She was glaring at him as well. His face showed no recognition or pity. Just complete attention. "When he found out, it wasn't that bad, at least at the beginning, it wasn't. We still talked like we had before he found out, but he started to fade slowly. Until one day, he didn't say anything to me at all. The next day the same thing happened. This went on for a week. Then I moved out here. I couldn't be around him, it hurt to much." She silently sniffled a sob on the verge of breaking through.
Last thing she needed was him seeing how much damage he did to her. She could talk freely about her mom leaving, her grandmother dying, when her sister moved out, but this particular dark moment in her history. She couldn't speak of it without a flood bursting through. Her roommate even knew this and not to speak about it. She asked why she moved to the flashlight state the minute they met. It had been a night filled with empty ice creamy boxes and every Nicolas Sparks movie on the market.
"I don't really want to go too into detail about all of my knotted emotions with a stranger right now. I'm sorry." She grabbed her magazine and half drunk coffee cup. As she was standing up getting ready to leave, he caught her wrist.
"Ok, I shouldn't asked too much about it. But I do want to get to know you better, Allison." She sighed, knowing she couldn't get out of this situation easily. Her glasses were slipping, she needed her hand to fix them before they fell off. If they did she was stuck.
"You know what, it's alright. I might as well get it off my chest." She placed her stuff back in her corner and sat down where she was previously. The tattered and torn cushion had sunk and molded to her previous position.
She began again. "As I was saying, it hurt, a lot. I didn't want to see him again. Let alone have the dreadful conversation. He killed me inside. I felt completely useless and thrown out. He blatantly ignored me, and it crushed me. The person I cared about so much, couldn't even be near me over something as stupid as this. I went a year thinking it was my fault he ignored me, that I ruined his dance that was the following weekend. I was so upset at myself and I was mad. Like really mad, but at myself rather than the clear person at fault. I didn't realize until a few months ago that it wasn't my fault. I couldn't help it" She looked down at her lap, unknowing to her plastic cover sliding down the bridge of her nose. It was taking all of her not to burst into tears. It was a very touchy subject and she wasn't really wanting to discus it with this particular person. She didn't realize until she heard the clatter when they hit the wooden table.
"Shit." She mumbled barely audible. She wasn't sure if he had heard her, but he studied the features she possessed. It wouldn't be long before he fully recognized her.
She kept her head down and mustered up the courage to speak. "Well now you know my story, so I best be going." She let out in a rushed, jumbled sentence. Her voice was quivered and untrustworthy. She was visibly shaking. Everything was shaking. She grabbed her magazine and placed her now empty mug on the washing conveyer belt. Her sunglasses were in her hand rather than her face. She was already exposed. "It was nice seeing you again, Austin." She waved in his direction and made her way out the door without a second glance back.
Well, maybe one.
One glance that resulted in sheer recognition of her true identity. Austin waited for her to turn the corner before he got up and followed her. He needed to speak with her. It all slowly came together. Allison, was actually Ally. And the douche that had hurt her was him. Lillanne had told him. They stayed close oddly enough, even after she moved. He could never help the guilt that ate at him everyday for doing what he had done. It was Lillanne's idea, saying she was obsessed with him. He later figured out that it was her who was obsessed rather than Ally. He had spent months trying to track her down, but Lester refused to tell him. He couldn't go over there without being threatened. He still did however. "Ally, wait up. Hey, wait up!" He screamed down the crowded sidewalk. He'd loose her at this rate. So he stopped running, ran his fingers through his now mangled locks, and turned towards his loft complex. It was useless anyways.
It was past midnight before he got back. All he wanted to do was curl up on the couch and drown himself in old useless memories of when things weren't so complicated and in depth. He missed that innocent- okay, he'd admit he was never that innocent- feeling. He was stupid then, he had changed so much since last year. That affected his future plans drastically. He questioned his judgement over everything the minute he heard that she was gone. He distanced himself from his friends, his parents, his track teammates, everyone. He had hurt his best friend without even knowing how much it affected her. Of course he knew it changed her, she moved across the country because of him, and he hated that. He never meant to make her cry, even if he never saw it. It wasn't planned, none of this was planned.
But that's the way life works sometimes, most of the time. You set these plans on a track and expect everything to go as it was thought of and mentally planned out. Then one thing goes moonstruck, and next thing you know so does everything else. He hated that. She hated that.
After darting away from her blond overseer, she settled herself at a slow, New Yorker pace. She adapted quickly to the new change in neighbors and buildings. Her roommate had spent the first 2 months helping her adjust to this new lifestyle quite harshly if you asked her, but it was definitely worth doing so. She couldn't help but allow her mind to drift back to the blond. Why was he in New York? And how long would he be here? Would she have to move again? How long had he previously been here? Where was he staying? All these thoughts swarmed her.
And she hated it. She hated him. It killed her that she liked him still, it was just so undeniably hate worthy. And she hated that too. Most of all, she hated that she still loved him. That, she definitely hated.
It was getting dark. The population shuffling through the sidewalk had slowly diminished. She made it to her apartment sometime after 11. She honestly didn't care. Her roommate was out for the week, visiting her parents and sickly aunt in Venezuela. Her room key was stuck in the zipper of her clutch, but she needed out of the hallway. She heard footsteps and feared the worst. He had followed her. She let her mind take control for a moment and slid inside the room across from hers. The door was open a hair. So why not?
Needless to say, it was not one of her best decisions. She knew little of her neighbor. She knew they had moved in when the Carreys moved out last fall. And they were almost never home. That, she knew very well. Nothing else came to mind other than they live alone and she was now standing by their refrigerator along the kitchen wall. He- she now knew the gender and well damn, he was hot- was faced towards the ground, sitting on the curved, cream couch. It looked plush from her distance, which it was. She continued to hear the footsteps in the hall, so she lightly pushed the door to, making as little noise as humanly possible. Them scooted farther into the loft space. Her presence was still unknown, which would result in lots of screaming and shouting. She knocked on the counter. Not a good idea.
"Hi, I'm sorry to bug you at this time of night. I though someone was following me and my room key was stuck and...gah...it's just been a bad night." She stuttered out of breath informing the owner of her existence. He didn't turn around or show any startle-ment. He just simply nodded.
"It's fine. I can tell by the tone in your voice you need someone to talk to. If you hadn't noticed, I love alone, you're welcome to stay and filter out. I've been told I give good hugs." He gestured for her to come forth to him. She carefully agreed and sauntered to the couch. She attached him with a massive hug. "Hey Ally? I'm sorry." He whispered in her neck. She nodded.
"Friends?" She extended her arm after they sat down, well, she sat down. He gladly took it. "I'm just so done with arguing. Yes, there's no doubt that you hurt me beyond repair. But everyone deserves a second chance." She finished with a shrug. He knew she should hate him. Hell, she even knew she should hate him. And she should. But she didn't. She was just fine with them going back to square one, it was probably better to do so anyways. He didn't agree.
So he kissed her. Hard. He always was just a troublemaker. But know he's her troublemaker, and they're both just fine with that.
You will never read this. It isn't your fandom. But I don't care. This is me finally filtering out everything you did to me, even if it was last March. I hate you, so freaking much. I've dreamed of the day I could say it to your face. But you still refuse to talk to me. I don't care anymore, you didn't, so why should I? This is all my hate adding up and just exploding. All the things you never knew. Well here they are. She was supposed to not say a word. I told her not to, but she ignored me plea and told you the same day. I tried to tell you that. But clearly it didn't go over well. That message I sent? I wasn't saying I didn't care that I apparently ruined your plans for the dance, I was saying I didn't care that you had a date and I was okay with that. You weren't even supposed to know. You broke me. I spent almost the entire summer mad at myself, at you, at her. I was awful. My parents saw I change in my mood, I wasn't as peppy or as bubbly as I was before you happened. My mom thought I was on drugs. That's how bad I was. You killed me. And you never wouldn't known. I hate you so freaking much. I hate what you put me through. I hate you Bobby Feller. And I am just fine with saying that out loud for the rest of my fandom to know just why you did. So here you are, still 3 houses down and I'm friends with your sister, but you say nothing. That February before so so amazing, how could it change just like that? Stupid, scared little boy. And just so you know, I'm so much better now. You can go screw yourself. Who knows, you probably do.