Chapter 1: Like She's Flying
Disclaimer: In short, I don't own Austin and Ally. Thanks for making me say it you little meanies. (Just kidding, you guys are all sweethearts!)
Warnings: Um I don't think there's TOO many...not that I'm aware of. Let's think here. Well it's darker than my usual stuff, but pretty much only at the beginning. I would also just like to say: I think Mr. Dawson is a very nice guy, but for the purposes of this story, he's pretty much a right jerk. Oh and this story is really AU. Like a lot. or at least very very OOC.
Now we'll really get on with it!
Reposting! I'll do one chapter a day so as not to spam ya'll. The new chapter will be Chapter 14!
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I liked the feeling of the shower. For about ten minutes, I am alone, and nothing can hurt me. My mom used to say that showers were her happy place, because they were the one place she could be alone to actually think. For me, it was sort of the opposite. When I was in the shower, I didn't think. Thinking hurt too much. It meant that the things I had to think about could be magnified millions more times in my brain, and cause me pain, even there. But if I didn't think, I could ignore the pain for a little while. And I liked it that way.
Of course, it was usually cold water, but I'd grown used to it. My dad tended to use the hot water up. Only when he was gone did I get to take all the time and warm water in the world. When my mom was still here, he was always gone. His business was demanding- or at least, that's what he told us. But we were still happy. Some kind of delusional, naive, forced happy, but it was there. I had thought once Mom left that he would be gone even more, but I was wrong. He was at home all the time, usually typing on his laptop or watching the game. He used to be a workaholic, and he still was, to an extent. Except now he pushed all his store duties on me, and left the "business end" to himself. So pretty much, I worked for bare minimum and he did nothing and profitted. You know, the usual father-daughter business relationship.
Today had been one of his worse days. I got home and he hadn't even said a word to me before it began. Usually we at least could exchange some type of greeting before I did something wrong, but today I'd barely stepped a foot in the door before it happened. I didn't do anything wrong- not that I was aware of. Or maybe I had and just didn't know it. Obviously I had to have done something wrong for me to be in trouble like that. It's the only logical explanation.
The slam into the wall was a little rougher today. The punches were a little harder, the slaps had a little more force behind them than usual. I blamed myself, for letting the house and store become a total mess yesterday. After all, it was my job to keep them clean and orderly, and I'd failed at that.
I failed at everything.
That's what he told me,
School.
Work.
Singing.
Writing.
Public speaking.
Making friends.
Being alive.
I splashed my face with cold water and took a deep breath in. Just get through it, and you'll be fine, I tell myself. Just take a deep breath and appear as if it's normal. Never cry, you'll be fine. Never show pain, you'll be fine. Never cry, never cry.
Never cry.
That was my mantra. Never cry. It had been for years now, and so far it worked great. It was quite simple: no one ever saw me cry. Ever. Not when I was hurt, not when I was throwing up, I didn't cry. As Fergie says, "Big girls don't cry." And so I don't. Except when I'm around him, he makes me feel almost okay, and almost as if I can finally let all my walls down. I never do of course, but it's the feeling that I can. And quite honestly, it should scare me. It should frighten me to think that he makes me want to cry. But it's a good thing. No one else makes me feel like I can let my walls down, and he does. Never do I actually do it, though. And I never will.
"Allison?" My dad is calling again, this time his voice is softer, almost regretful. "You done in the shower, sweetheart?"
Better answer him now before he gets mad, "Yeah dad, be right out, and I'll start dinner!" I call, adding the dinner part because I know it's what he really wanted anyway.
"Great, thanks honey!" I hear his steps retreating from the stairs and back into the living room, and I let out a sigh of relief. At least I avoided a little more anger tonight.
Towelling off, my phone rings, and I see Austin wants to videochat. He can't see me like this! I panic and quickly press Ignore. He can never see me like this, it just would cause suspicion.
I always feel bad when I ignore his FaceTime requests, but the excuses are getting harder and harder to think of. They are narrowing more and more, and I can see his frustration getting through to him. But Austin will just have to wait to talk to me, because if he sees me, he'll freak out.
Slowly, I cover up the black eye with my makeup, making sure to not apply too much pressure, lest I yell out in pain. Slowly I even out my face until it looks close to normal again. I smile to myself in the mirror, but it comes out as more of a grimace. I sigh and walk downstairs, ready to make dinner, and I see my dad on the couch as usual.
"Hi dad," I whisper, so I don't scare him. That's been proven to set it off before. "What do you want for dinner?" I start getting out the ingredients for raviolies, but knowing him, he'll want chicken instead.
"Whatever," He says flippantly. "Just make it fast." So raviolies it is.
"Sure thing, Daddy," I say quietly, trying not to interrupt his viewing of the game.
"Ally, sweetheart, I hope you're not mad at me," He replies. "You know I love you very much and I never mean it, right?"
"Right daddy," I say quickly. "I know." He coughs, expecting more. "And I love you too."
"That's my girl."
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He doesn't mean it
Of course he does! He's my dad, of course he loves me!
If he loved you, he wouldn't hurt you.
But I deserve it.
Would Austin say you deserve it?
That's different, Austin isn't my dad.
Yet he treats you better than your dad does.
And I'm having a conversation with myself, this is ridiculous! My dad loves me, he said so himself. It's just a black eye here, a bruised ribcage there. A spattering of bruises on my right arm, or a mark from a heavy piece of furniture on my leg. Nothing that can't be concealed. I'm lucky, really, that he doesn't do worse. These are all very small, nothing that is near-death. I've heard stories of people getting whipped, cut...it's awful. So my dad must love me, since he doesn't hurt me that badly.
A sigh here, a tear that wants to escape there, and I feel better. Or as best as I can feel under the circumstances.
What would Austin say if he found out?
Oh, he'd fly off the wall! He'd lose it. He'd go insane. He'd do something stupid, try and beat up my dad or worse. He'd...he'd...well he'd...
He'd be just trying to protect you. That's what he'd do.
But that's what makes him such a good friend. To do that for me. To be the guy who would hurt the man who's hurting me, instead of be the one to hurt.
Why does everything hurt?
Deep breath. Shh, Ally, you're not hurt. Shh. You're going to be alright. Hush hush. Deep breath. You're not going to cry, Shh, your life is fine. You're lucky. Shh. Deep breath, nothing can hurt you now.
But how many more deep breaths can I take before I begin to hyperventilate? How many more tears can I hold back before I explode? How many times will I say I'm not hurt before I become numb to the pain?
Why does everything hurt?
I don't know. I just don't know.
"It's time to be a big girl now, and big girls don't cry-" I quickly answer my phone, silently freaking out.
"Austin?" I ask.
"Ally? Why didn't you answer any of my texts or calls? You had me worried sick!" I hear his voice in full-on panic mode and know he's being serious.
"I'm sorry, really I am! I've been cooking dinner for my dad, and then of course we had to eat it, and then I did the dishes, and then I took a shower, and the whole time my phone was in my room and-"
"Ally, it's fine, I was just worried, that's all." He breathes out a sigh of relief and I hear music in the background.
"You playing guitar?" I ask quietly. My dad isn't exactly Austin's biggest fan.
"Eh, just strumming. So what's up?" I chip at my silver nail polish as he talks, and soon there's none left on my ring finger.
"Pretty much what I just told you!" I laugh. "Cooking, eating, chores, homework...you know the drill. What about you?"
"I just had dinner. Hey, you wanna go out for ice cream?" He asks excitedly, and it hurts that I have to say no.
"Um, not tonight, I'm really sorry. But my dad, uh...he uh got an apple pie from a friend and we're going to eat it together," I fib. That was the most obvious lie I've ever said, and he had to notice. Not to mention lame. Apple pie? I've descended to a new low.
"Apple pie, huh? Sounds, uh, patriotic. Well have fun with that. See you tomorrow? Meet at your house?"
"Uh, I was wondering if maybe we could meet at your house this time? I've never been there you know," I say, pacing around my room. I've always wondered what his house is like, he's never let me over before.
"No, no!" He cries, then takes a breath and says more calmly, "No, uh let's meet at the diner instead, okay?"
"But why can't I-"
"Ally. I'll meet you at the diner. Okay?" I know I won't win this one, and I concede.
"Alright, alright, you win." I pull on my socks and crawl into my bed, tracing the flowers on the comforter. "See you tomorrow at ten?"
"Tomorrow at ten," He affirms, and we say our goodbyes. "And Ally?"
"Yeah?"
"Try not to get into any trouble between now and when I see you, alright? No fistfights, you hear me?" I gulp-does he know something? Impossible.
"Alright, I won't," I say quickly. "Good night, Austin."
"Night Alls."
I hang up my phone, only to stare at it a while longer. There's no way he can know about this, I've been so careful to never let anything slip between us. He must have just been joking; after all, he did have a kind of joking tone to his voice, right? Totally, he did. Yup. That's it.
I catch a sight of myself in the mirror and yelp- how am I going to hide my eye from him tomorrow? It's swelled even larger than normal!
This does not bode well.
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I push my way into the diner, keeping my head down. I thought I did an okay job of covering up my eye this morning, but you never know. Austin is really perceptive; he notices even the littlest details. He noticed when I switched my braid from left to right. He noticed when I swapped out my earrings. He noticed when Tilly Thompson's shoes got a mud stain on the toes; of course, she was complaining for hours about it, but still. He noticed.
I slide into the booth and pull out my phone to kill time. There's nothing to do, really, except Instagram, but I don't get why Trish loves it so much. "Better than Facebook!" She had exclaimed at the time, and promptly signed me up. I never really use it, since it's filled with bad pictures of annoying girls like Tilly.
"Ally?" I hear Austin's voice from above me and I look up, smiling.
"Austin!" I jump up and hug him, careful to mind my bruises. If I wince too much, he'll notice and ask questions. God, I hate the questions.
"Ally! What do you want to do today?" He slides in across from me, and seems to stare at my face longer than usual. It can't be the eye. It can't.
"I don't know," I shrug. "Want to walk around the mall?"
"Not really," He says. "We did that yesterday. How about we catch a movie?" He suggests, and I wrinkle my nose. There's no good movies out anyway.
"How about we go to the boardwalk?" I say instead. "We haven't been in a while."
"Better idea!" Austin exclaims, practically jumping out of his seat.
"What?" I say just as enthusiastically. It's nice to have something to do for a change.
"Tell me what happened to your eye," He says seriously, dropping his fun tone for a serious one.
I freeze, my mouth staying around the straw of my cup. I blink, not once but twice, and decide to just stay still as a statue. But then a nanosecond later, I realize that would probably be suspicious, wouldn't it? So I take my last sip and swallow, and say, "I got hit with a volleyball."
"You got hit with a volleyball," He states skeptically.
"Yep," I lie. "I was walking along the beach yesterday with Trish and we walked past the courst and a serve went wrong and I was in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"I thought you and Trish hadn't talked in a long time?" He asks, and he knows it's the truth. "She's been too busy with her boyfriend, you said."
"Well we kind of met up," I fib, "And she was walking towards her date and I tagged along."
"Ah. I see," He says, and we both know he doesn't believe me. "Just glad it wasn't from a punch or anything. Because then we'd have to have a talk, you know that, right?"
I duck my head from his stare and nod. "Yes," I say quietly. "I know."
"Ally," He starts warningly, "Just-"
"Austin, I'm telling the truth!" I cry. "I promise!" Of course, this promise really means nothing, but, well...you know.
"Alright!" He says, throwing his hands up in the air. "I just want you to know that if anything is ever happening to you, you can tell me." His hand reaches across the table and grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him. "I'm always here, you know that."
"Yes, yes I do," I stutter. "And I've already told you that I would tell you if something really, really, bad was happening to me."
"Alright, I trust you," He says, letting go of my face. "So what do you really want to do today?"
"Want to just...just be?" I suggest. "Just be."
"Just be?" He laughs. "What do you mean?" His hand traces the intricate pattern on the back of the menu and I see the crinkle in his forehead, which only happens when he's smiling.
"You know, just be calm, and just be...just be us. Just be." I smile at my words, and I see he does too.
"You're so silly sometimes, you know that?" He throws some change down for his milkshake that never arrived and we get up. "Let's go. I hear there's a two-for-one special down at the cell phone accessory cart."
"Well you know how much I love a two-for-one special," I say seriously as we walk out. "Twofer!"
"Again, you're so weird sometimes." We push out into the sunlight and pass Billl-with three l's- and wave slightly.
"Hey, you said silly the first time, not weird!" I protest as we walk around, trying to make sure no one sees my eye too well.
"You're both!" He cries. "You're silly and weird and funny and crazy and-"
"-a failure," I fill in automatically, then catch myself. "Uh, I mean..."
"Ally, why'd you say that?" He asks quizzically, and I see the worry in his eyes. "Why do you do that, huh? Why are you always putting yourself down?"
"I'm...well you know, I mean..."
"Ally." He grabs me by the shoulders and looks straight into my eyes. "You. Are. Not. A. Failure. And you need to remember that. Whoever tells you that, or lets you believe that, they're the one who's a failure. A failure at being able to see smart, beautiful, perfect people when they come around." He runs his thumb pads over my shoulders and I breathe in and out slowly.
"Austin," I whisper. "I...never mind. Thanks." I shrug his shoulders off and continue walking.
"Ally? Please don't walk away. What the hell is going on with you lately? You're so...well I don't know, but I want you to tell me."
"Nothing is going on, Austin!" I cry. "I...nothing. I think I might have the flu or something."
"But it's summer," Austin protests, and I know he's not going to give this up easily.
"Summer flu?" I say, but it comes out more like a question than anything.
"Right. Summer flu. This wouldn't have anything to do with how puffy your eye looks, would it?" This kid is too damn observant, I'll tell you that right off the bat.
"Austin, I'm fine, alright? Can we just go do something now, please?" I grab his hand and tug him forward, not sure where we're going, but we're going somewhere. Somewhere away from this conversation.
"I thought you wanted to just be," He says with confusion in his voice.
"Well I changed my mind!" I snap, then soften my tone when I see his shocked face. "I mean, let's do as much as we can before summer ends."
"As much as we can before summer ends?" He asks, and I know he's dropped the conversation for a little bit.
"Yup. We've gotta jampack this summer with, um, fun!" I ad lib, and jump a little bit, feigning excitement,
"Ally, you're so fickle!" He laughs. "One day you want to just relax all summer and the next you want to do everything all before school starts. Which, by the way, is in two weeks, so we've wasted all summer, smart one!" He laughs but takes my hand and pulls me towards the arcade. "Guess we can start here."
"Sounds good," I agree, and begin to kick his butt at air hockey.
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"So, you excited for school?" Austin asks over snow-cones. "Finally upperclassmen. And you're going to turn seventeen finally!"
"I am excited to be seventeen," I admit. "One year closer to eighteen. But I won't be seventeen until January*, so..."
"Well...anyway, know where you want to go to college?" He asks, slurping up the last of his snowcone and throwing it away. "Any ideas?"
"I don't really know...I mean, I want to stay close, but at the same time, I want to move far, far away!" I spread my arms out and twirl around in the middle of the park. "I want to fly like a bird, soar far away from all this. Except you, of course," I add hastily. "I don't want to be so far from you."
"I don't want to be far from you, either, but we need to agree that we won't pick any colleges based on each other, alright? I don't want to influence your decision, and have you end up bitter and hating me because you skipped out on something you want." He grabs my hands as I twirl and spins me around sloppily, like five year olds might as they dance.
"I promise I won't choose my college solely based on you!" I laugh as we trip over each others' feet. "Hey! You got snowcone on my shirt!"
"You deserved it," He singsongs. "You're the one twirling around in the middle of a public park like a silly little kid. What would your father say?" He asks in mock disproval. "He'd be so dissapointed."
"My dad!" I cry, standing straight up. "My dad! That reminds me! I've got to go, I have to start dinner and I have to-" I turn to walk home and Austin grabs my hand.
"Ally, you're sixteen, not forty-six, so why are you acting like a housewife, huh? You're a teenager, you need to have fun!"
"I've got to go home-" I say, tugging away. "Meet same time tomorrow?"
"Ally. It's only six o clock, for God's sake, you can stay out for ten minutes longer." Austin cocks an eyebrow at my frantic tugging and fast pace. "Ally? Is something wrong?"
"No! I just promised my dad I'd get home, and-" I tug harder. "Let go! Okay!"
He drops my arm in surprise and backs away. "Oh-okay. Alright, uh, let's get you home," He says quietly, and we begin the walk home in silence.
Five minutes later, we're at my door and her turns to go home. "Austin!" I call, running after him. "I forgot something!"
"What?" He asks, not meeting my eyes. I can practically see the wheels in his mind turning as he thinks over what's been happening, namely, my crazy mood swings and secrecy.
"Thanks for an awesome day," I say as I hug him. "Love you."
"I love you too," He says, squeezing tight, and I try not to wince. "See you tomorrow, Same time, same place, whole new day."
"Same time, same place, whole new day," I repeat quietly as he walks away. Smiling to myself, I open and shut the door- only to be met with the red and angry face of my dad.
This does not look good.
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The back of his hand was rough against my still-sore cheek and I gasped. "Dad! What did I-"
"When were you supposed to be home?" He demanded roughly. "Tell me!"
"Six, but-" I stammered, only to be interrupted.
"No buts. When were you supposed to be home?" He asked again, face still as red as a tomato. Or maybe Santa Claus' suit. I'm not so sure.
"Six," I muttered.
"And what time is it now?" He asked, pointing my head towards the timer on the oven, which read 6:34.
"6:30," I said, then added, "Well, 6:34."
"Are you being smart with me?" He asked, giving me another little shake. "Huh? I told you six o clock and you come waltzing in here a half hour later as if you're the Queen Of England! Well you know what, you aren't! I have it on good authority that the Queen of England is named Elizabeth! And last time I checked you weren't named Elizabeth, so what does that mean?" He shouted, throwing his arms in the air as he stalked around the kitchen.
"What does it mean?" I sighed, knowing he'd just tell me anyway.
"It means, Allison, that you are not the Queen of England, which means you can not come waltzing in here like you are!" He screamed, face even redder now. "I told you to be in by six o clock every night, and you weren't! You were with that idiot blonde friend of yours, weren't you? Weren't you?"
"Yes, yes I was!" I admitted, seeing how angry he was when I didn't answer the first time. "I was with Austin, we were in the park, and we were-"
"I don't want to know what you two were doing down in the park, you little slut," He muttered. "Just make dinner, I have to leave by 7:30." He began walking away and pointed to the mess of dishes in the sink. "And clean that up."
"W-where are you going?" I asked, trying not to cry over the fact my dad had called me a slut.
"It's none of your business, but since you obviously need to go about making yourself the most annoying thing on the planet today, I'm going out with Jay and William, we're going out for drinks. Won't be back until late, don't wait up for me," He mumbled as he walked out of the kitchen.
I waited until I heard the door to the bathroom click closed before sliding down the counter and onto the floor, checking my latest bruises. I'm sure the one on my cheek was even worse than usual, according to the already purple bruises on my forearm. Great. This should be fun to cover up and try to explain to Austin tomorrow.
Austin. Shit, he's going to blow up if he sees more bruises on me. He's already pissed about my eye, but the new stuff on top of it? He's not going to be a pretty sight tomorrow. Of course, neither will I, but I haven't been a pretty sight in quite some time.
The ravioli water boils over and I rush to clean it up before my dad hears the sizzling and yells about the mess. He could find anything to yell about, really, he could. The house, the store, the way dinner was made. Anything and everything, and I always got the brunt of it. My mom used to be the first one to see him in the morning, and I'd always complain that he was so cranky, but she'd simply shake her head and say, "You don't know the half of it, dear."
Now I do.
He was getting worse and worse. It used to be few and far between, the times he'd hit me, and they usually seemed accidental. But they weren't; they aren't. And then they started becoming less and less of an "accident" and more and more on purpose. And then they started happening at least twice a week, and now, every night.
I was getting so tired.
Tired of my home life.
Tired of my dad.
Tired of lying to Austin.
Tired of feeling so worthless.
But I kept going. Why, I'm not sure. Maybe for the sole reason that I'm a dreamer, a believer, a person with hope. Maybe for the fact that I'll be out of here in two years, and then I can be as far away from my dad as I want. Once I'm in college, he won't be able to hurt me. I'll be far away. flying high like a bird. Soaring through the sky, weightless, limitless, free.
Free.
I kind of like the sound of that.
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AN: *I know it's not January, but I made her birthday January for story purposes. So we can all deal with it;) *
So I know this is way darker than what I usually write, and I feel kind of bad for making Lester the bad guy, but, well, that's the story. And besides, he's nice in my other stuff, so. Yup. Anyay, in case you didn't figure it out: Ally's dad hits her, he always apologizes afterwards, but obviously he's not very sorry. She hasn't told Austin, but she will very soon. Or actually, he'll find out. Or maybe someone else will tell him. Who knows? That's the magic of me knowing and you not! Oh, that was mean, I feel bad.
Well anyway, please review, stay safe, and be happy!
xx