disclaimer: the characters of austin & ally belong to disney, however the plot line is mine.
chapter i
I still remember that day perfectly—no matter how much I will myself to forget it, it's as if that memory is permanently etched into my brain. I wish I had known then what I know now. I wish warning bells had gone off louder and clearer at first sight of him. It was a Thursday in the first week of September. It was unbelievably hot and sticky and usual for Miami's summer. It was the day I met Austin Moon.
Allyson Dawson—September 6th, 2013.
"Love at first sight? That's bullshit. It was hate at first sight."
I trudged down the wide, bending streets, feeling the weight of my backpack resuming its place as a bloody nuisance on my already aching back. I considered the shadows casting off my moving form, my eyes traipsing down to my feet, adorned in plain Chucks which my feet were already sweating violently in. My constant discomfort was only another unpleasant reminder that this was the first day back at school— the first day of my final year of school.
Mentally cursing my parents for buying a house in a neighbourhood where no public transport was within ten minutes walking distance, I ungracefully hitched my heavy dress from riding too high up my ass. That morning, I'd fallen into the regular routine of complaining to my mother about the preposterous distance I'd have to walk, then enduring the stinking train ride only to end up at a school barely two kilometres from our house. My parent's endearing refusal to allow me to own a car, and subsequent refusal to drive me to school really pissed me off, especially in the sweltering hot months of summer.
"Fucking Florida," I swore under my breath, swatting a fly from my face and not caring who the hell heard me. For someone whose family had lived in the state for generations, I should've been well accustomed to the warm weather, but simply wasn't. I easily preferred the cooler months of winter, much to my parent's shock, given their preferences.
Finally rounding my way around the corner and slowly walking up the steps to the familiar old station, I swiftly pulled my train pass from the pockets inside my phone case, impatiently validating my travel. Making my way to the platform and shoving my headphones in, I was pleased to notice the next train was departing in less than a minute. As the sound of soothing music filled my ears, I diverted my ears from the asphalt ground, looking around and was greeted by the sight of the usual suspects: businesspeople, private school kids like myself, and the occasional odd one out who fell into neither of those categories.
Like expected, each person had changed slightly in their appearance. Girls' dresses were shorter, their make-up heavier and their legs a darker shade of brown. Whether that was natural or cosmetic, I couldn't care less. Boys had grown bigger, more predominant muscles were showing and often their school shorts hung lower. Businesspeople only looked older, more bags framing their eyes and more lines creasing their foreheads. Unlike us schoolkids, they had been deprived of the eleven weeks' holiday we probably took for granted.
The loud and overpowering honk of the train sounded, signalling it had almost arrived. I sighed in relief, glad the long and painful wait underneath the hot sun was almost over. Train-goers, myself included, robotically picked up their bags and moved systematically closer to the edge of the platform, ready to get on the train. It was then that the echoes of quickened footsteps resembling someone running up the steps to the station resonated in my eardrums.
Bothering to turn around in curiosity, I was greeted with the sight of a tall, tan, blonde boy wearing the same uniform as me fumbling in his backpack as he continued running. I'd never seen him before. Noticing the flash of a white piece of paper being whipped from the bag, I expected him to board the train which had now arrived in front of me. Instead what I witnessed was something quite the contrary.
The blonde boy had clearly no idea what he was doing, placing the ticket in every configuration you could think of except the correct one. His eyes glanced worriedly at the train where passengers were now getting off of, and others were starting to board.
Stifling my laughter at his utter stupidity, I turned on my heel ready to get on the poorly air-conditioned carriage when a strong grip on my upper-right arm prevented me from doing so.
"What the fuck?" I hissed, before whipping my ponytail in a circular motion and meeting honey brown eyes belonging to the unintelligent blonde boy.
He looked alarmed, silent for a second before babbling, "Do you go to my school?"
"Yes," I spat, tugging my arm from his slackened grip, "Now leave me the fuck alone."
Attempting to board the train, I was able to run two steps before being stopped, once again.
"I can't get my fucking train ticket crap to work," the boy spoke again in a quickened manner, this time with a noticeable accent. It was American without a doubt, but it sounded as though it'd been mixed with something else.
"And remind me why I give a shit?" I retaliated, desperate for him to leave me alone so I could get on the damned train and not be stuck any longer at the stinking station with the stinking flies. "I have a bloody train to catch."
"Can you just help me, please?"
I glared angrily into his pleading eyes, ready to hurl a whole bunch of colourful swear words and insults his way, when I heard the train signal sound again, followed by the sound of wheels screeching into motion. Turning my head in dismay, I watched the train head off in the distance.
"Fucking hell!" I yelled, dumping my school bag on the scorching bitumen with heat radiating off it. The blonde boy took a step back in surprise, too scared to talk. It was now only the two of us, as all the other passengers had either boarded the train I should've been on, or had dissipated down the steps of Coconut Grove station, eager to get out of the heat.
After a few beats had passed I forced myself to look back at the blonde boy, swallowing any offensive comments brewing in my throat and formed my lips into a straight—yet clearly pissed—line.
"Hand me the ticket," I said in low, shallow breaths, outstretching my hand and looking at the boy expectantly.
"What?" he blinked, really not helping my assumption that he was mentally deficient.
"I said, hand me the damned ticket," after I was greeted with another blank look, I snatched it from his hand.
Walking briskly over to the validating machines, I shoved the ticket in, albeit very unhappily. Once it had confirmed his travel, I glared at him darkly.
"Thanks," he attempted to smile at me, which I greeted with the monthly-pass being thrust into his palm.
"Now don't fucking ask for my help again, got it?" I picked up my bag so quickly I didn't see his small nod, swinging it over my shoulder and groaning when I saw the train screens.
"Hey! Wait up, what's the matter?" The blonde hastily grabbed his own school bag, running after my annoyed stomps.
"You're the matter!" I barked in an outburst, spinning on my heels and jabbing my finger into his chest. "Because of you and your bloody inability to use a train ticket, I am going to have to wait another six fucking minutes for the next train."
His chest sagged slightly, possibly in guilt, and was about to mouth a 'sorry' when I told him, "Don't bother", removing my finger from his torso.
I stalked off to find a seat along the platform, preferably providing some refuge from the morning sun, when the footsteps of the annoying blonde entered behind me.
"What?" I questioned impatiently, folding my arms before the idiot even had a chance to open his mouth.
"I just came to tell you that it says the next train leaves in two minutes, not six like you said." He smirked smugly, only angering me further, but nonetheless wiping the pissed expression off my face for a split second when I believed him.
"God, you're such a dumbass."
"Huh?" he uncrossed his arms, turning to check the screens, "but it says—"
"Yes," I breathed, exasperated with his stupidity, "it says the next train leaves in two minutes, would you like a prize?"
My voice dripped in sarcasm, and a look of annoyance crossed his face for the shortest period of time before it was replaced by the one I had mainly been encountered with—a look of confusion.
"If you want to go to the city, then I definitely advise you to get on that train. Hell, on consideration, I want you to get on that train. That way, I won't have to deal with your bullshit."
"So I'm guessing I don't want to get on that train then, know-it-all?" He rolled his eyes, shifting his feet awaiting my response.
"No, you twat, you do not want to go into the city. If you want to go to school, you have to get off at Douglas Rd, which this next train does not stop at." I narrowed my eyes, slowly spacing out each word, the volume of my voice increasing slightly with each word I spoke. "Thanks to you, we have to wait six minutes for a train that stops at bloody Douglas Rd."
He tightened his jaw in defeat, speaking the next sentence as if each word was a stab in the heart. "Thanks for the clarification."
I could tell by his tone that there was nothing sincere about his previous statement, and from this, I had already made what I considered to be a fairly accurate judge of character, though I didn't even know his name. He was a blonde, intelligence-lacking, conceited jerk of a dickhead.
"You're a fucking dipshit."
He scoffed, rolling his eyes yet again.
"And you'll want to stop doing that, or else your eyes will get swallowed into the void where your brain's supposed to be."
His mouth hung agape; obviously no one had ever dared insult him in his life as much as I had done within the space of five minutes. Granted, I knew I was acting like a first-class bitch, but I was too hot and sticky and fed up with public transport to care.
"Cat got your tongue, smart-ass?"
The blonde boy's mouth opened and closed, and I tightened the fold of my arms, feeling as though it was my turn to smirk smugly at the idiot in front of me.
Whilst in his state of utter surprise, I was able to properly study the person in front of me. He was certainly tall— I'd already gathered that— but just how tall he was only just becoming apparent to me. The boy had to be over six foot, at least, easily towering over my 5"2 frame. I could just see the bottom of his biceps poking out from underneath the bottom of his shirt sleeve, and I guess one could say that he was well-built.
He also possessed that type of hair which 'flops exactly the right way' and 'looks like he's just gotten out of bed' as I'd heard girls so eloquently describe males like him, except no other boys at Marino had hair quite the same colour as him. It was a bright dirty-blonde, and I'd bet that it was bleached, though I knew he'd reverently deny any such claims, pulling the 'all natural, only sun bleached' bullshit.
What bothered me even more, however, was his bloody face. Jesus, the mixture of his chestnut eyes, straight, white teeth and hard jawline pissed me the hell off. Then on top of it all, his skin had this naturally tan, no-blemish look about it, though I'd also argue that was fake too. I knew that as soon as he stepped through the Marino gates, he'd send all the girls into frenzy. However, I refused to fall for any bullshit of the sort. I would not—could not—find him attractive. Just spending five minutes around his shitty personality was enough to turn me off him completely.
Shaking out of his trance, his crooked smirk returned right back in its place.
"You know, you're the first girl here I've really spoken to. And I have to say, not at all what I expected."
"What, I'm not some ditzy slut that'll fall for your charms in a heartbeat? Because, from what I've gathered, they're the sort of girls you'd be interested in. And for the record, there'll be plenty of them as soon as you get to school."
He scowled, but quickly smirked again, getting better at dealing with my quick retorts.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but that's not what I meant. You're…" he looked me up and down, "different."
"Fuck off."
If I'd said that this stranger consciously looking me up and down didn't bother me, I'd be lying. I wasn't one of those blonde, massively tanned, bikini-clad girls that most people pictured when they thought of Miami. I had naturally wavy chocolate brown hair which I only ever bothered to put up in a messy bun or ponytail, and matching brown eyes. I couldn't be fucked with make-up, so during summer a few dark freckles dotted my nose. My eyebrows weren't perfectly plucked and my lips weren't a perfect plump rosy shade of pink.
I wasn't constantly going shopping or partying like most seventeen year olds should be, I was studying and having sleepovers with my best friend. Unlike most girls my age, I wasn't downing alcohol and making out with random boys every second I could. I most certainly placed higher priority over good grades and intelligence rather than popularity, and was fluent in bullshit, not far from mastering the art of sarcasm, awkwardly comprehensive in French and okay at English, too.
I was very strong-willed, probably too much for my own good. If anyone dared put anything past me or my friends, I'd beat the hell out of them. I'd probably be considered pretty stubborn too, but I didn't really care about what anyone at school thought of me. We were at that fuckery to learn, not to win a personality contest, or find a soul mate, for that matter. I'd come to the conclusion that true love—or any love—was bullshit. Love didn't exist. If anyone knew that, it was me. I'd learned the hard way.
"What year are you in, Ticket Girl?"
"What the fuck did you just call me?"
"Aw, don't you like the nickname?" He grinned at me in a way he knew I would be right pissed. Fucking hell, this dipshit was already pushing my buttons.
"You're a fucking idiot; you know how stupid you sound?" He shrugged, dismissing the comment.
"Doesn't matter. Now, answer my question, what year are you in?" I clenched my fists.
"Must you know?" My jaw tightened.
"Yes, I must, Ticket Girl." Pursing my lips together at his deliberate overuse of that nickname, I breathed in deeply.
"Fine, for the sake of my sanity and the sake of your balls, I'm a senior. And everything was great until you had to show up at this train station with your motherfucking ticket and ruin my morning. I swear to God, if you fuck up my final year of high school, I will see that you can't have children." My eyes threw daggers, controlled venom lacing my voice.
"Calm your shit, Ticket Girl, I'm not going to fuck up your year. For your information, it looks like we'll be seeing a whole lot more of each other. I'm a senior—"
"Oh, for fuck's sake."
"—I'm a senior too."
"Oh fucking Jesus. You're in my year level. Brilliant, just brilliant."
"I—"
"Train to Douglas Rd departing Platform 1 now."
"Thank God," I breathed, glad the intercom had finally sounded. I had never been happier to see a train in my life. "As much as it pains me, if you want to get to school, you have to get on this train, dickhead."
The blonde boy copied me, picking up his bag and throwing it over his shoulder, traipsing behind me to wait closer for the train.
"What the fuck are you doing?" I hissed at him, "Get on another fucking carriage, dipshit."
"I have no idea where the hell I'm going, Ticket Girl, so I'm following you. Surely you can put up with me until we get to school."
"Is that a question or a statement?" I asked as the train rolled in to a halt, "Because if that's a question, my answer's no." He rolled his eyes. "And how the fuck do you not know where you're going?"
"I've never gone to Marino via train, okay? The other times I've been there, my parents have driven, and quite frankly, I don't have much of a sense of direction."
"I don't doubt it," I muttered, before adding more audibly, "Look, it's really quite simple. All you have to do is get off at the next station, like legitimately five minutes away. There's a voiceover announcing it and neon signs at each end of the carriage. Then when you get off, I'm sure there'll be other Marino kids you can follow, kids that have a higher tolerance for you than I do. It's not that hard."
He shook his head definitively. "No, I'm certain I'll get lost. I'm sorry Ticket Girl, but I'm following you."
"I fucking hate you, dipshit," I said, ignoring the appalled stares of an elderly lady behind me.
Stepping onto the crowded train, I didn't have time to witness the boy's reaction, shuffling into a tiny corner and placing my bag against the wall, grabbing the walls of the train for stability. Already cramped, I was far less than pleased when the blonde dipshit came and stood in front of me, effectively smothering me, since he was so much taller.
"You're taking all my fucking oxygen, idiot!" I spoke through gritted teeth, weakly pushing him away. "Move!"
"I'm sorry," he said in a tone that was not at all sorry, "But I'm not used to having this problem."
"I don't give a shit about whether you used to have this problem," I said bluntly, taking short, sharp breaths, "And don't try and tell me that you've never had to deal with shitty public transport."
"I haven't," he sighed, smirking, running one hand through his hair and using the other to stabilise himself as the train swayed dangerously from side to side, "I used to drive everywhere."
"Well, then here's an idea: drive yourself to school and leave me the fuck alone."
"I can't, Ticket Girl, because my car is still at the garage. I, uh, dented it."
"How sad," I muttered darkly, trying my best to balance as I not-so-gracefully bumped into a businessman and a younger woman. "I'm really getting tired of that fucking nickname."
"Then tell me your real name, Ticket Girl. I'm going to find out eventually," he smirked. I scoffed, scrunching up my nose in disgust.
"In your dreams, dipshit."
He continued smirking, looking down on me with an unreadable glint in his eyes. I desperately tried to avoid his gaze, but it was seemingly impossible.
"I'm Austin. Austin Moon." Holding out his free hand, I merely shook my head in distaste.
"Don't flatter yourself, idiot."
Austin Moon.
He laughed arrogantly, and I gladly pushed past him as the train began to slow.
"Where are you going, Ticket Girl?"
"I'm getting off the damned train, Einstein. Maybe you'd like to do that, too?"
"Maybe I would," he sniggered, awkwardly weaving through the many passengers. It was clear to anyone that he was inexperienced.
As soon as the doors opened, I rushed off the carriage, hoping to get as far away from the blonde nuisance as possible.
"Hey! Ticket Girl, wait up!" The dipshit jogged behind my brisk strides, as I fumbled in my dress pockets to find my iPhone, eager to drown out the sound of his frustrating American voice.
He walked beside me, much to my annoyance keeping up with my quick pace. Running was always an option, but I had decided that I didn't need any more sweat dripping off my already wet forehead. Bloody Florida and its bloody hot summer.
I smiled self-righteously, enjoying how my ignorance seemed to drive him round the bend. I could barely hear him babbling a bunch of jumbled words, and out of my peripheral vision noticed his facial expressions becoming more infuriated and his cheeks noticeably turned a darker shade of red.
"—Listen to me Ticket Girl, Jesus!" Obviously fed up with my complete disregard for his presence, the blonde—Austin, as he was supposedly called—pulled my right headphone from my ear.
"Fuck off, dickhead!" I glared, my once content smile dropping instantly from my features.
"Can you even speak English, Ticket Girl? Because all I've been getting from you is curses and insults!" He rubbed his temples in anger, his voice heightening slightly. That shut me up, my cool façade dropping.
"I—" I mumbled, his question really throwing me off guard.
"Just forget about it." He exhaled deeply, his voice tiring. "Look, I'm not asking for much. Can I just follow you to school for one damned day and then I'll leave you alone, Ticket Girl?"
With the mention of the nickname, anger quickly replaced my slackened composure, cursing through my veins.
"Stop calling me fucking Ticket Girl and I'll consider it."
"Can I please follow you to Marino this one day?" He spoke tightly, and I doubted he'd ever had to ask too many people for their hospitality.
A few beats passed, and with a purse of my lips and a groan, I ripped the other headphone from my left ear, walking defiantly down the footpath. Realising he wasn't following me, I turned sharply on my heel, glaring impatiently at the boy at the top of the descent.
"Are you coming or not?"
I whipped my head back around before I could hear his reply, and it wasn't long before shortened footsteps and a panting breath filled my eardrums, another figure casting a shadow on the concrete. We walked in silence, only the sound of our heavy black shoes making contact with the ground filling the void.
"Ally. My name's Ally." I spoke subtly, tilting my head slightly to witness his surprised reaction: a blink, followed by the widening of his eyes. "Well, actually, it's Allyson, but if you dare call me that I'll fucking murder you."
Shaking out of his stupor, he grinned. "Thanks for telling me, Allyson."
"Dickhead."
Having the blonde dickhead lagging beside me for the entire journey from Douglas Rd station to Marino was far from the greatest experience in my life. Becoming acquainted with his terrible personality before his name, I dubbed it appropriate to refer to him as what he'd probably consider an offensive insult, hence my refusal to call him Austin. Having a colourful array of curse words to choose from, I'd eventually settled on 'dipshit'. I thought it suited him well.
Throughout the painfully long and hot walk, the dipshit had consistently reminded me that he'd only moved back to Miami after a decade from California less than two weeks ago, thus his incredible inexperience. It deeply saddened me to know that there was a probability that I'd be seeing every day for the next year.
"Why the hell did your parents only move out here two weeks ago? Didn't they realise it'd take them more than two weeks to familiarise themselves with Miami again?" I'd asked as my one attempt at keeping up conversation.
"Well, since the last time I lived here I was seven, I've lost contact with all of my old friends. I turned eighteen less than a month ago, and my parents thought it better that we delay our relocation to Miami so I could enjoy my eighteenth with my friends rather than all alone in a new city."
"Well, aren't you a selfish piece of shit?"
"Hey, it was their decision, not mine, Allyson. Besides, after everything I've done for them, it was really the least they could do."
I had scoffed. "Really, what have you done for your parents, dipshit? I'm betting nothing."
"Uh, how about dropping everything—my friends, girls and popularity—to move across the country? That's gotta count for something."
"God, you're a dick." I had turned up my nose in disdain. With every word the dipshit had spoken, I was only becoming more certain that the judgement I had made that morning was an accurate one.
The dipshit laughed. "You intrigue me, Allyson."
"Oh really? And why's that?" I questioned, my voice patronising.
"I don't know…" he pondered his train of thought. "You just…do."
"Jesus," was the last thing I had muttered before stuffing my headphones back in my ears, letting Christina Perri's voice calm my pissed self.
For the rest of the journey to school, I had walked at a pace that made my calves ache as a futile attempt to distance myself from the dipshit, however failed miserably due to his conveniently long legs and the fact that he'd barely worked up a sweat. I, on the other hand, was dripping from head to toe, and was about to stop at a public toilet to clean myself up before I remembered that I honestly didn't give a shit.
Just as expected, the blonde dipshit caused quite a scene as soon as he made an appearance at Marino. During the short amount of uninterrupted time I had alone with my thoughts whilst I was walking, it became apparent to me the affect his arrival was going to have on the student body, and more importantly, the year level.
Marino High School's Class of 2014 had stayed pretty much the same since freshman year. Since then, however, the dynamics of our year level didn't seem to change. Sluts were always sluts, nerds were always nerds, wallflowers were always wallflowers and of course, popular people were—and forever will be—popular. If anyone left or entered the cohort they were always irrelevant, they didn't matter in the big scheme of things. But suddenly, I feared that the blonde boy standing next to me could change all of that.
Granted, I knew he wasn't very smart—he couldn't even use a damned train pass—but a pit in my stomach was telling me that wouldn't matter. Just the fact that he was new in our final year of school would spark interest and attention. Add the fact that he was tall, blonde and what most girls would consider 'boyfriend material' I was certain he'd shake up Marino. That was why I wanted to keep away from him.
Entering the gates closest to the senior lockers, people began to notice us, or rather, notice the dipshit. It occurred to me that he stuck out like a blonde thumb. We weren't even speaking to one another, and I was at least five footsteps ahead of him, but students I'd never had anything to do with were now paying attention to me. Girls were whispering, boys shoving each other in our direction. It didn't take long for news to get around, it never did at Marino, and just as I was about to finally open my mouth and direct the idiot—who'd been flirting with girls since we'd stepped onto school property—to student reception, Saffron Cairns conveniently appeared.
Saffron Cairns was the typical popular girl in high school: attractive, skinny and unbelievably stupid. She had long, golden waves and bright green eyes, but it was hard to get past the layers of makeup and false eyelashes she donned each day. Honestly, I couldn't fathom how anyone could be bothered to go to that extreme every morning. Saffron and I had never gotten along—our relationship was something of mutual dislike. So, when she arrived on front of me—or rather, us—I had no doubt what her intentions were.
"Ally," she drooled, addressing me but looking only in the blonde's eyes, "Would you care to introduce me to your new friend?"
Saffron battered her eyelashes in such a way I wanted to puke at the sight. I almost laughed at the look on dipshit's face as she edged closer and closer towards him. She glanced at me expectantly, and it took a fair portion of willpower for me not to stamp hard on her pedicured toes.
"Yeah, whatever, Saffron," I spoke, pushing behind the blonde idiot in an attempt to open my locker. Not even so much as glancing between the pair of them, I muttered, "This is Austin Moon. He just moved here or something."
Even as I was piling book after book into my locker, I could feel, if not see out of the corner of my eye, him smirking at my use of his name. I glared, mumbling a colourful array of insults and nasty comments, throwing every textbook against the painted wood with far more force than necessary. Saffron looked pleased, now almost pinning him against the locker. She continued giggling flirtatiously.
"Austin. What a hot name."
I snorted, badly covering it with a cough, the resounding thud of my backpack hitting the floor of the locker interrupting whatever comment Saffron was going to throw at the dipshit next.
Pursing her lips, the bimbo only bothered to waste so much time as to hurl a look of daggers my way, which I happily returned with a look in the opposite direction, muttering "slut" under my breath. Pulling her long locks over her left shoulder, Saffron flashed the blonde a sickly sweet smile, grinning from ear to ear.
"Well, I'll see you around, Austin. I'm always free if you need anything." Her voice sounding like oozing honey, she whirled back around, sending the seemingly mute dipshit one final wink. Shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts, he too exhaled deeply, studying the hallway before deciding on walking in the left direction.
I sucked in a breath, glad that both people had left me alone. Taking a gulp of water from the bottle I had bought at the convenience store that morning, I slumped against the locker, already tired of all this year would behold, before it had even really begun. I knew that thinking about it would do me no favours, so instead I focussed on breathing deeply, fastening the water bottle back inside my backpack and pulling out my books for the morning.
A heavy lump in my throat formed as I reminisced recent events, and to an outsider it probably looked like I was just staring aimlessly into a pile of books and stationery. However, in reality, I didn't know whether to burst into laughter or shudder in horror at the memory of the dipshit and Saffron's conversation, although one couldn't really call it a conversation, since Saffron was the only one who actually spoke.
Tiredly slamming my locker door shut, I sighed, mentally preparing myself for the possible repercussions that could evolve from my following actions. Walking slowly into the middle of the busy hallway filled with a blur of students, I only had to raise my head to notice that the blonde idiot was still within a short distance.
"Oi, dipshit!" I yelled, being pushed from side to side. Slowly, his head turned, looking at me with a mixture of confusion and expectancy.
Grumbling, I manoeuvred my way down the lengthy corridor, the whole time wondering what had possessed me to do what I was about to do next.
I was met, nonetheless, with a smirk. "I figured it'd be you Allyson, you're the only person to address me as dipshit."
"It's a fitting name."
For a split second, I was sure I saw the bases of a scowl sketched across the dipshit's face, but then again, it was just as probable the dangerous movement that resulted from being pushed around was muddling his expression.
"So, what did you want, Allyson? Already can't bear to be parted from me?" I tightened my jaw, imagining how much I was going to regret the words I planned to speak.
"Look, you're a jerk and we clearly do not get on at all, but I feel as though it's my responsibility as a coexisting human to tell you this. Whether you take it on board or not, I honestly can't be fucked." His forehead creased slightly in mild confusion. "I'm talking about Saffron. That girl who was flirting with you before." Even if it was only by a minimal amount, it was undeniable that the dipshit's eyebrows raised. "I don't know why I'm telling you this, but don't get involved with her. As much as I'd love to see you get fucked over, just don't, dipshit."
I expected him to snort, or smirk condescendingly, at least. Instead, without missing a beat, he looked me straight in the eyes.
"Like you'd know."
And that was far worse than anything I'd imagined.
hello again! thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who reviewed, followed and favourited the first chapter. i wasn't expecting that kind of response and you all made my day.
i hope you like this chapter, which is the first. i'll aim to update next sunday.
please let me know if this is okay.
love to you all. xx