One thing Ally definitely forgot in the months she spent without talking to Austin: he is a secret cuddler. He hasn't really spoken directly to her since that first night of the trip, but all three mornings so far she's woken up wrapped in his arms like a human-sized teddy bear. Which actually makes sense, considering he seems to have left his actual teddy bear at home for this trip. But as nice as it is being his little spoon, it really isn't helping her feel any better about their fight and it certainly isn't making getting over her feelings for him any easier.

Still, pretending to be asleep until he wakes up and inevitably releases her never hurt anybody. So she just closes her eyes again and tries to enjoy every moment she can while also trying not to think about how they're still in the biggest fight of their lives.

After a few minutes, she hears him inhale sharply and feels his whole body tense up. She tries not to be disappointed as she waits for him to slowly let go of her and move back to his side of the bed, but that moment doesn't come. He rests a hand on her waist and sits up a little, and she can feel him looking at her. She tries to keep her breathing even and doesn't dare open her eyes, but she can imagine the confused look on his face as he wonders how they've ended up like this three mornings in a row.

But instead of letting go of her now, he just wraps his arm around her again and lays back down, burying his nose in her hair. She swallows, feeling him trying to even out his breathing. This has to mean something. In the moment Austin decided to pretend to be asleep instead of letting go of her, their position transitioned from accidental and instinctive to deliberate and conscious.

"I know you're awake," he mumbles into her hair after a while, stretching his legs out. She freezes. How did he figure her out? "You snore when you're actually asleep," he adds, as if reading her mind.

"Well, now I know you're awake too," she says quietly, not moving or opening her eyes.

"That was the point." He takes a deep breath and rests his hand on her waist for a second before rolling onto his back, his other arm still stuck under her.

He doesn't say anything else, so she sighs and sits up. She looks down at him, and he watches her with unreadable eyes.

"I'm lost, Austin," she says. "I don't know what you want from me."

"I don't want anything from you," he tells her.

"Well, you're talking to me again. That's something."

"I guess."

"You kept cuddling me when you woke up. That was a choice you made."

He presses his lips together and sits up, staring at his hands fiddling in his lap. "You didn't pull away from me either."

"I'm not the one who's mad."

"I'm not—" Austin cuts himself off and sighs in frustration. "Whatever."

Then, without a word, he grabs his swimsuit and heads into the bathroom, shutting the door hard enough to make Ally flinch.

He doesn't talk to her for the rest of the day, but their parents don't seem to pick up on the fact that they're completely avoiding each other. In the past couple days, they've been interacting more for their parents' sake, but Austin seems to completely give up on that today. First, he's surfing while she eats breakfast with everyone else. Then when she's reading on the beach, he decides to go inside the house and eat something. When he comes outside to tan, just the look in his eyes is enough to give her the sudden urge to go surfing—or do anything else to put more distance between them.

They continue like this the next day, too. But somehow, she still wakes up in his arms in the morning. Except now she's the one to move out of his grip; she can't let her mind wander off to a world where everything is fine when she knows she'll just come crashing back down to reality as soon as Austin wakes up. But she doesn't miss the way his arms keep reaching out to her for a split second after she moves away before Austin seems to regain conscious control of his body.

It isn't until Thursday, when it rains, that they really even look at each other aside from those few stolen moments each morning. But the rain means everyone is stuck inside the house all day, watching movies, playing board games, napping, reading, talking.

Ally paces in their room after breakfast, already antsy. It's gonna be a long day. She's itching for sunlight, sand between her toes, the chill of the ocean as she paddles out on her surfboard—something, anything, that gets her out of this house. But the rain chases any hope of that from her mind.

Austin walks in as her hands start to fidget with themselves. She doesn't look at him, focused on whatever's in front of her as she walks the length of the room over and over again. She tries to will the rain away, but apparently she can't control the weather.

"Can you cut it out?" Austin snaps, the first words he's said to her in days.

"No."

She notes an exaggerated roll of Austin's eyes as he collapses on the bed. "Why are you so annoying?" he asks the ceiling, glaring daggers at it.

The ceiling doesn't answer him, but she does. "I was minding my own business until you walked in here. You're free to leave."

"Our parents are on a double date in the living room," he says, disgust in his voice. "It's all cuddling on the couch and kissing and romcoms, like teenagers."

"That's not my fault," Ally says.

"Whatever."

Finally, she stops pacing and looks at him, narrowing her eyes. "Why do you keep blaming me for all your problems?" she asks.

He keeps staring at the ceiling, his arms spread out on either side of him. "I don't."

"Yes, you do. You blame me for Kira dumping you. You blame me for other girls not wanting to go out with you. You blame me for every rumor that spreads about you. You blame me for being confused at all the mixed signals you keep giving me. And now you blame me for, what, our parents acting like teenagers on a double date?"

Austin stands up, faster than a strike of lightning, his face close to hers but with anger burning in his eyes. "It is your fault!" he exclaims. "You ruin everything for me!"

She clenches her jaw, glaring up at him. She would've rolled her eyes a year ago, and said he should take a break and come talk to her when he's ready to stop being so dramatic. Those words would've hurt a few months ago, because she would've actually believed them and felt genuinely sorry about it. But now, she can only react with narrowed eyes and clenched fists at her sides; now, she knows better. She knows he's not being dramatic, that he really does feel like she ruins everything for him, but she also knows that she's a good friend to him. Maybe not in the past few months, but these are extenuating circumstances. Eighteen years make up for a few off months.

"I'm sorry," she tells him, but there's no sincerity in her voice. She's apologized too many times now, for things she isn't really sure even warrant an apology.

"You don't mean it."

"Would it matter if I did?"

He rolls his eyes but doesn't seem to have an answer. "Screw you, Ally," is all he says. He starts walking out of the room, but she stands her ground, watching him, seeing red.

"Screw you, Austin," she spits back. "Kira didn't dump you because of me. She dumped you because you're a dick."

He spins on his heel and marches back over to her, his fists clenched at his sides now. He leans in so close their noses almost touch. "You wish you were her," Austin seethes.

Ally scoffs and shoves him in the chest, backing him up a few steps. He's still sizing her up, as if he's expecting this to actually turn into a physical brawl. "You wish I was her," she fires back.

"That doesn't even make sense, dumbass!"

Ally narrows her eyes again, feeling puzzle pieces click into place in her mind. "No, it makes perfect sense," she says. She steps closer to him, feeling the higher ground starting to form beneath her feet. "That's why you keep saying I ruin everything for you. That's why you blame me for all of this, especially your failed relationships." She pokes him in the chest, and he takes a step back. His eyes are still angry, but there's something else in there too, almost nervous. "Because I'm the reason for your failed relationships, but really it's your fault." She pokes his chest again and takes another step closer. He backs into the wall, cornered, glaring down at her angrily as he tries to maintain a cold exterior but a fire rages within. She looks up at him, every muscle in her body tense, only feeling anger now that she's realizing what he's done, how he's twisted his mind to convince himself that she's at fault for problems that are his and his alone.

"Your feelings for me are the problem," she says, "not the other way around. Girls don't reject you because they think we're dating, they reject you because they can tell that you wish we were. Kira didn't dump you because I was a threat to her, she dumped you because she realized that you were only dating her to distract yourself from your feelings for me.

"You think I'm ruining your life because you hate feelings, and your feelings for me are getting in your way a lot more than you'd like. They're stronger than you'll admit, even to yourself, and you're frustrated that for the first time, you don't have control over your emotions even in the slightest." She watches him, and though she knows he will never, ever admit it, she's struck home. He still keeps the cold, almost indifferent, façade, but his eyes are a little wider than normal, and she sees the anger and fear and, strangely, arousal, in his swirling irises and dilated pupils. "And you're scared," she realizes, "that someone else has such an impact on you."

"That's a load of horse shit and you know it," he mutters through gritted teeth. But she knows better. "You want all that to be true, but you need to get over yourself."

Finally, he shoves her away from him, and she stumbles backwards. Despite what he says, she knows what she sees in his eyes. She knows this boy better than anyone; she knows him better than she knows herself. And she knows her words are echoing in his mind right now, haunting him as he either realizes she's right or realizes he's been found out. Maybe both at once.

For the rest of the trip, Austin all but pretends she doesn't exist. She still wakes up in his arms in the morning, but as soon as he wakes up he pushes her away in frustration. He even shoves a pillow between them in an attempt to stop himself from pulling her into him in his sleep, but it doesn't do much to help. Ally tries not to feel satisfaction knowing she hit the nail on the head with her suspicions, but she feels it all the same.

When they get back to school, Austin continues acting like she doesn't exist, except now it's more public, more dramatic, more desperate on his part. He's trying to prove that he doesn't care about her, but the fact that he's even putting this much effort into proving her wrong just shows how right she is. It's almost funny, how well she can see through him, and how firmly he seems to believe he'll be able to convince her otherwise.

Whether he's hooking up with every willing girl he can find or outright refusing to even look at her in the hallway, he is putting way too much energy into trying to get her to believe his lie. Or maybe, she thinks, he's trying to convince himself.

That realization truly sets in when she finds herself on the couch at a Halloween party, at the same beach house the back-to-school party was at a few months ago. A familiar, albeit stumbling, figure plops down next to her, sandwiching her between his body and the arm of the couch. The smell of alcohol clings to him, and his bloodshot eyes are unfocused. Still, he drapes an arm over the back of the couch behind her and leans toward her, so close their noses almost touch.

"Ally," he mutters, searching her eyes. It's the first time he's talked to her since their argument over fall break. "I miss you."

She sighs and rests a gentle hand on his chest, pushing him away from her. "I know," she replies.

He scrunches his eyebrows and tilts his head, looking like a confused puppy. "You do?"

"Of course I do."

"Oh."

She watches him for a few moments as he leans back against the couch, staring down at his lap and trying to process her words in his intoxicated brain. But she knows he won't even remember this conversation in the morning.

"Can I take you home?" she asks him.

He looks over at her, taking a couple seconds to respond. But eventually, he nods slowly. So she stands up and walks outside to her car, knowing he'll follow. While she sits in the driver's seat and waits for Austin to meet her, she sends Trish and Piper a quick text explaining what's going on and apologizing. Barely a minute passes before Trish responds and says they're both just going to sleep here tonight.

Finally, Austin climbs into Ally's car. He buckles his seatbelt and stares straight ahead, his shoulders slumping.

As Ally starts driving, Austin speaks up. "You're right," he tells her. Even in his drunken state, the words seem hard for him to force out. "Everything you said before…you're right. But you know that."

She feels his eyes on her, feels the heat rise to her cheeks as he finally admits what she knew all along, but she focuses on the road in front of her. "Yeah, I do know," she says quietly.

"I am scared," he continues. "You're…real. And that's scary. Kira wasn't real. Other girls weren't real. But you are. I don't like it."

Ally doesn't speak for a while, trying to decipher his drunken words and figure out what he actually means. His feelings.

"Why don't you like it?" she asks, trying not to be hurt.

"I don't like real feelings, you know that. I hate not being in control. With you, I'm not in control." He leans his head against the window, and she presses her lips together in a tight line.

"So you decided that the only way to feel like you have control is to blame all your problems on me?"

"I'm not good at blaming things on myself," he admits. "But it's not your fault."

"You know how I feel about you," she says slowly. "So why are you pushing me away if you feel the same?"

He doesn't answer for a while. "Because I can't screw up if we never try in the first place. And if I don't keep pushing you away…" She glances over at him as he trails off, and sees him frowning. "I thought keeping you far away would hurt less than having you close but not close enough," he says.

"And?"

"It all hurts."

She pulls into his driveway and turns her car off, looking over at him. He turns his head to meet her gaze. His entire body sags under the weight of his mistakes, his exhaustion, and way too much alcohol.

Wordlessly, she gets out of the car and helps him inside his house. He pulls his shirt over his head as he follows her through the living room and upstairs to his bedroom. She turns on the light in his room and he squints, but he obeys her silent command to get in bed. She grabs his teddy bear out of its hiding place under his bed and tries to give it to him, but he shakes his head and pushes it back into her hands.

"You stay," he tells her, blinking slowly.

She knits her eyebrows together in confusion. "What?"

He moves over to make room for her on the bed. "Stay with me."

"Austin, you can't just change your mind on a whim and decide you're done being a jerk to me."

He frowns a little, and she knows she's going to give in. Still, she does her best to stand her ground. "Please?" he asks.

She purses her lips and sighs, kicking off her shoes and crawling in next to him before turning off the light. She watches him close his eyes in the darkness, feels him drape an arm over her and then relax his entire body when she scoots a little closer. You're an idiot, she thinks to herself. But so is he.

When she wakes up, she's pressed against his side, her head on his shoulder and her hand on his chest. He's on his back, one arm around her while his other hand rests on top of hers. She notices that his eyes are open, and he's staring at the ceiling, blinking every few seconds but clearly lost in thought.

"Morning," he says quietly, catching her off guard. But he doesn't move, and his tone is gentle, void of any anger or regret or bitterness or any other negative emotion she's used to hearing when he speaks to her.

She sighs, closing her eyes again, expecting the worst to come as soon as they start talking. "Morning," she whispers.

"Wanna fill me in?" His thumb traces light circles on her wrist, and it's too distracting. She wonders why he doesn't have a killer hangover and silently curses whatever that reason may be.

"You…said you missed me," she says, trying her best to focus on their conversation and not his hand on hers. "You said I was right about everything and begged me to stay."

"So you did." He doesn't deny any of it, or try to take it back. She swallows at his too-calm, too-gentle voice, and shivers at the thought of this silent confession. His grip around her tightens.

"Guess I wanted to see if you agreed when you were sober," she says, tilting her head up to look at him. He glances down at her before staring at the ceiling again, still trailing his thumb over the back of her hand.

"Ally…," he starts. He takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling slowly beneath her hand. Then he shakes his head, squeezing her hand. "You know me too well for your own good, you know that?"

"You know me too well, too."

He squeezes his eyes shut. "I can't…I can't be best friends with you, Ally."

Her heart drops and her face falls. She pulls her hand out of his and sits up, looking down at him in hurt surprise. "What?"

He sits up too, looking at her desperately, trying to make her understand what he seems to be failing to communicate. "Having you so close but not…" He links his fingers together to communicate the end of the idea, unable to find the right words. "It's killing me." Now that he's started, the words he can find come tumbling out. "I've been distracting myself with other girls, trying to push away you and the feelings, but…" He shrugs helplessly.

"So you blame me for that pain," she says slowly. They had this exact conversation last night. Somehow, he was better at it then.

"I thought maybe if I blamed you, it would help."

"Did it?"

He shakes his head. "I just miss you, Ally."

"But you can't be best friends with me."

He meets her eyes, and she wishes he would just say how he feels instead of talking in so many circles. If he would just swallow his pride, this would be so much easier.

"I can't lose you," he says quietly. "And…and if I push you away, if I control it, then I won't be losing you."

"It won't hurt any less."

He stares down at his lap. "I know how you feel about me, Ally. And I know…" He swallows. "I know how I feel about you. I know it's real. And it isn't like those other times we tried before. I'm not just desperate for a girlfriend or anything. I actually want this, and I want it to last. And I know it's possible…and it's killing me," he says again.

"So you respond by trying to hate me and not speaking to me for months instead of just telling me all this? You had to have known I would figure it out anyway."

"I didn't care if you knew. I didn't want to admit it to myself."

"And now that you have?"

He lifts his head to meet her eyes. "I'm…scared." And she can tell. His eyes are the size of saucers.

"Well, there's not much I can do about that," she says, getting up off his bed. He watches her. "And I'm not even sure if I've forgiven you yet for everything you've put me through these past six months just because you didn't want to admit your feelings." Yet. Because she knows she'll forgive him eventually. He's her best friend. "But still, I'd really like to have my best friend back, if you're done acting like a dick."

He smiles just slightly, barely even noticeable by anyone who doesn't know him as well as she does. "You're calling my bluff."

"I'm not gonna sit here and let you spit that 'I can't be best friends with you' bullshit. It's a cop-out. So when you're ready to deal with your feelings like a grownup instead of hiding, let me know." With that, she walks out of the room.

It takes him all of two days to decide enough is enough. When he walks over to her, Trish, and Piper at lunch on Monday, she can tell by the look in his eyes that this is important.

"What do you want?" Trish asks as he stands over them.

"It's okay, Trish," Ally says, standing up and meeting Austin's eyes. His stare is almost suffocating.

She feels Trish and Piper watching them as they walk across the courtyard for a little privacy. But she doesn't really care.

"I can't be in control of everything," he says when they stop walking. He looks in her eyes again. "I know that. I don't like it, but I know it. And you're my best friend. I trust you more than anyone to be in control of things I can't be. Like my feelings." He swallows, and she watches him. Go on. "And that's really what being with someone and loving someone is all about, right? Trusting them with your heart or whatever. Giving them control. Willingly." He takes a deep breath. "Ally, I'm giving you control."

She smiles a little. It's not the most romantic speech in the world, but it's very him. And the nervous look in his eyes is cute; the best friend she knows and loves is returning to her before her eyes.

"Even if you just wanna stay best friends. Because that's what friendship is about too," he says quickly, stumbling over his words a little. Then he cringes, looking at her sheepishly. "How am I doing?"

She laughs a little and gives him an encouraging nod. "I'm proud of you," she tells him. "Thank you."

He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. "I miss you, Ally," he tells her, meeting her eyes seriously. "And I'm sorry for everything."

She feels herself relax for the first time in six months. "I miss you, too. And I forgive you."

He chews on his lower lip, and she raises her eyebrows at him. She's gonna make him say it whether he likes it or now.

"You're gonna make this as hard for me as possible, aren't you?" he asks knowingly.

"I wouldn't be your best friend if I didn't," she replies with a nod.

He exhales. "Fair enough." Then he squares his shoulders. "Ally…can we try this? Us?"

She smiles a little, letting herself enjoy this. "I'm not sure what you mean."

He rolls his eyes, but he can't keep a tiny smile off his face. "Will you. Go out. With me," he says slowly, looking in her eyes, trying to show her he isn't freaking out on the inside.

She responds by kissing him. He seems to take that as a yes.

sorry if this was disappointing i don't love it but oh well