Chapter 3: Look At The Boys In Leather
Disclaimer: I still don't own the show smart ones. I also don't own the TV show I mention there, Boy Meets World, which is really good and you should watch it. The episode they watch is called Dangerous Secret and this fic was partially based on it, so yup.
So here's chapter tres. Everyone loves chapter 3.
/Ally/
"Mr. Dawson? Is Ally around?" I woke up when the doorbell rang at 8 this morning and heard Austin's voice float through my house. What was he doing here?
"She's asleep," My dad replies gruffly, not masking the contempt he has for Austin. "Come back later."
"But-" Austin starts, but I bet he thinks better of himself and instead shuts up. "Well do you know when she'll be awake?"
"Listen kid," My dad starts, and I can hear the impatience in his voice. "Ally is my daughter which means I know what's best for her. And what's best for her is not you, okay? You're just a boy, a stupid boy who distracts her from her work." I gasp and cover my mouth, though they can't hear me from up here. I just know Austin won't take this well.
"No offense, sir, but I think you're wrong," He says, and I cringe. Wrong thing to say! Not smart, not smart. "Because Ally is the best friend I've ever had, and you should know I treat her very well."
I can imagine them leaning against the door jams and staring each other down. With the tough tone of his voice, maybe Austin's wearing that leather jacket he likes so much. My dad would still be in his pajamas, coffee mug in hand. Or maybe at this rate, a beer.
"Very well. Likely story," My dad snorts, and I know neither of them is going to back down now.
"I do. Better than most in fact." Austin's voice doesn't have a hint of worry; all it is is confidence and a little annoyance.
"You're not good for her," my dad rebuts. "She's always out late when she's with you, and I don't like that." I hear some shuffling and think maybe he brought Austin inside, but think again. That's too friendly for my dad.
"I know you get angry with her," Austin says, voice unwavering. "I heard the shouting a few days ago."
There's a tense silence, and you could cut the tension with a knife. After a pause my dad speaks, and I know he's pissed beyond belief. What has Austin done?
"You heard shouting."
"Yes sir I did. And I don't really know what's going on, but I'm just warning you. You'd better not dream of doing anything to that girl, you understand me?"
Austin's 6 feet would be towering over dad's 5'7" right about now, and both faces would be angry but calm, due to the fact that there was no shouting yet.
"You accusing me of hurting my daughter, kid?" My dad asks, and I can tell he's doing a lot to keep his anger in check. I hear someone take a step or two forward, and I assume its Austin.
"Wouldn't dream of it sir," he says evenly. "Just telling you it better not happen-ever. Or we will have some problems. That's all."
"You're threatening me," My dad replies. "Little kids like you shouldn't threaten adults."
"Lucky for me," Austin says, and I can tell he's on his way out. "I stopped being a kid a long time ago."
The door slams shut and I heave a sigh of relief. So Austin didn't die; that's a plus. So he angered my dad and probably ended our whole friendship on the spot; minus.
"Allison, get up!" My dad's footsteps pound on the stairs and I hide back under the covers, pretending not to be awake.
"Allison."
Hiding hiding hiding.
"Get your lazy ass up."
I'm ignoring you.
"GET UP!"
I burrow deeper into my bed and try not to shake.
"Get your lazy, ungrateful ass up this minute or you'll wish you'd never been born," My dad says from the doorway and I slowly roll over.
"I'm up, I'm up," I mutter.
"Now," He grunts and I shoot up.
"Hi daddy," I say sweetly. "How are you? Good morning." I figure the nicer I am, the less trouble I'm in.
"Don't you good morning me. You know who was over here this morning? Do you?" He shakes my shoulders and I shrink back.
"Um...Mrs. Matthews from next door?" I try, knowing he'll tell me anyway.
"No. Your little idiot friend Dustin or whatever the hell his name is." He glares in my eyes and continues. "And do you know what he came over here for? Do you?"
"No," I lie, whispering. "I don't."
"He was here to threaten me because he thinks I'm hitting you. Where would he get an idea like that, huh?" He shouts. "Where would he get that idea?"
I'm backed against the wall now and I try hard not to shake. "I didn't tell him anything, I promise! I promise, please don't hurt me!"
A slap to my face is my only answer. "You liittle slut, you told him!" He slaps me again, and my cheek starts to sting.
"No, no I didn't!" I cry, cradling my cheek. "I promise I never told him a thing, I told you!" He shakes my shoulders, expecting me to answer, but all it does is bang my head against the wall.
"Well you lied; you lied and you're gonna pay for that." He kicks my shins and I gasp at how much it hurts.
"Dad-" Shove, slap, kick.
"He thinks something's going on here, and the only person who could have told him was you, you little slut!" Punch to my arm, hard slaps to the face.
"Daddy, I'm not a s-" I'm interrupted by a shove to the ground and I hit my head on the desk on the way down.
"Stop acting innocent!" He shoves me hard against the wall behind me and I flinch.
"But Dad!" He throws another punch, this one to my cheek, and I come close to crying.
Never cry, never cry. My mantra's not working...
"Crying! Feel guilty cuz you tattled to your little bum of a friend?" He pulls me back up by my wrists and glares at me.
"D-dad," I sniffle, my whole body sore, and this isn't even the worst I've ever had.
He throws me to the ground again and I take a (considerably) light kick to my stomach.
"N-no, Dad, p-please-"
"You're not seeing him anymore, never again. You're staying here and you're going to work, that's it. Do you understand me?" Slap. Shove.
"Dad-" He shoves the books off my desk and papers go flying; my glass paperweight shatters. Slap. Hard.
My dad glances to the mess he made and then to me, crumpled on the floor, and sneers his face in disgust. "Clean that up."
He leaves and I try not to cry as I gather the mess up from my floor.
Ring ring ring ring.
Ring ring ring ring.
Ring ring ring ring.
...
Austin, would you stop calling? I can't answer you...
Ring ring ring ring.
I sniffle and ignore his latest call as I reorganize my books for this year and vaccuum up the glass shards. "I can't talk to you right now, would you stop calling?"
Ring ring ring ring ring ring.
"Ally. Make dinner, I'm getting hungry."
"F-fine Dad, I'll b-be right down." I spent all day up in my room, alternating between cleaning, ignoring my dad, and dodging Austin's calls.
"Now! I'm going out with the guys at 8, so I'd like to have eaten, oh, a half hour ago." Sarcasm, he's in a slightly better mood.
"Coming," I call and run down the stairs. "You want chicken?"
"Chicken's fine, just make it now." I peek into the living room, and surprise surprise, he's on the couch with a beer. Judging by the amount of cans next to the couch, it's his seventh today.
I have dinner ready in ten minutes; oh the magic of the microwave and reheating leftovers.
"Here you go Daddy," I put his plate on the table in front of him. "Hope you like it."
I plate up my own dinner and take it silently to my room. No surprise, there's two more missed calls from Austin.
"Hey Ally, I came over today and talked to your dad...I think he's pretty pissed at me, he said not to see you anymore...would you just answer my call and we can talk?"
"Hey Ally, so it's me again...just call me back please?"
"Ally, are you okay? Are you okay with your dad? I may have said some things to your dad he may not have exactly agreed with...I'm, uh, just call me back please?"
I sigh and decide to call him up, shaking the entire time I dial.
"Ally!" He answers on the first ring and I sigh in relief. "Ally! Why haven't you called me back?"
"Austin," I say quietly. "I'm sorry, I've been busy." I quietly cut up some of my chicken and lean back into my chair.
"Ally, you had me worried!" I roll my eyes and push my peas around the plate.
"Austin, I'm fi-"
"Don't say you're fine. Something's going on, and I want to know what it is!" His voice reverberates through the phone and I pull it away from my ear. "Ally, you know what your dad and I talked about?"
Yes.
"No?"
"You want me to tell you?" No.
"Austin-"
"I told him not to hurt you," He says quickly. "That I heard shouting when I brought you home late. And that I didn't like it."
"Austin, he was just angry, that's all," I say through my teeth. "Nothing to worry about."
"You saying 'Dad, stop!' isn't what I'd consider 'nothing to worry about.'" He heard that?
"He was, um, tickling me?" I say unsurely, and mentally smack myself. Tickling? That's the best thing I could think of?
"Tickling you." Austin snorts and I find myself nodding along, even though he can't see me. "Huh. For some reason I find that a little hard to believe."
"It's, uh, it's the truth," I reply. "Yep."
"It's not the truth is it?" Austin asks, not unkindly. "Think you wanna tell me truth now?"
"That...is...the... truth," I say tightly. "I've gotta go." I quickly hang up before he can respond and flop back onto my bed. "Ugh."
A car honks outside and I hear my dad collect his stuff. "I'm leaving," My dad yells up to me. "Imma...imma go out with the guys!" He slurs his words and I can tell he's completely intoxicated already. "You betta...still be...be here when I...when I get... back. I don't...know when that's gonna be..."
I know better than to respond and instead wait until his friend's car is out of the driveway before I head- very slowly, due to the pain- downstairs. Just as I suspected, it's a mess, beer cans and my dad's stuff everywhere. I move to the living room to pick up the cans but bump into the endtable. "OW! Shit!" The corner dug right into one of my many bruises and I fall to the ground. "Shit, that hurt." I rub my arm and tears come to my eyes for the tenth time today.
I scoot back against the couch and take a deep breath. It hurts to move, getting down the stairs was enough of a hassle. "Might as well just stay here forever," I mutter to myself, and flick on the TV while I wait for energy to come to me. Boy Meets World is on and I settle on that. It's an old 90s show but it's still good, and better than lots of stuff on television nowadays anyway.
It's boy meets world, boy meets world, wandering down this road that we call life...
I hear my phone ringing upstairs but I have no desire to get up to answer it. If they want to talk to me, they can leave a voicemail. Right now the only people I'm paying attention to are named Cory and Shawn and they live in my television.
/Austin/
"What you watching sweetheart?" My mom plops down on the couch next to me with a bowl of popcorn and I take a handful. "Is this Boy Meets World?"
"Yup," I say through the popcorn. "It was the only thing on and I felt like watching it."
"You've been watching lots of 90s TV lately dear, is there a reason why?" She laughs and cuddles me closer to her.
"Because we don't get that many channels?" I ask and she nods.
"I used to love the guys on this show," She laughs. "Used to watch this every day when I was pregnant with you, you know that? Which one is this anyway?"
I check the guide and read the title. "Um... Dangerous Secret?" I see the connection click in my mom's brain and she nods.
"Oh this was a good one. If I remember correctly, this is the one with the girl who gets abused. Back when TV shows dealt with real problems instead of stuff like Jersey Shore and those awful Kardashians. I always liked this episode, Shawn's so sweet, protecting Claire because he knows her dad hits her; such a good boy. Why aren't there many good boys anymore? Except you baby, you're a good boy." She smooths my hair and kisses my forehead.
"Wait, what did you say this episode was about again Mom?" I perk up as the theme song ends, and she points to the screen.
"Just watch it," She laughs, and we settle in to watch TV together.
"I'm gonna go to bed, alright?" My mom yawns once it's over. "Uncle Richie's asleep, you're here, and I'm ready to sleep for days." She kisses me good-night and leaves me to fold out the couch into my bed.
"Night Mom," I call and settle back onto the couch. I'm too lazy to fold it out anyway; I just lay down and stare at the ceiling, thinking.
I had a gnawing feeling Mr. Dawson hit Ally. It was getting pretty obvious, but at the same time I wasn't sure. After all, there's no such thing as a sure thing. Why wouldn't she just admit it to me and save us both the trouble? I couldn't get it out of her, but she had to be aware that I know. She had to.
I can't believe I went there today; that was stupid of me. I just wanted to prove a point but all I did was look like an idiot.
It felt good though.
A/N: I bash Jersey Shore and Kardashians here via Mimi. Sorry if you like them, it was just to prove my point:)
