So glad you guys like the length because everyone's kind of a hot mess and my brain doesn't seem to be making the chapters any shorter. For Rainbow who asked if I am a psychologist: Sorry but not even a little bit lol. The whole 'irony' and 'guarding herself with questions' thing was just a concept I thought up and figured might be interesting and also be an accurate response to what Ally's been through. I am oddly very flattered that you'd even ask though so thanks!
Also, to the guest who asked if Ally being innocent meant she was a virgin: Now, I wasn't going to include this in the story because I didn't think it was particularly relevant but since you asked I'll tell you that Ally is not a virgin in this story. Sorry to disappoint. But instead of just leaving it at that, I immediately got an idea for a little mini background story and I couldn't resist so here it is!
She met a boy named Elliot at Smarty Arty: Arts & Crafts Sleepaway Camp in Rochester, New York when she was just 11 and he was 12. The day he smiled at her for the first time, she'd grabbed a large section of her long brown hair and began to compulsively chew on it, something she'd NEVER done before, until it tangled in her braces and she ran to her bunk and cried from the absolute humiliation. That summer was full of embarrassment and shy peeks across the cabins. 4 years later, after they'd long ago lost touch, Elliot moved from his home in Buffalo to her hometown Albany. And it wasn't until she saw him in the hallway of Martin Van Buren High School, looking all 16 and handsome, that her heart gently exploded and she gnawed viciously at her brunette curls, a habit she thought she'd conquered when she was 13. And Ally realized that there'd been love too in those 3 months of hot glue and basket weaving; young and unrealized, but love just the same. They dated for a year and 2 months before having sex for the first time after the junior prom. It was clumsy and awkward and Ally's zipper got stuck for 5 mortifying minutes but it was also beautiful and painful in the best way. It wasn't until 6 months later that they began to drift apart. Eventually their relationship's only support became memories of camp and the thousands of nervous metal-mouthed smiles they'd shared that magical summer. They broke up in the middle of senior year but the split was both mutual and amicable. Elliot and Ally remained friends even after graduation. He ended up across the country at UCLA, she happily enrolled at MUNY and they kept in touch for 2 years, right up until she dropped out and cut all ties with everybody.
On to the story!
"No 'who cares?', no vacant stares, no time for me"
He was still sniffling by the time they arrived at the church, so his grandmother gave him a few tissues and a sympathetic look. But instead of leaning in and whispering 'I'm not crying Gram, I actually just snorted some cocaine this morning and now my nose is bleeding a little bit', Austin just faked his saddest smile and took the wad of tissues.
Pallbearers had already unloaded Mike's casket from the hearse and carried it inside the church. Now the immediate family sat in a limo waiting for their cue to head in. Austin, with drugs already lowering his inhibitions, surveyed the spacious interior and tried not to make a smartass comment. Of the 5 total occupants present, his paternal grandparents were the quietest. For this Austin was extremely grateful because they were 2 critical old bats who were just as disappointed in him as his parents had been. If the sheets of tissue his grandma handed him were a sort of weird peace offering, Austin wasn't sure if blowing snot into them would be considered a grateful acceptance or a disrespectful rejection. Either way, he gently blew his nose then quickly folded and stuffed the tissue in his pocket before anyone could notice the bright red bleeding through. It was unlikely they would anyway. His aunt Diane was too busy trying to fill the somber silence with pointless, uninteresting information about the funeral she'd planned. "We originally wanted orchids but they're so expensive this time of year we ended up just ordering the lilies but I think they might look even better than the orchids would have." And Mimi, not wanting Di to feel ignored, was the only one responding. "Mike did like lilies. I'm sure he wouldn't mind." Austin was rolling his eyes before he could catch himself. Like his dad would've cared what kind of flowers they had at his funeral. He was surprised his father's will didn't request that he be cremated then scattered on the roof of Moon's Mattress Kingdom since he worshipped the fucking place so much.
He looked out of the window, wondering what the hold up was. Granted, the only funeral he'd ever been to was Didi's, but Austin didn't remember Dez and his family taking very long to exit the limo. There were more people filing into Saint Gabriel's than the blonde had expected though, even more so than the wake. Maybe the little church was having trouble accommodating everyone. He watched as another handful of mourners ascended the stone steps and crossed the open threshold. And it wasn't until Diane was discussing the reception and praising the catering company's professionalism that Austin spotted who he was subconsciously searching for.
It was all because of the red yet again, this time in the form of perfectly applied lipstick. That was really all of Ally's front that he could appreciate before she was turning her back to the limo and walking up the church steps with her parents on either side. His eyes immediately trailed down to her ass, the supple curves of which were much more apparent in high-waisted black trousers than yesterday's loose-fitting dress. She was also wearing a wide-brimmed black felt sunhat which he made a mental note to look for once he got inside.
Austin spent a good chunk of his night wondering how in the hell he was going to approach her after that little Ally-cat meltdown. He doubted she'd be up for a walk but he was determined to turn yesterday's "maybe" into today's "yes".
"Everyone ready?" Suddenly one of the ushers was opening the limo door and poking his head inside with a friendly expression. "We're going to have you 5 head in now.
"Why the fuck are you smiling at us?"
Austin was high.
"Austin!" Mimi cried out, utterly mortified, before giving the flustered man a soft smile, "I'm so sorry about that. He's grieving."
The blonde snickered, mumbling "All fragile and shit" to himself in amusement.
"Uh that's all right I understand. Um they're ready for you all now."
He was the last to climb out of the limo. It was uncharacteristically chilly and grey that morning. Austin had checked the weather after his shower and saw that the chance of rain spiked from 20% to 70% around 11am. He'd snorted an extra line in preparation for both his annoying grandparents and also for the potential abundance of umbrellas. He'd lessened his crippling phobia significantly but sometimes, if umbrellas made unexpected appearances or were present in too great a quantity, it made him anxious. Plus he'd seriously regretted not partaking in a little nose candy before the wake yesterday and what was a funeral but a bigger, longer, suckier wake? He'd already seen a majority of the guests carrying umbrellas in and crying and he was already wishing he wasn't there. But he knew he couldn't miss the funeral if he wanted to. It was like he'd told Dez on the phone, Austin didn't know why but he could not miss his asshole father's funeral. He unbuttoned his suit jacket so he could comfortably stuff his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. It was all very ominous. Not just the cinder block grey up above or the oddly low temperature, but the sad attendees not yet in the church but gathered around the entrance and waiting for Mike's closest relatives to pass by. They all stood silent and still, clad in black, watching his little party of 5 with the kind of sorrow that hung in the air despite its great weight. The poor Moon's, losing Mike so suddenly. The son, Austin, must be feeling really guilty I heard he and Mike stopped speaking years ago.
"Fuck you." He murmured to what he assumed everyone must be thinking.
His black Converse scraped across the threshold, soles brushing the church's red carpeting. Red. He searched for Ally. He'd been wrong in thinking Saint Gabriel's would be full to capacity. There were really only slightly more people than there'd been at the wake and only about half of the total space was occupied. It was to his left in the row second from the very back that he found a floppy hat and red lips. She was sitting between her dad and the far end of the pew. Despite the overcast sky outside, there was still enough light filtering through the stained glass window to dust her left cheek baby blue. Their eyes only met for a brief moment but she gave him a small, crooked smile. He returned it, probably a little more enthusiastically than was currently appropriate, before facing the back of his grandpa's head again. Austin wondered if the smile she'd offered him just then was a people pleasing one, only appearing because it was his father's funeral and she felt bad for him. As thoroughly pissed as she'd been last night, he doubted Ally would forgive him so quickly.
The sound of his grandmother sobbing wrenched him from his thoughts. And all at once Austin grew agitated and nervous because the coke kept him calm, except when it didn't. And it wasn't even about the fucking umbrellas anymore. No, his dad was dead, DEAD, and they'd stuffed him in a box and now he was on display and Mimi, the wife, was crying quietly over his still body. A cool sweat beaded rapidly along his hairline. His grandma's rough sobs were ringing in his ears. Was it just him or was she louder than a car horn? His mom moved to the right, taking her seat in the very front pew. Diane stepped up and immediately adjusted something on Mike's suit before staring down at him silently. Then she moved on and Austin's heart was either beating too slowly or too quickly, he couldn't be sure which. He tried to glance back at Ally but now there were people in line behind him and obscuring the view. His grandparents approached together, his grandma gripping the casket, his grandpa gripping her shaking shoulders because people really weren't supposed to outlive their children. Parents weren't supposed to survive their kids and sons weren't supposed to be fatherless at 23 years old. Austin's hand shot out of his pocket and tore through his blonde hair once, twice, three times in almost compulsive movements. Gerald and Tess Moon finally shuffled off to sit with their first born, Diane, and Mike's only child was up to bat. He approached a little quicker than intended, the blow making him slightly jittery. Maybe because he'd taken more than usual. He sniffled, but not from a mild nosebleed.
"Christ dad." He whispered to the waxy figure lying there.
The mattress king was wearing the same suit he'd worn to the wake, something he never would've done if he were alive. It was a soft grey and very well fit. His suits were always well fit. If he could see Austin now, in a borrowed outfit that was just slightly too big, an improperly tied tie, and scuffed sneakers, he'd probably disown him all over again. Mike's tie was perfectly straight, probably from Diane's quick adjustments. And of course it was blue; only royal blue for royalty after all. He was still so pale and so artificial looking. Austin let his brown eyes drift to the unmoving hands folded across his father's belly. His wedding band was still there and so was his class ring from Florida State University. And, if Austin squinted, he could still see a faint pink scar across his 2nd and 3rd knuckles. A decade ago Mike, fully enraged, backed a young blonde boy into a corner of the living room and threw a powerful punch at his head. The 13 year old had ducked, cringing when the mattress king's knuckles crashed through the wall. Frowning at the memory, Austin went and sat beside his mother. He'd dodged that blow but not many others that was for sure. And even after remembering that, there was still a sharp ache in his chest that not even his precious white lines could soothe.
"You know what excuse me." All of a sudden Austin was out of his seat again and gently pushing away an unfamiliar lady standing at the casket. He leaned in close, smelling the musky scent of his father's corpse and whispering close to his ear.
"You may have tricked all these dumb fucks here into thinking you're such a great guy but you'd better believe I know the truth. Hell, your fucking wife knows the truth because you did the same shit to her didn't you?" Austin hissed, fingers clutching the wooden box, "No, no you didn't hit her you just called her every name in the book didn't you? You disrespected her and fucked with her head and she just took it. You're a fucking asshole you know that?" someone's hands were wrapping around his upper arm and attempting to pull him away but he shook them off forcefully. "I want you to know that I will never forget what you did to me or to mom and I don't give a shit how many nice things all these idiots say about you here today. Do you hear me? Huh mattress king?" And now there were the tears from yesterday back with a vengeance and stinging his eyes. "I still hate you…You're dead and I STILL hate you. Fuck you. This preacher is about to stand up there and tell us all that you're going up to heaven but I know better. I know so much better than that." And here Austin leaned in even closer, spittle flying from his tight lips, "Fuck you Mike. I will ALWAYS know who you really are."
He grew quiet, as if waiting for dear old dad to respond, as if daring him to come back to life just long enough to hit him like he used to. But he didn't. And the hands were back, trying to pull him out of the casket and away from his decaying father. With another irritated yank, Austin broke the stranger's grasp and went calmly back to his seat between his mother and the end of the pew. People were staring. He swiped his suit sleeve roughly across his eyes and then his forehead.
"What were you saying to him?" Mimi whispered.
"Nothing he didn't already know." Austin sniffled again, unsure this time if it was blood or snot.
She leaned in closer and spoke even softer, "Are you high?"
Another drug-induced calm abruptly settled over him and he wiggled his eyebrows, attempting humor where he felt none, "Well Mimi…I'm not low."
"Oh dear God." His mother felt her already broken heart shattering.
Austin found himself staring at his father almost the entire time, completely tuning out the preacher and all others who chose to speak. Strangely enough, he was sort of waiting for Mike to breathe or sit up or…something. He was expecting his dead dad to suddenly hop up out of the casket and declare it all an extremely sick joke. The blonde really had no logical reason to think a thing like that would happen; he doubted his father could fake such absolute soullessness, and such an obvious absence of life. And plus Mike was a little too religious, and far too sane to think that faking his own death would be a good idea. Maybe Austin's brain was drifting nonsensically because it was weird to think he'd never speak to his dad again. Don't get him wrong, he hated Mike, like seriously FUCK that guy, but among the things his father had given him, black eyes and bruises and grief, life was also still one of them. And for that reason, his dad's unexpected death was too large a thing to fully accept.
Before he knew it, they were back in the limo. Silence. Even Diane was shutting the hell up. The service had been at least an hour and a half and Austin's high was coming down like a roller coaster, with peaks and valleys. The amount of coke still active in his system was inversely proportional to the degree of agony he experienced. So, as he drew closer to sobriety, the more vivid his pain became. He yanked on the sloppy knot of his tie until it loosened then undid the top 2 buttons of his white dress shirt. Beside him, his grandma scoffed in disapproval but he didn't give a shit. Sitting back with a sigh, Austin stared out of the window, suddenly very tired. People were flooding the parking lot and attempting to gain a clear understanding of where the cemetery was before climbing into their cars. After the casket was carried out and the immediate family ushered to the limo, Ally and her family had been some of the first guests to exit the church. Advantages of sitting in the back, he guessed. He watched the trio part ways in the lot, them walking hand in hand to the silver Honda and her striding gracefully to her red Beetle. He wondered, as Ally climbed inside, how she'd feel about a stroll through the tombstones.
"Austin." His mother sighed, dabbing at her eyes.
He turned to regard her across the spacious interior, "Hm?"
"Can we-…will you please just behave for the rest of the ceremony sweetheart?" she was practically pleading with him, her blue eyes glistening and her heart almost visibly crumbling. And, as much as he hated to admit it, a familiar tender aching awoke within him at the sight.
With a smirk and a silly little salute, he softly agreed, "Sure thing mom."
She didn't return the smile. His eyes went back to the parking lot, but the red VW was already gone.
Grandpa Gerald was a little chattier on the slow ride to Coral Gables Memorial Cemetery. He went on and on about how he'd have to talk to Mr. Cooper about being promoted to Mike's old position and about how fervent the preacher had been during his sermon and about how he hoped his grandson's disruptive little 'spectacle' was not to be repeated and blah blah blaaaah. If Austin hadn't been on the more tiring downward slope of his high, he might've had a few colorful words for gramps. But he just leaned into the soft black leather, scrolling lazily through Instagram and then Tumblr. He even got a comforting text from Dez.
Chin up, asshole. Call me later.
Austin smiled as they arrived at their destination.
Once again he allowed the rest of the limo's occupants out before him. The smell of rain was thick though none had fallen yet. He eyed the umbrellas still closed and clutched in mourners' hands and slowly, almost unconsciously, brought his fingers up to rub across his right shoulder. It was covered by a starched white shirt and a black suit jacket but he knew his celebratory tattoo was still there, would always be there, buried darkly within his skin. Austin took a deep breath, garnering strength from his ink, then followed behind his aunt.
The grave site was beautiful. Whether that was the work of Mother Nature or the extra dopamine pooled in Austin's brain, he couldn't be sure. But Mike Moon's casket had finally been closed for the last time and hovered like some kind of ethereal beacon over its deep grave. The coffin was made of Poplar trees, sporting a light brown glossy finish with this milk chocolate wood grain. The silver handles glimmered in even the most minimal sunlight and somehow lent a little glamour to a very somber occasion. There was also a certain strange yet interesting disparity between the coffin and the hole it dangled above, one being a bundle of natural materials treated and molded by human hands, and the other, also products of Mother Nature but simple and raw. The grass was an extremely vibrant green and the soil unbelievably black, creating this stark but gorgeous contrast that he didn't really think Mike's bloodless cadaver deserved. He looked up into the fully clouded sky, now a heavier, darker grey. And the people, gathered closely and dressed all in black, only added to the odd combination of beauty and morbidity.
He, Mimi, Diane, Gerald, and Tess all stood front and center. If Mike was putting on a concert instead of being buried, those 5 would've had the very best seats in the arena. And, even though the rest of the funeral guests were all huddled in tight around the grave, Austin was having trouble locating Ally. He'd just noticed that multiple women were also wearing hats. And it definitely didn't help that she was short as hell.
His mother was crying. He'd heard that sound enough times for his ears to be fine-tuned to it. Foregoing his search for Ally, Austin put his arm around Mimi's shoulders, hoping that would do something. She leaned into him. They listened to the priest speak again about heaven gaining another angel and it made Austin wonder if they said that at every funeral and, if so, did these religious figures truly believe it? The preacher that presided over Didi's burial had declared the young redhead an angel too, saying that God called her home and now heaven was even better than before. Austin could buy that. Didi was one of the sweetest girls he'd ever known, even when they first met and he was a rough and rude 17 year old runaway. But putting his dad in the same category as Dez's older sister? He couldn't accept that. If anything, his father was going to Hell and he hated that the priest was saying otherwise. He closed his brown eyes and tightened his grip on Mimi's shaking shoulder.
"Ashes to ashes….dust to dust." Father James' voice, papery and deep, was fitting for the despondent atmosphere. There was finality in his words and in his resounding baritone. And with that, Mike Moon's casket began its descent. Austin's eyes were still closed but he could hear the straps sliding as they lowered his father and he could smell the rich scent of earth as if it was closing in around him instead. He thought of his whispered rant back at the church, imagining the vicious words sealed in the coffin with his dad, cushioned by a satin lining and infiltrating Mike's deaf ears. For a brief moment of purely coke-driven panic, Austin wanted to rip the casket's lid off and release his hatred into the clouds, up amongst the thinnest altitudes possible. But that impulse passed. He opened his eyes. He stared at the black hole before him and raked a hand through his blonde hair excruciatingly slow. That was it. The funeral was over. His father, who'd really only ever taught him how to ride a bike and how to fish and how to take a punch, was below the ground and beyond the living; he was in a world of dirt and insects, fire and brimstone. His dad was dead and Austin still hated him and all the 23 year old wanted to do was scream and run until his legs gave out.
"My sincerest condolences to you all." Some old lady approached him and his mother, breaking Austin from his thoughts. The Moon's thanked her almost robotically.
The funeral was over. The funeral was over. It ran like a mantra through his mind. People were going to mingle a little, sharing stories about Mike and expressing their deepest regrets before heading back to Saint Gabriel's for the reception. He took his arm from Mimi and tore both hands through his hair. Austin wasn't sure what to do with himself.
And suddenly there were Ally's parents, standing there with their daughter just slightly behind them.
"We wanted all of you to know that we're here for you if you need anything." The mom said despite Gerald, Tess, and Diane being engaged in other conversations.
"Thank you so much Penny." Mimi, thankfully, spoke for them both because he was far too preoccupied with the petite brunette. She was slowly making her way around her parents, coming to a stop directly in front of Austin and offering another half-smile.
Ally was just as beautiful as ever. Underneath the wide-brimmed hat, her hair hung in big, loose curls around her face and delicate shoulders. She wore a sheer, black, long-sleeved, button-up blouse fastened all the way up to the collar and tucked into those high-waisted black cigarette pants that showed off her ass so expertly. Austin eyed her, uncaring if it made her uncomfortable or not. He followed the gold, feather-shaped buttons on her shirt back up to that lovely face. She was wearing a little more make up than yesterday, mascara and liner that made her eyes impossibly big and, of course, the scarlet lipstick.
"Are you okay?" she asked it gently, letting the words roll softly from in between her lips.
Standing there staring at this guarded brunette, once again he was reminded that it was her, Allyson, that truly drew him in, not the red. Austin tried to keep his heartbeat in check and stuffed his hands in his pockets.
"Walk with me?"
She nodded.
They abandoned their parents' conversation and headed off in the first direction his feet turned him. As the duo trekked across the grass, he stared down at their shoes. Hers were black and white oxfords with gold fringe.
"Okay I'm just gonna-…" she blurted out and Austin looked at her, "Um well…I know I acted like a crazy person last night."
He smirked, "Yeah."
"I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that."
He just shrugged like he always did when she made a big deal out of something he wasn't even upset about, "It's cool. We've all been there."
"You mean screaming at someone over nothing?" Ally regarded him skeptically.
"Well it obviously wasn't nothing to you." he replied, "Everybody has a trigger, something that instantly pisses them off."
"Including you?"
"ESPECIALLY me." He grinned.
She was quiet for a second as they passed a tombstone, "Well I'm still sorry."
"Don't sweat it. And I won't call you…that anymore."
And her smile, though close-lipped, was finally full, "Thanks."
It seemed then, as they continued in no particular direction and neither spoke, that Austin and Ally had already found a comfortable silence with each other. She thought about the blonde boy that seemed so in control of himself. And he couldn't think of anything but his father.
"So are you ever gonna tell me what happened to your hand?" Austin asked when Mike's voice started to echo against his skull. Her right hand was still bandaged, albeit with less gauze.
She blushed a rosy magenta and adjusted the black purse hanging on her shoulder.
"I uh…um it looks like a lot of people brought umbrellas. Is it bothering you at all?"
"Hell no." he patted his right shoulder, "I've got old faithful with me."
"You know I was researching phobias yesterday and they are extraordinarily difficult to overcome. I mean some people use therapy and see psychologists and still never get over their fears. The fact that you did it on your own and in less than a year is really remarkable." Ally looked up at him genuinely impressed.
And, really, it wasn't like compliments were completely foreign to Austin. There were countless nights where he stepped off stage fatigued, sweaty, and coursing with adrenaline, only to find himself surrounded by hips and tits and belly piercings. Manicured hands would drag slowly down his chest while long jet black eyelashes batted flirtatiously. Then, as the scent of perfume rocked him into submission, lips caked with gloss and color would praise his guitar playing, fawn over his singing voice, and, many intimate hours later, moan in satisfaction. But this was different. He'd never had someone so intelligent and intriguing commend him on conquering his fear. Hell, he'd never had anyone compliment him about anything that wasn't his musical or sexual ability. When he told the guys he was no longer afraid of umbrellas they hadn't appreciated the significance at all. Jace even said something along the lines of "Whoop-de-fucking-doo". In their eyes, a fear of umbrellas was stupid, and who gives a shit if you overcome something stupid? He loved those guys, but none of them had researched phobias. None of them had even come close to using the word "remarkable".
But Ally had.
And, to his complete chagrin, there was heat rising steadily into his face.
Refusing to blush, he quickly tried to save himself with humor, "So you researched my condition? Sounds pretty romantic."
Ally rolled her eyes, "Oh whatever. I like to learn. Did you know that melophobia is the fear of music?"
"Fear of music? Jesus fucking Christ."
"I know right. Can you imagine? And phobophobia is the fear of phobias. And xanthophobia is the fear of the color yellow."
"Okay so you looked up ALL the phobias not just mine. Now I don't feel as special."
"Shut up." She shook her head playfully.
"What about you Ally? What're you afraid of?"
She was quiet long enough for them to pass by 3 closely placed gravestones. "Do you have any siblings?"
"Nope. How about you?"
"No I don't. Hey what about OHA? When are you going to that?"
It shocked him for a second, her actually answering a question, even if it was a simple one and even if she immediately changed the subject afterwards.
"Uh I'll have to leave in a few hours. It's a really long drive to Atlanta and we have a show at midnight."
"Oh…I think I just felt a raindrop."
"Me too."
And maybe only 30 seconds after the words left his mouth, Austin was being pulled by the hand through an unending curtain of rain.
"Come on!" Ally shouted, her right hand tucked into her purse in an attempt to keep the gauze dry, her left hand gripping his as they ran.
He didn't know where she was leading him. He didn't care where she was leading him because she was leading him. They raced through the downpour, weaving around tombstones and flower bouquets. As they neared the packed parking lot, Ally released his hand so she could push her hat down a little tighter for security.
"This way!" she shouted at him over her shoulder, steering them both towards the left. The red Bug stuck out like a sore thumb. Austin pushed his wet hair out of his face. They approached the car from the driver's side and Ally quickly whipped out her remote, pressing the unlock button and making the front lights flash. He raced around to the passenger side, tearing the door open and practically throwing himself inside. Once both doors were slammed shut, they sat there filling the silence with their shallow panting.
The smell struck him first. It was fruity and sharp. He noticed a green apple shaped air freshener clipped directly to one of the center air vents.
"I don't think I have any towels but," she rummaged through the slight clutter of the backseat and produced a handful of clothes, "you can try and use this to dry off if you want."
Austin took the cloth from her and held it up. A yellow MUNY t-shirt.
"Damn. That came out of nowhere didn't it." He grinned at her as he removed his already loosened tie.
"I know right!" she used a grey pair of sweat pants to pat her face very carefully.
He could see that, surprisingly, Ally's makeup was completely intact and her hair still held a good majority of its curls. Apparently a hat was a good choice.
Austin removed his wet suit jacket and placed it on the armrest with his tie. Fortunately his shirt was only damp along the button area, where it hadn't been covered by the jacket. He unfastened 2 more of the buttons and began wiping at his partially exposed chest.
"It looks like a lot of people are still outside." Ally squinted past the rain, watching a good amount of the funeral attendees continue to mingle with their umbrellas open.
"Pssh fuck that." Austin rubbed the shirt roughly and rapidly in his hair and across his face.
"Oh my gosh. I think I'm actually getting used to your profanity."
He chuckled underneath the yellow tee, "All part of my master plan!"
"Shut up." She giggled, "Oh you can just toss that in the back when you're done."
Austin turned to replace Ally's shirt with the other miscellaneous items strewn across the backseat. But when he dropped the yellow cloth, something else caught his eye.
"Quick question." He said, bringing the item to the front, "Why'd you leave this in the car?"
Ally stopped examining herself in the visor mirror, letting her brown eyes flicker over to him. And when she saw the little green umbrella in his hand, she began to blush.
"Uh um well I knew a lot of people were going to bring their umbrellas and I…you know, I knew you'd be here and I didn't want to contribute to the uh…I mean not that I think you couldn't handle it or anything like that. I just figured one less umbrella couldn't hurt."
Austin's heart stuttered briefly at her thoughtfulness and then the blush was impossible to deter.
"Oh." He tossed the umbrella to the back and ran a hand through his hair.
"I'm sorry. Are you offended?" her eyebrows knit in worry, "I'm sorry."
"No I'm not offended I swear." He pretended to wipe his shoes off in an effort to avoid looking at her directly. "I appreciate the hell out of it actually."
She sighed in relief, "Okay good."
Once the heat in his face began to subside, Austin noticed droplets of water still dripping from his hair. He went to grab Ally's yellow shirt again when he heard her gasp softly.
"Is that another tattoo?"
He followed her gaze to where his shirt had opened further in his attempts to stretch towards the backseat.
"Yeah." Austin pushed his hair out of his face then pulled the fabric open wider. There across his exposed left pec were the letters 'WWDD?' surrounded by a black rectangle about the size of a name tag.
"What does it mean?" her eyes traced the bold lines.
"It stands for "What would Didi do?" you know kind of like "What would Jesus do"?"
"Who's Didi?"
"She was my best friend Dez's older sister. Didi…from the day I met her she was just too good a person. She was just a real life, heaven on Earth, good person." He paused, "Me and the guys would always joke and say 'what would Didi do?' when we knew that the more fun thing wasn't necessarily the more righteous thing. We didn't always follow it." Austin chuckled, "We never followed it actually. But we always said it. And when she passed away all 4 of us got the tattoo."
"How did she die?"
Austin's eyes drifted to his hands where they lay curled in his lap. "Pancreatic cancer. It spread. She was in chemo for a long time and the shit didn't even work."
He knew that chemotherapy was sometimes only meant to prolong life and not necessarily cure the patient. And it had done just that. It prolonged Didi's time on Earth, leaving her sick and weak and bald until she eventually died anyway. Hers was Austin's first experience with death. He was 18 years old and it unleashed this dull ache that started in the apex of his heart and throbbed up to the base. He endured it though, with music and friends. It was nothing compared to the merciless hollowing he felt over his father's passing. That ache wasn't an ache at all, it was an excavation of his vital parts and he wasn't sure when he'd finally fold in on himself. There was no music for this agony, no friends to understand his lifelong battle with hating someone he had no choice but to love. This pain needed drugs: coke, weed, and Ally…
Austin snapped from his trance as a delicate but bandaged hand gently covered his own. He stared at the mint green fingernails.
"I'm so sorry you're hurting Austin." her voice, whispering and full to the brim with concern, was a soothing sound.
He closed his eyes and sighed, relishing the feel of it against his ear drums.
"I'm so sorry." She whispered it again and he felt the gentle hum of electricity ignite between their joined flesh.
Austin opened his eyes and continued to scrutinize her hand, not quite able to look up yet. His pitch black pupils slid meticulously along the fine lines of her knuckles, they smoothed over her fair skin. Slowly, Austin clasped Ally's right hand in his and allowed his thumb to stroke gingerly along the thick white gauze.
The blonde's voice rasped with gentle seriousness, "What happened to your hand Ally?"
There was a significant silence, somehow made even heavier by the constant patter of rain against glass and metal.
"D-do you remember yesterday at the wake when you said that sometimes," she was speaking so very softly, "when stuff breaks you, it helps to break stuff back?"
"Yeah." He continued to stare at her hand.
"Well I um…ugh," she scoffed as if thoroughly embarrassed, "After we left I couldn't stop thinking about what you said. So I went to the Goodwill and bought like 6 cheap little glass vases and I took them down to our basement….my parents were out getting groceries or something. I grabbed one of my dad's old golf clubs and I-…."
Ally bit her lip momentarily then sighed like the satisfaction was washing over her all over again, "God it felt good at first. There was strength there that I didn't even know I had. I was gripping the club so tight that my hands hurt. Each little vase just exploded completely…..God it felt good Austin."
His stomach flipped when she said his name.
"It wasn't until I went to smash the 5th one that I realized I was crying." Ally paused again, "I was bawling and I couldn't stop and I really didn't want to destroy anything anymore. I tried to hurry and clean everything up before my parents got back but I just could NOT stop crying." She gripped his hand a little bit tighter, as if it was the golf club, "I tripped over an old box of photos and fell and this huge piece of glass went right into my hand. My mom and dad were walking in the house just as I screamed. They ran downstairs and found me sitting on the floor, bleeding all over the place and crying uncontrollably." She sighed, "We were just getting back from the emergency room when you kidnapped me for our walk."
Austin chuckled and spoke to her delicate fingers, "So that's why you were in such a pissy mood?"
"Partially yeah." The smile in her voice evident. And then, after a short silence where the rain drummed around them, she flipped her hand over, "10 stitches."
And as she offered him the softness of her palm, his despondent brown eyes finally lifted. They climbed her arm with its sheer black sleeve before curving over her shoulder and burying themselves in curls of chocolate brown and honey blonde. They ascended her elegant neck, ensconced in more of that sheer black and adorned with gold buttons made to look like feathers in the wind. They scaled her dainty chin and wandered, temporarily disorientated, about her incredibly red lips. For a second he watched her mouth part to take in a much needed breath. Then his gaze was rising again, up and over her nose to finally reach an entire field of dark brown cherry wood. When their eyes met, hers surrounded by never ending lashes and swirling beautifully with some secret tragedy, the Beetle's temperature escalated.
She was always so engaged when they spoke. Austin discovered that his pulse was almost faster than the rain when he thought of his words floating around her brain, influencing her decisions. Ally didn't look at him with hungry eyes that couldn't wait for him to stop talking and start undressing. She didn't get completely lost in even the simplest conversation and stare vacantly until the words were done and she could finally ask him not to forget her when he got rich and famous. And because of that, he made the kind of eye contact with her that couldn't be broken even if he wanted it to be; the kind that hurt because she could potentially look inside of him and see all the bitter murkiness he held.
They were still holding hands as Austin started to lean in, his disheveled blonde hair falling slightly into his face. It wasn't until he was practically over the armrest that Ally made any kind of forward movement. He was fully aware that their gradual closeness was 90% him and only 10% her. But wasn't that how they seemed to always do things? Didn't he constantly offer more just for the sole reward of having her offer even just a little? Austin didn't mind though because it was worth it, each and every time.
They were millimeters apart and she was frowning gorgeously with her eyes closed. It was the last thing he saw, that delicately furrowed brow, before his eyelids fell and their lips touched cautiously. Warmth. That's all he could register. And then suddenly, softness and pressure. She trembled as she kissed him with a feather's lightness.
"Austin…." She breathed his name, both syllables pushing themselves across her lips.
"I know, I know," he whispered into the darkness, allowing his mouth to brush against hers, "I just…I need…"
He kissed her once more. He knew she was afraid, that she was thinking about the walls she'd carefully constructed around herself and how this gentle meeting of lips could destroy her. But Austin felt Ally kissing him back and, regardless of her trepidation, he couldn't bring himself to abandon it. She tasted like the home he'd always wanted, the affection he'd been starved of. He pressed closer, firmer, and reached up to gently cup her cheek in his hand.
She gasped like a woman deprived of air for too long and sent both of her palms forcefully into his chest. Austin was pushed backwards, away from the armrest and into the passenger seat as Ally crushed herself to the driver's side door like she'd give anything and everything to be somewhere else. She panted as if she couldn't breathe in such a confined space, chest rising and falling and dying for oxygen. Her left hand clutched the steering wheel, her right gripped the seat with all its might.
"Ally-"
"Please get out." She whispered, her eyes staring down at the armrest without blinking and her body rigid with unimaginable tension.
"But I-"
"Get out!"
He yanked on the door handle, not wanting to cause her any more grief, not wanting to make any more of the seconds or minutes of her life unbearable. Austin gazed at her one last time, watching those wide captivating eyes flush with tears, before grabbing his tie and jacket and rushing out into the cool rain.