Austin and I were walking the beach in silence. "So," Austin let out, semi-awkwardly.
"So," I echoed.
"Why did you want to hang out?" Austin asked.
I actually didn't know. "Uh, just thought it would get the creative juices flowing," I fibbed. He nodded, convinced. I continued, "I figured it would be easier to write if we at least hung out once, ya know?"
He nodded, "Good idea," he managed to grin down at me. I returned the smile. We fell under a traumatic silence again. Austin cleared his throat awkwardly, "How are you and Dallas?"
I think I hesitated, "We're doing good. He asked me to be his girlfriend."
He sounded shocked when he asked, "he did?"
"Yeah, I said yes," I caught myself smiling. Dallas was perfect; his hair, his eyes, his grin, the way he moved, he was kind and fun, he surfed. He was just...perfect.
"You really like him, huh?" he questioned. When I looked up at him, I saw that he had been watching me when I was staring at the sand on the beach with a goofy smile on my face. I smiled a little wider and nodded. "Remember when you hired him by accident at Sonic Boom?"
I let out a laugh, "Yes."
"Dez and I were trying to break a record for how long we could spin a basketball on our finger tip," he chuckled, "Dallas broke a lot of stuff. He sold a guitar for the wrong price. You mowed his lawn plus other people's lawns and then you didn't know how to fire him and so Trish hired that choir who fired him through a song instead."
"Why are you bringing this up?" I laughed. Austin smiled over at me.
"I don't know, re-living good memories," he replied. I laughed again slightly. "We were really good friends back then."
I felt a lump in my throat and nodded, "Yeah."
"Yeah.." he echoed, looking down to his feet. "Remember when you sprained my ankle when I tried to teach you how to dance for Trish's quinceanera?" Austin said.
"Don't," I said making him laugh.
"Then it turns out I taught you for nothing because Dallas didn't even want to dance with you," Austin said.
"It's not that he didn't want to dance, he didn't know how to dance. Like me!" I said.
"Sure, that was it," he mumbled. I looked at him confusedly before shaking my head and choosing not to get into it. "I just remember that he really embarrassed you."
"But it was okay, because he danced with me at the end of the night." I retorted. He was hesitant but he still nodded.
"But then he never came around ever again," he added.
"Wrong. Then he worked at Sonic Boom, then I fired him - or I guess the choir did, then he never came around again." I told him, matter-of-factly. Austin chuckled slightly.
"I thought you got over him," Austin said, kicking the sand with his feet.
"I did. But then I realized why I used to like him and, I don't know, it sort of came back," I smiled. I didn't want to mention to Austin about what Dallas said to me when I wrote that song last night because I knew Austin would bash him and that would upset me. Although I was upset with what Dallas commented, I still really did like him.
After that conversation, Austin tossed us into a different flashback about the time when we went to the beach and I got stuck in the beach chair thus later on composing our favourite song Heard It On The Radio.
. . . . . . .
"Where are you going now? Out with Dallas again?" Trish questioned, but she had a tone in her voice. Three and a half months have passed by since Dallas asked me to be his girlfriend. Austin and I have composed more music and better songs (and I'd be lying if I said we weren't getting closer) , Trish has become more hostile towards Dallas as the days went by, and Dallas and I have started spending a lot of time together.
"Yes," I responded, casting her a look. She lifted her arms in defense. Finally, I felt really angry. She's so rude towards my boyfriend and then when I send her looks she makes it out like I'm the bad guy! "Well, you know, you're really starting to tick me off, Trish." She wasn't expecting that so she looked at me with wide eyes. "You constantly call him down to my face , you mock him behind my back - I've heard you with Dez! You're my best friend and I thought you'd be supportive, so why aren't you?"
She was quiet for a moment. "You're right," she finally said. "I haven't been supportive, because when your best friend gets a boyfriend and you're happy for them, you're supposed to congratulate them. But I won't congratulate you, Ally, because I'm not happy for you." I looked at her, feeling as if I'd just been slapped twice across the face. "I'm not happy for you because he is not the guy you should be with. I'm not being biased, I've seen how he is with you, Ally, he never took interest until you came back famous and successful, and I don't understand why you're too blind to see that!" I felt something twist in my gut and I didn't know what it was - I think it was knowing, like I knew it too, but I forced myself into denial, shaking my head. "I don't want you to get hurt, Ally. That's all. I'm worried that he will hurt you."
I suddenly felt myself go into a state of awe as I looked at her. "Oh," I murmured when suddenly a smile curled on my lips, "Trish, you don't have to worry. I'll be okay. I promise."
She looked like she wanted to say more but she didn't, instead she nodded her head. I walked over to her and threw my arms around you. I heard her murmur, "I'm sorry for not being supportive. I will from now on." I didn't care that the words sounded forced, I was just happy that she said them.
My phone buzzed and I saw the text from Dallas, letting me know that he was waiting outside. He used to get up and walk to the door, but he stopped as of two weeks ago. I didn't mind, I just figured it was because we were starting to get more comfortable with each other now.
"He's here, I'll see you when I get home." I told her.
"Don't come back too late. He has a tendency to keep you past the curfew I've given you," she said. That was true. Trish has made me promise to never stay out past eleven. I laughed slightly and nodded, walking out the door.
I couldn't understand why Trish didn't like him. He made me laugh, he was nice, he took me to cool places, he was good to me. The car ride was short-lived, he'd taken me to Melody's Diner and we ate Chicken Pot Pie and shared a milkshake. I giggled when we bumped noses. He gave me a twisted smile, it looked forced. I was confused.
"Are you okay?" I questioned him when we got into the car.
"Yes," he said a little too quickly.
"No, you're not. What's wrong?" I questioned, grabbing his hand. He pulled it from my grasp.
"Ally, sometimes I just need space," he said. I glanced at him oddly. That didn't even make sense, we didn't even start holding hands until last month and he's the one who is always grabbing at me.
"Sorry," I mumbled, looking out the window.
He sighed, "No, I'm sorry. I got into a fight with my Dad."
"Oh," I frowned, "Why?"
"He was mad because I quit my job," he said. My eyes widened. Dallas worked at an Auto Mobile Company where he fixed cars and he was good at it and got paid well.
"Dallas!" I shrieked. He sighed.
"Ally, not you, too..." he groaned.
"Dallas, that job was awesome and you loved it! Why would you quit?" I questioned.
"Well, I figured since you and I are together that I don't exactly need a job. I mean, we're getting closer and I really like you and I know you like me, too, our relationship is going somewhere. Maybe we could move in together." he said.
I could feel the wheels turning in my mind before coming to a screeching stop. "Move in?" I gawked, "Dallas, it's been nearly four months only. I can't move in with you. I'm not even living here."
"Well, I can go to L.A with you when the album is done. By the time we'll have been dating for a year or more," Dallas said.
"I...I guess," I stammered unsure. I didn't feel comfortable with this conversation, but there was no way out. I tried to take flight by staring out the window and watching the city pass by, speaking of city, why are we leaving the city? I felt nervous. "Where are we going?"
"I wanted to sit by the lake," he told me. I relaxed and smile. "But come on, Ally, we could do this. Move in together and start our lives. Ally Smith sounds nice-"
"Dallas, stop," I blurted unexpectedly, shocking myself. He looked at me. "Dallas, I don't want to talk about this stuff."
"What do you mean?" he questioned me.
"Dallas, we've been going out for four months. We're only 19 and 20 and you're talking to me about moving in and marriage and our lives," I shook my head, "I'm not ready for that."
"Why not?" he questioned.
"I'm just not," I said firmly. "I really like you, Dallas, I do, but moving in and marriage? You need to slow down. I'm hardly an adult, Dallas."
"Yet you can handle a life-long career," he snapped at me.
"Because it's what I love - wait, no, that came out wrong!" I shrieked. He looked at me with a dark look.
"So you don't love me?" he questioned. I shook my head.
"No! No! That's not it!" I said, "I mean, no I don't love you, I-I mean," I took a deep breath, realizing I was just bombing and possibly wrecking this relationship, "Ok. I don't love you, but I really like you, maybe in a few more months that could grow to be love. Okay. There. And my career is simpler than life. You're talking about a life commitment, Dallas, and I can't...I'm not ready for that." Because when I hear commitment, I hear the sound of my mother yelling at my father and my father declaring he wanted a divorce.
"I see," Dallas said, stiffly. I sighed.
"I'm sorry. I...I'm not good with talking about my feelings," I groaned, "This is why I write songs, so much easier." I grumbled.
"Yet you write music, speaking of music, you haven't written any songs about me," he said.
"Well...Well I...I just..." I stumbled over my words. He had parked the car but wasn't making an effort to get out. But I sure was! My hands were shaking and I grabbed my seatbelt, clipping it off of me and trying to stumble out of the car. I really needed air.
"Don't get out of this car," he said firmly in a tone I'd never heard before. I glanced back at him. "Ally, You just admitted you don't love me, you haven't even written a song about me. I'm really upset about this." Stop being such a baby, I thought to myself but didn't have the confidence to actually say it to him.
What I did have the confidence to say: "Why do I get the feeling that you only want to date me for my music?"
His eyes went wide and sincere, "What? Ally, don't think that. I like you for who you are. Not your music."
I smiled, believing him. "Ok."
He took a deep breath, "Let's just calm down and sit by the lake. This argument was petty." I nodded and watched him get out of the car first before I took a deep breath and followed suit; getting out of the car and joining him by the lake.
. . . . . .
[Trish]
"They're making another Zalien's Movie!" exclaimed Dez, on his phone. He showed Austin and I the proof by flashing the screen in our face where the director announced it on his twitter.
"YES!" Austin and I exclaimed and the three of us starting rolling around on the floor and jumping off the furniture in excitement. To further our excitement, Dez popped in a Zalien movie.
When Ally strolled inside, our faces were glued to the TV. "Zalien's, really?"
"SHH!" we shushed her in unison.
"Sorry," she grumbled. She set her purse down by her shoes and walked off into the kitchen. I sat in the living room with the boys for about twenty minutes before the feeling in my gut to go talk to Ally finally pushed me to get up.
I walked into the kitchen to see Ally sitting at the table with her head in her hands. I frowned. I walked up to her and nudged her shoulder slightly, "You okay?" I asked her. She looked up suddenly and I saw the weary look in her eyes, but she smiled at me.
"Yeah," she said, "just waiting for my pop tart," she motioned to the toaster. I stared at her.
"What happened?" I asked, knowing her like the back of my hand.
I could see my question wore her down some. The smile faltered slightly and her eyes got a little bit distant. "We just had an argument."
"You want to talk about it?" I asked her, concerned, taking my seat. I thought I saw her eyes glisten but she looked down at her hands and when she looked back up her eyes were still dry.
"I don't know. It was stupid. I mean, he started talking to me about," she looked around and whispered, "moving in."
My grew semi larger, "Whoa, What?"
"That's not it. Then he started talking about building a life with me and calling me Ally Smith." My eyes grew wider. She continued, "It freaked me out a little bit so I told him to cool it and slow down and he got mad and twisted my words into saying how I didn't love him," I thought her voice wobbled but when she carried on, her voice remained strong, "Then I tried to tell him that that wasn't it and I ended up telling him that I loved my career more than him, so I had to explain to him what I mean was that I wasn't ready to talk about that, for god's sake Trish, it's been four months! Not four years!"
"I hear ya," I said, stunned that he even brought that up to her.
"Then he got mad because I don't love him and I don't write songs about him! Like, where did that come from?" Ally was ranting now. I nodded to let her know I was still listening. "And, ugh," she took a deep breath then slowly let it out. "Then he said that the argument was petty and boom, just over, like that." Ally seemed confused and furious at the same time as she frantically lifted it arms and then dropped them to her sides. "Why does he get to call the shots?"
"Aw, it's your first fight," I teased her, trying to lighten the mood. She gave me a look to let me know that the comment was not needed. "Sorry," I murmured. "Are you guys okay now?"
"Yeah, No, I don't know," she shook her head. "I feel pressured with him."
"Pressured?" I echoed.
"Yes. Like he's just waiting for me to change my mind and fall to my knees and beg him to make me his wife. I'm nineteen, Trish, I don't want to get married or move in with him or build a life with him. I want to focus on my music. I'm happy that way, only focusing on my music, nothing else." she vented, tiredly.
I heard her pop-tart pop from the toaster but she didn't move. "And, ugh, I have a headache," she whimpered, putting her head in her hands again and using her palms to massage her forehead.
I reached over and touched her shoulder comfortingly. "Do you want some water?"
"Please," she murmured. I nodded and poured her a glass of water and handing it to her. She sipped it and I could see that these nearly-four-months with Dallas has completely worn her down and that made me hate Dallas even more. There was something about him that was hurting her, and I don't even think she realizes it herself. To be a better help, I grabbed a plate and set her pop-tart in front of her as well. "Thanks," she smiled up at me.
"Was that all?" I asked her, taking my seat across from her again.
She nodded, "Yes. Although when we sat at the lake he kept dropping hints that he was still mad at me, but I just ignored it." She dropped her pop-tart on her plate and went back to putting her head in her hands, scrubbing the tips of her fingers in her hair. It was obvious she was stressed and I felt bad for her. "I just don't want to feel obligated to have a commitment with him. I really like him, Trish, but I just don't want a commitment with him."
I felt sympathy well up in my chest when I saw a tear suddenly slip from beneath her hands onto her lap. Her breathing was shaky and I realized she was crying. That jerk. "Oh, Ally!" I wrapped my arms around her frame and she leaned into me. I could hear her trying to swallow her tears, but she just couldn't and I was okay with that. "You know what you need?" I let out, "a brownie! You need a brownie!" I heard her laugh softly through her tears. "I'll be back. Hopefully Dez and Austin haven't eaten it all."
I walked back into the living room and saw that they hadn't eaten the brownie. I took the plate. "What do you think you're doing?" Dez questioned, reaching for the plate. "We're not finished."
"Yes you are." I deadpanned. "Ally needs a brownie and she's going to eat this one."
"No, she can make her own brownie! I want that one and I've already eaten half of it so give it back!" Dez argued. I gave him a dark look and he grabbed it. I tugged it back, finally knowing that the only way to win this fight was to tell him the truth.
I knew Ally would throw a fit if she knew I'd told the boys so I kept my voice quiet, "Dez! She's crying!" I hissed through a whisper. He immediately let go of the plate and I saw both of the boys' eyes widen. "Thank you," I pursed my lips, taking the brownie.
"Is she okay?" Austin suddenly asked.
"I'm sure she will be," I said, sighing.
"What happened?" a concerned Dez asked.
"Dallas happened, that's what," I snapped, "they had an argument and it upset her, now if you'll excuse me, she needs her brownie." I then walked into the kitchen where I saw Ally, trying to use her sleeves to stop the tears that were running down her cheeks.
"Here," I murmured softly, staring at her with concern. She laughed slightly.
"I feel like I shouldn't be crying," she said, embarrassed.
"It's okay. You're just overwhelmed." I said. She nodded, taking a bite of the brownie. Her eyes were red and they were starting to puff slightly. She was really upset. That's when I saw her eyes flicker to the entrance of the kitchen. When I followed her gaze I saw Dez and Austin standing there, like curious and nervous little boys.
She looked away from them, obviously not wanting them to know that she was crying. They both shuffled over. Austin was the one who stood next to her though. I smiled at him.
"Are you okay?" Austin asked, staring down at her with worry. Ally managed to glance up at Austin.
"Yeah," she said, but her eyes were still full of tears. He didn't look away for one second, he kept searching her face as if he was trying to convince himself that she was.
"Do you want to write a song?" he questioned her, nudging her shoulder lightly like he knew she wanted to. Ally disappointed Austin when she shook her head.
"Come on, Ally, Music always makes you feel better," Dez chimed. "How about you play for us tonight?"
"Dez, she's upset, I doubt she'll want to-"
"Sure," Ally interrupted. I looked at her and saw a genuine smile on her face. Well, I didn't expect that. Dez gave me a look and I rolled my eyes at him. "But I want to finish my brownie," she said, causing everyone to laugh.
Ally did just that. She finished her brownie. We were all sat in the living room as we waited for Ally. She walked into the living room and the redness around her eyes were gone. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor, balancing the guitar in her lap.
"Let's hear a new one," I told her. She nodded and found her groundings on the guitar before she started to play.
I said oh my, what a marvellous tune
It was the best night
Never would forget how he moved
The whole place
Was dressed to the nines
And we were dancing, dancing
Like we're made of starlight
I met Bobby on the boardwalk
Summer of '45
Picked me up late one night
Out the window we were seventeen
And crazy, running wild wild
Can't remember what song it was playing when we walked in
That night we snuck into a
Yacht club party, pretending to
Be a duchess and a prince
And I said oh my, what a marvelous tune
It was the best night
Never would forget how he moved
The whole place
Was just to the nines
And we were dancing, dancing
Like we're made of starlight, starlight
Like we're made of starlight, starlight
He said, "Look at you, worrying too much about things you can't change.
You'll spend your whole life singing the blues if you keep thinking that way."
He was trying to skip rocks on the ocean, saying to me
"Don't you see the starlight, starlight? Don't you dream impossible things?"
Like oh my, what a marvellous tune
It was the best night
Never would forget how he moved
The whole place
Was just to the nines
And we were dancing, dancing
Like we're made of starlight, starlight
Like we're made of starlight, starlight
Ooh ooh, he's talking crazy
Ooh ooh, dancing with me
Ooh ooh, we could get married
Have ten kids and teach them how to dream
Oh my, what a marvellous tune
It was the best night
Never would forget how we moved
The whole place
Was dressed to the nines
And we were dancing, dancing
Like we're made of starlight, starlight
Like we're made of starlight, starlight
Like we're made of starlight, starlight
Like we dream impossible dreams
Like starlight, starlight
Like we dream impossible dreams
Don't you see the starlight, starlight?
Don't you dream impossible things?
We all clapped for Ally when she was finished which put a smile on her face as she thanked us. "That could go on the album if you want it to," Austin said. Her face lit up making him laugh.
"Yes! Yes!" she shrieked. For the rest of the night, Ally played her songs for her three friends and that's when Austin caught himself unable to take his eyes away from her. That's when he found one thing: he was still in love with Ally Dawson.