Chocolates and Choosers- An Auslly Story

Chapter Eight

Is anyone way too excited for the new episode tonight? ahhhh i saw the promo where like trish and dez kiss or something trez feels!!! and ally's a freaking chemist now whaaaat she should be a singer or who knows maybe not and where's austin the whole time 

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Austin's P.O.V.

And there goes everything.

I groaned, deciding to just come out and tell the truth. "Why do you have to be so dang smart?" I complained.

She smiled. "I know, I'm brilliant. Now, tell me why the song sounds like every other one we've written." She patted the space on the piano bench next to her. "Sit." 

I sat. "Because, because, um, because," I said, not really wanting to tell the truth anymore.

Ally looked at me. "Fine," I said, relenting. "Because, um, well, because, because I, um, like you?" I offered.

She studied me for a long time. "Really?" she finally questioned. 

I hid my face under my hands. "Uh, maybe?" 

Ally grinned. "That's cool. I guess."

My face slowly emerged from my hands. It went a lot easier than I had imagined. "You sure?" I asked tentatively.

She laughed this time. "I'm sure. To be honest, Austin, you made it pretty obvious."

I recalled a lot of times when she could've realized it. "Huh, yeah-" I started.

Ally interrupted me. "And, um, um," she began. Well, Ally, let's all be stammering Austin Moons. "Well, I guess we're more than just friends now? Again."

It was a good way to put it. Not anything special but nothing boring either. In between.

With all the awkwardness out of the way, we started perfecting the song and all the tiny gala details. "I want pink roses, not red ones!" demanded Ally.

"What does it matter?" I protested, clearly not undearstanding the female way of life. "Nobody cares about rose colors!"

"I do!" responded Ally. "So get me pink ones!"

I sighed, shaking my head. "Fine. Pink roses it is." I scribbled it down on a sheet of paper. "What else, bedazzled shoelaces?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Austin," Ally snorted. "I'm not wearing shoelaces. Bedazzle my heels instead." Then she laughed. "No, just kidding."

Dez and Trish walked in then. "What're you talking about?" asked Trish.

"Gala," answered Ally, writing something else down on the paper.

Dez's eyes widened. "Take me! Please, please, please!" He looked at us with begging eyes.

Trish shrugged. "Take me, I'm your manager." She flopped down onto the couch and stared warily at her nails.

Ally smiled. "Alright, fine, we can take you two, can't we, Austin?" 

"Pushover," I insisted, grinning. "Fine, we'll take you two."

"Yay!" cheered Dez.

"Yippee," stated Trish in a flat tone. "I get to go somewhere with Dez! Time of my life, people." She went back to picking at her nails, which were painted a bright pink.

"When's the gala?" Ally questioned.

I pulled out the crumpled invitation from my pocket. "Um," I said, trying to decipher the faded black letters. "Oh, shoot, it's tomorrow," I groaned. One day could've been a lot to another person, but to me it seemed like hardly anything.

Dez was shocked. "Excuse me? Do you think suspenders just grown on trees?"

Ally looked at him. "Well, if you have cotton suspenders, then bushes," she said confusedly. 

Trish seemed slightly aggravated as well. "And my nails! You just watched me pick them off! How do you think that'll affect my cuticles? How? I'll be going to an afterparty with disgraceful nails!" She sighed, like Dez had.

"Don't think my pink roses are a big deal, now, do you?" Ally asked.

I shook my head as an answer. "Guess you'll just have to deal with it, buddy," I said, patting Dez's shoulder. "You'll always have your backup suspenders."

Ally nodded at Trish. "And we can always buy fake nails."

We all started planning some more again, talking over one another and debating on ideas.

Still, take a look at me, not a care in the world. Neon green suspenders, stick-on nails, and specially colored roses didn't have any effect on me.

Well, I mean, I've still got one care.

I tuned out of Ally's and Dez's and Trish's conversation for a minute and thought for a second. More than just friends, another time.

I had to make that afterparty perfect.