Sand in Her Shorts
Sand in Her Shorts, an Austin and Ally oneshot
I do not own Austin and Ally. Please enjoy, review and feel free to leave prompts!
It was a complete and total accident.
As complete and total of an accident as falling in love with him. But we're getting ahead of ourselves here. It's best to start at the beginning.
"Hey Ally, they're giving away Florence and the Machine tickets at the beach for the first fifty people tomorrow. Wanna camp out overnight with me?" He already has two sleeping bags tucked under her arms. It looks like he made up her mind for her.
Still, she should give him some sort of answer. "Sure, why not?"
How about because sleeping on the beach will only lead to waking with sand in her hair, and a burn along her shoulder blades?
"Awesome. We can grab some dinner tonight, and then set up." He deposits the sleeping bags behind the counter. They refuse to stand.
"Here, let me help you with that." She unrolls a sleeping bag. If they get it tight and flat, it should stay upright.
Dez seeing the sleeping bags as he walks in asks, "A slumber party? How come I wasn't invited?"
"You didn't invite Dez to the beach tonight?" She presses her body against the bag to keep it tight.
It should have occurred to her when she saw he only had two bags that only they would be going. The bags weren't all that big. There was no way they could share them. Short of unzipping them and using them as blankets. Then the sand would not only be in her hair, but in her shorts as well.
Another point, while she's thinking of it. Who would be sharing the blankets? Would she get lumped with Trish (or rather a dummy in her place as she snuck home to her comfortable bed) or Austin? That could lead to disaster in the morning.
Though it would make her forget about the sand in her shorts.
"He has a dentist appointment tomorrow morning. He can't come." He shakes his head, yet he doesn't look disappointed. One would think that he wants to hang out with his best friend.
Then again, she's his best friend too, so technically he is. Just not all his best friends.
"Man," Dez whines, striking the air.
Would it be wrong if there was a small itty bitty part of her that was happy he couldn't come? For the sake of the sleeping bag arrangements, of course.
Don't roll your eyes at her.
Even if it's incredibly obvious that that lie is fatter than anything. (That includes her Uncle Terry, who has to undo his button at Thanksgiving to give the turkey 'room to breathe.')
She ties the sleeping bag together to make it stay. This time it stays propped up.
Beginning on the second one, she notices that Austin is watching her, with her back end perked in the air. Is she to be flattered or embarrassed? On one hand, it could mean he's interested and she should make her move. On the other, he could be learning how to properly roll a sleeping bag and only care for her in a best friend kind of way.
She's going to put her hands to a better use than weighing pros and cons.
Back to rolling the sleeping bag.
That night, they head to Melody Diner for dinner.
"I'm Cassidy, and I'll be serving you today. I'll get you menus right away," she sings, smiling at Austin.
She knew they shouldn't have come here. The place is packed.
Which is code for 'when did the pretty blonde waitress come back and ruin her chances of making her move?'
"Things didn't work out in L.A.?" She shouldn't have brought it up, but she's stepping on her toes (quite literally, as her new sandals are under her sneakers) and she has a right to know.
"Nah. They tried to change who we were, and I had to put my foot down." She lifts her foot for emphasis, and Ally moves hers away while she has the chance.
Cassidy tucks a pink streak of hair behind her ear.
All the better to hear what Austin's reply is. "You should meet Jimmy Starr. He's awesome. We're meeting with him Monday if you want to tag along."
She can't tell if he's being nice, or if he's still interested in her.
Suddenly, she's not so hungry anymore.
"I can't. I have to work. But thanks." As if remembering she is working, she checks over her shoulder for Mindy. "Would you like drinks while you wait? We've got milk, water, soda, lemonade."
"Lemonade please." Maybe if she uses manners, she'll like her enough when she tells her to keep her hands off her man.
Er, best friend.
"Make that two." He holds up his fingers. It's meant to signal two, but she sees it as a peace sign. As in, remain calm and keep the peace.
She can do that.
It'll be tough, but she's been through harder.
Like biting her tongue to a point where it bled because she was trying not to tell him how she feels. He'd held it in his hand with a napkin until it stopped. She'd blamed it on the hard candy she'd been eating.
Little did he know that had dissolved long ago.
What is she going to blame it on tonight?
"Now that Cassidy is back, are you two going to have that date?" As Ally says this, she comes back with their drinks and menus.
"I do owe you a date, don't I Blondie?"
"Don't worry about it." Compared to his enthusiasm last time, today he seems oddly indifferent to going out with her.
The notion makes her heart beat faster.
There's hope, and she's latching on, for if you can't hang onto hope in times like these, what are you going to hold? Each other?
She's not going to rule it out.
They each get a hot dog, a side of fries for her and onion rings for him.
Swiping a ring from his plate, she knocks over the ketchup bottle. Some pours into his lap.
"Gosh, I am so sorry!" Snatching a few napkins, she jumps from her seat. The onion ring lands on the table.
"No worries. It's fine." He takes the napkins and wipes off his pants. Red on red isn't going to hurt anything.
Despite his words, as they exit the restaurant after their meal, she needs to ask again. "Are you sure you aren't angry?"
"Psh, you know I love you."
From beating faster, to now stopped dead in its tracks, her heart is getting its work out today.
He rejected Cassidy twice (she double checked at the end of their meal that he didn't want to go out as she tucked that pink strand of hair back behind her ear), payed her half of the bill, and took her hand all nonchalantly like it was the most natural thing in the world.
He's still holding it.
"Really?" Don't dash her hopes. They can only be broken so much before they can't be mended again.
"Ally, I-" he starts. Confidence drops, and he chickens out. "You're my best friend."
Then why can't she wiggle her hand from his grasp?
"Right," she agrees.
He stops, and now her hand is free, but she realizes she preferred it in his hold. A nervous chuckle, followed by, "I love you, pal."
Right jab to the shoulder.
Holiest of all craps. That was the 'just friends, but I want way more than that' punch.
"I love you too, buddy." She punches back, perhaps too hard. He winces.
Hey, love hurts. But it can also be the best feeling in the world, as she slips her hand back into his, heading to the store. They're going to pick up their sleeping bags and head to the beach.
Maybe they'll just grab one sleeping bag. She could deal with sand in her shorts.
He's worth it.
They're worth it.
(Now to get him a clean pair of pants.)
(And maybe a kiss or two.)