Chapter Text
Kissing Will is a mistake, and she knows it as soon as their lips meet.
Seriously? Fuck her life.
Though it may not seem like it right now, since she’s drunk off her ass and the room is spinning and she hasn’t seen or heard from her sister since 8 p.m., Allie Pressman is probably one of the most cautious (paranoid), careful (anxiety-ridden) people you could ever meet. But it’s junior year, and Will’s been begging her to go with him to a party since they were freshmen, so she’d told that overly pessimistic voice in the back of her head to shove it for a few hours. After all, she was going to be with Will. What could go wrong?
A lot, apparently. For starters, she could drink too much, ignoring the fact that she has a world-ending secret crush on her best friend in the universe, and reveal said crush to him by pulling him in for a kiss while she’s flat-out wasted. Not how she wanted this moment to go at all.
Will backs up and shoots her a look of disgust, which makes her stomach lurch and her eyes prick with tears.
“Say something,” she begs, though she’s not sure what she’s begging for. There are two things that look could mean. One, Will is upset that she did not ask for his consent before kissing him, which is totally and completely possible, since they’re both pretty big on it. Honestly, Allie’s a little queasy knowing she didn’t ask first, and she’ll definitely be apologizing for that for a while, even if Will does feel the same.
And if he doesn’t — possibility number two — Allie is screwed.
“Allie,” he says, patronizingly, and suddenly she cannot be in this room oh my God.
“I’ve just got to—” She laughs nervously, pointing behind her. She turns and bolts, but she doesn’t get too far because the scene going down directly in front of her is the ugliest breakup she has ever witnessed firsthand. Also, maybe the only breakup she has ever witnessed firsthand.
“I can’t believe you!” Kelly Aldrich screams, slapping Harry Bingham (yes, the Harry Bingham, Cassandra’s chief rival, because that’s the kind of luck she’s having tonight) straight across the face.
He presses a hand to his face. Allie thinks she can spot the beginnings of tears in his eyes. “It was a misunderstanding, Kelly, I didn’t do anything!” Oh, God, no, she doesn’t want to be here for this. She backs up right into Will, who not-quite rests a hand to her arm in a gesture she assumes is supposed to be comforting. Instead, it just makes her sick.
Her stomach turns again. Oh, God.
Kelly scoffs and crosses her arms, and Harry’s reaching out for her, and Will is still trying to let her down even though she already knows he’s going to reject her (she’d always known, deep down), and it’s too much too much too much—
She throws up. Right on Kelly and Harry’s shoes.
Kelly screams again, and Harry jumps backwards a beat too late, and now Will is actually trying to tug her away from the chaos she’s just created.
“Let go,” she mutters, letting herself cry freely, overcome with shame and embarrassment, and holy hell she is never coming to one of these again.
“Allie,” Will says again in that voice, the one that says you are a child, a disaster, a nuisance and a burden, and I don’t think I could ever love you that way if I tried. She flinches aways from him and bites back a sob.
“I’m going home,” she tells him, and she hates how small she sounds. “I’m—” She shudders, only glancing back at the wreck she’s left of Kelly and Harry before she actually makes a move and runs. She makes it all the way outside and down the front steps before she’s wretching again, this time into the bushes instead of on shoes that definitely cost more than her entire outfit.
“Whoa.” She hears someone whistle behind her.
She sniffles loudly, wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her jacket. “Just leave me alone.”
The mysterious person does not, in fact, leave her alone. She hears them take a step towards her as she’s hit with another wave of nausea. “Allie, right?”
She nods, hands on her knees, panting. She feels a hand on her shoulder. “Who brought you here tonight?”
“C-Cassandra,” she hiccups. “She drove me and Will. But I can’t…” It hits her, then, that if she waits until Cassandra is ready to leave, she’ll also have to wait until Will is ready to leave, and the thought makes her cry even harder. The person behind her clears their throat.
“Well, um, hey. I can drive you? If you want, I mean. I was planning on heading out soon anyway.” She wipes at her face again (she’s definitely washing this jacket when she gets home), and stands up to find herself face to face with Grizz. If Allie wasn’t so utterly exhausted, she would probably be red with shame.
Grizz is one of the biggest football stars on campus. Allie doesn’t know him that well, but he’s always been decent to her, if only because he knows her sister. She swallows. “Yeah, that'd be nice,” she says shakily.
He looks… sad. Not like he pities her, more like… More like he gets it. Like he knows how she feels. She tries to smile at him, but it comes off forced. He doesn’t seem to mind.
“C’mon.” He nods his head off down the driveway. “We can make a pitstop at McDonald’s before we drop you off at home.”
Her brows furrow. “That’s in the complete opposite direction of my house.” Grizz rolls his eyes.
“Live a little, Allie,” he tells her, and she realizes he’s teasing her. This time, she does smile.
“Okay,” she breathes, “okay.” She shoots Cass a quick text so her sister doesn’t panic, and hops into the passenger seat of Grizz’s car. He tosses her a plastic bag.
“Got a strict ‘no vomiting’ policy, sorry,” he shrugs. She snorts.
“I’ll try my best not to puke on you.”
“You’d better not. Not a very nice ‘thank you.’” He’s grinning, but suddenly there’s a pit in her stomach.
“Oh God,” she mumbles. “I’m sorry. I—”
“Allie,” he interrupts, “stop.” Her lip wobbles. He sighs and turns to her. “There’s this quote I like from Dante. It goes, ‘He who sees a need and waits to be asked for help is as unkind as if he had refused it.’”
“That’s kind of beautiful,” she says.
“You don’t have to thank me,” he tells her. She smiles at him, and he smiles back.
Later, when Grizz drops her off at home, after she’s sobered up a significant amount and the world feels more grounded, she pulls him in for an awkward hug.
“There might be a little puke on my jacket,” she whispers, “so I’m sorry for that.”
“Gross, Allie,” he whispers back. She lets go first.
“Seriously, Grizz, thank you for rescuing me.”
“Remember Dante, Allie.” He winks. She rolls her eyes playfully.
“Fine, I’ll retract my thank you. Happy?”
“Extremely."
She hops out of the car and waves while he pulls out of the driveway. She showers, changes, and hops into to bed, perfectly content, and that’s when the full rundown of the night chooses to hit her full force. She sits up, breathing hard.
Holy shit. What is she going to do on Monday?
There’s only one person Allie wants to direct the fall show with, and at the moment, he’s not speaking to her. Serves her right for drunkenly confessing her feelings. It’s the first and last time she’ll be going to Luke Holbrook’s back to school bash.
“Maybe he just needed time to process,” Becca tells her while she’s grabbing her books out of her locker. “Maybe now that he’s had the weekend, he’ll tell you he feels the same.”
Sam taps her shoulder so she can turn and see his response. “Have you heard from him at all since Friday night?”
She sighs. “No. He left me on read.”
Sam frowns. “Dick.”
Allie barks out a laugh, shutting her locker with more force than she needs. “I wish you two had applied with me.” At that, they both look apologetic.
“Sorry, Al,” Becca says as they walk to class. “I promised Sam I’d help him do tech this year.”
“And I didn’t want to direct.” They all laugh at that, and Sam scrunches his nose playfully. “Most kids can’t sign anyway. They wouldn’t understand me. It’d be a mess.”
“Fuck them,” Allie tells him bluntly. “Who needs them?”
“You,” Becca reminds her. “Unless you’re planning on a one-woman production of ‘Little Shop of Horrors.’”
“I’d see that.” She shoves Sam lightly, playfully glaring at him.
“I wonder who else applied.”
“Cassandra?” Becca asks. She shakes her head.
“No, she’s auditioning for Audrey. Remember, that’s why Gordie decided to try out?”
Secretly, Allie’s grateful Cassandra didn’t apply. It’s horrible of her to think like that, but just for once, she wants everyone to see the Pressman sisters as two different people instead of Cassandra and Little Cassandra, Cassandra and Cassandra’s sidekick.
But when that fades, she’s back to wondering who she’s going to get stuck co-directing with, if she even gets to be a director, and she feels her stomach turn. If it’s Will, he’ll either be forced into talking to her and they’ll have to pretend things are normal and fine and good, or he’ll do everything in his power not to talk to her and the show will be a complete and total disaster.
And if it’s not Will…
Sam nudges her, and she snaps back. “When are they announcing the decision?”
“After school.” They get to Allie’s history class before Sam and Becca’s room.
“Stay strong, Al.” Becca smiles in sympathy. Allie waves and watches them walk away before turning and seeing…
Will. And in the seat beside him, in her usual spot, is Kelly Aldrich. Right, how could Allie forget? Kelly had also had an eventful Friday night, which ended with her breaking up with her longtime boyfriend, Harry Bingham. Harry, who’s sitting at the back of the classroom next to the only empty desk.
No fucking way. She shoots Will a look that says are you serious, but he’s pointedly not looking at the door and focusing on Kelly, which tells her exactly how he’s taking Friday night. She’s torn between rolling her eyes and stomping out or bursting to tears right here at the front of the classroom.
Their teacher clears his throat, and she swallows down the anger. Not the time. She makes her way to the back of the room and drops down into the seat beside Harry fucking Bingham.
Harry doesn’t react. He doesn’t even take the opportunity to mock her for what happened at the party. And when Mr. Miller announces partner work (because of-fucking-course he does), Harry just works quietly by himself.
She huffs. Whatever. He’s still an ass.
Lunch, Allie can tell, is going to be rough. She’s sitting at the usual table with Sam, Becca, Bean, Gordie, and Cass. There’s a notable absence of Will, but Allie can make a guess as to where he’s gone when she spots the equally notable absence of Kelly at her usual table, cozied up to Harry. She stabs at her salad with her fork. Fantastic.
“Allie?” Cassandra reaches out to squeeze her knee, completely missing the starry looks Gordie keeps throwing her way. “What’s up? Are you nervous about the director announcements?”
And while that’s not what’s got her in a bad mood, she sends up a “thank you” to whatever powerful deity has given her this excuse. See, the thing is, Allie hasn’t actually told Cassandra what happened Friday night. She assumed Will would’ve when she drove him home, but Will seems to want to pretend like nothing actually happened between them, and Allie’s too humiliated to tell Cassandra herself. Besides, Cassandra’s got other things to worry about, like her health and college and auditions and the not-so-subtle crush Gordie’s sporting for her, if she even knows about it.
“Allie?”
“Yeah,” she says quickly. “I just really want to get it.”
“You will,” Cassandra reassures her. “Everyone recognizes the work you put in to the past few shows.”
She shrugs, returning to the assault on her salad. She can feel the looks she’s getting from her tablemates, but if she were to actually see them, she’d completely lose it.
She stands. “You know what, I totally forgot to print my essay for English. I’m gonna head to the library. See you guys later?” She swings her bag over her shoulder and grabs her tray. Before anyone can interject that no, Allie does not, in fact, have an essay due the second Monday of the school year, she’s storming out the cafeteria doors.
School cannot end soon enough. Though it hasn’t been the only thing on her mind today, she’s still beyond ready to know whether or not she’ll be directing the show this semester. The names get posted on the theatre door after school for everyone to see, and Allie, in a tizzy of nerves and excitement, elbows her way to the front of the crowd.
“Allie?” She turns to see Grizz, also trying to push his way through. “Hey, how’re you feeling?”
“Better,” she smiles. “Thanks.”
He gestures to the door. “Shall we?”
She laughs as he links their arms, pulling her with him past the rest of their peers. Finally, she can make out the names on the list, and she almost squeals when she sees her name is first. “I got it! I’m a director!”
She turns to Grizz excitedly, but finds him with his jaw hanging, staring at the second name. She crosses her fingers, though she’s not really sure if she’s hoping it is or isn’t Will.
“Gareth Visser,” she reads. She makes a face. “Gareth?”
“Grizz for short,” he tells her.
She snickers. “How do you get Grizz from—” It hits her.
She spins around. “You!”
“Me!” Grizz points to himself.
“Allie and Grizz,” she hears someone say from behind her. “Now that’s an odd combination.”
She stares at her new co-director, and feels her stomach twist.
“So…” Grizz nods. “I guess we’re partners.”
Well. This could be interesting.