Chapter Text
Ally sighed, yet another year of high school she had to get through. On the bright side, she only had two more to get through until she left high school forever. She couldn't wait. She was never one of the popular kids, but after last year's fiasco- let's not go into it, but basically, everyone hated her. And to make things worse, poor little closeted Ally had a crush on- yep, cheerleader Stevie Boebi. All the guys wanted to date her, all the girls wanted to be her. (Well, some of the guys wanted to be her, and Ally definitely wanted to date her.)
So Ally took a deep breath and threw on some jeans and her lucky red Blink-182 tshirt, ready to face another term of people being horrible to her. What fun.
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Stevie pulled herself up out of her bed and busied herself applying her make up, pretending not to see the fact that this wasn't her. Her friends weren't really her friends, she felt terrible when they bullied that girl, Ally something- see even there, she knew Ally's full name, but she had to pretend, even to herself, that she couldn't care less about Allison Hills.
"STEVIE" her brother yelled from downstairs. "BREAKFAST."
Stevie sighed "I'm coming, Clay." She shouted back.
She walked downstairs, adjusting her skirt and putting her handbag on her shoulder.
She grabbed a piece of toast as she walked out of the door. "I'm going to be late." She said, "I'll see you later."
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Ally walked down the hallways, dreading the moment that Stevie's posse noticed her. It wasn't long until they did.
"Hey, you." One of the girl said, pointing at Ally. Ally just closed her eyes and walked past.
"Are you ignoring me?" The girl said, walking up to Ally.
"No, no I just, well, I need to get to class." Ally lied, shifting her blue messenger bag on her shoulder. Her first class wasn't for 10 minutes, and it was really close to where she was.
"Oh, well I'm sure you can put this in the bin for me," smiled the girl sweetly, pouring her coffee over Ally's chest. "Thank you!" She laughed, walking back over to her friends who were all laughing. Ally had to convince herself that it didn't hurt when she saw that Stevie was laughing as well. She blinked back tears, not wanting to give those bitches the satisfaction of seeing that they had won, and walked into the toilet, trying to save her t shirt from its imminent demise. Not so lucky after all.
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Stevie watched Lilly pour her coffee on Ally Hills, trying not to feel anything as Ally's face dropped.
Lilly walked back, laughing.
'It'll look weird if I don't laugh. Anyway, I don't care about Ally Hills.' Stevie thought, lying to herself once again.
She told herself she didn't notice Ally looking at her.
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Sitting in class, Ally felt like screaming. She loved music, but the teacher NEVER did anything interesting. And then there was the fact that Stevie Boebi was sitting about three feet away from her.
"Okay," Mr. Allen said "we're going to be doing a project, so when I call out your names, you two will be working together. Chrissy Chambers and Bria Kam. Madison Clark and Stephanie Frosch, Allison Hills and Stevie Boebi, Camden Scott and Shannon Beverige, Angleica Perez and Day Lynn…"
he droned on, but Ally wasn't listening. Allison Hills and Stevie Boebi? It couldn't be true. She put her hand up.
"Uh, excuse me sir, did you, uh, did you, who was I with?" She questioned.
"Stevie Boebi. Why." Mr. Allen replied, looking at her funny.
"Oh, uh, no reason, just, just forgot. That's all." Ally replied,smiling nervously. She was not looking forward to having to parter up with someone who bullied her on a daily basis. She looked over to where Stevie was sitting, and put her hand up as a sort of wave. Stevie just ignored her.
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'Shit.' Stevie thought. 'Of all the people who I had to but put with, it would be Ally Hills. She probably hates me. I would, if I was her.'
She didn't notice Ally wave at her.
As class ended, she decided she would go and introduce herself to Ally. After all, they were going to be partners for a while, they were going to have to talk.
"Hi." She said. "I'm Stevie."
"Yeah. I know who you are." Ally replied slowly, trying to analyse the situation. Why was Stevie talking to her? Oh. "Don't worry, I've got things sorted out, I can do the project, you don't have to waste your time with me. It's cool."
Stevie felt shocked. Her friends- and her were mean to this girl, yet she was offering to do the entire project. She couldn't let that happen.
"No, no it's fine, I'll do it with you." Stevie insisted. "What were we supposed to do? I was- uh, texting." She said. She couldn't have people knowing she was drawing, and drawing something a teeny bit gay. That would make her seem different, and in high school, different was bad.
"We had to write a song. With, like, instruments. So I guess, if you're gonna do it with me, what do you play?"
"Me? Oh, I play bass." Stevie replied.
"Bass? Really?" Ally laughed.
"Yeah." Stevie said indignantly. "What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing." Ally replied. "I just didn't have you pegged as a bass player. Do you sing? Can you sing?"
"No, and yes."
"Okay, what's your pitch?"
"I'm a soprano." Stevie said.
"That'll work, I'm an alto." Ally replied, getting lost in the conversation, forgetting she was talking to THE Stevie Boebi.
"Are you sure you don't just want me to write it and you play and sing it with me? I'm sure you have better things to do."
"No, I'm doing it with you." Stevie said firmly. "When should I come over?"
"Uh," Ally said, taken aback. "I'm free Friday night?"
"Sorry, no can do. I'm at a party. How about Sunday?"
"I guess that's okay." Ally said.
"Here's my number- but, um, don't, like, text me unless its, like, an emergency, yeah?" Stevie said, scrawling her phone number on Ally's hand.
"Oh…kay…" Ally replied.
"See you then!" Stevie said, walking over to her friends, leaving Ally awestruck.
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"Ew." Mona said to Stevie. "We're you just talking to Ari?"
"Her name is Ally— uh, I was just telling her that she had to do the project herself. Mr. Allan thought it was a good idea to pair US together."
"Ew." Mona replied.
"That's what I thought." Stevie lied, feeling terrible.