A/N; This was kind of inspired by Pink's "True Love". And a little bit by "10 things I hate about you."

Sort of I think.

Maybe.

It was supposed to be a one-shot but it will be a two-shot or maybe a three-shot because it's so freaking long.

Next part will be up shortly.

Let me know what you think (=

It was tradition. She was not going to miss out because they had just broken up. Like a few days before.

Every year, their class spent the last weekend before the school start at Kira's lake house. Getting drunk, making out, enjoying the warm summer night as if there were no worries in the world.

This year, she was driving up there with Trish, knowing that she wouldn't see much of her short best friend as the Latina would most likely be preoccupied sucking face with her newest ginger boyfriend.

No big deal, she was used to it. She would find other ways to occupy her time. After all, all their friends would be there.

The size of Kira's beach house never seized to amaze her. She guessed she shouldn't be surprised. Her dad did own a record company. And to be fair, Kira did take any opportunity to remind them that that was the case.

They were running a couple of hours late, as Trish as per usual had shown up late.

They arrived, the outside yard already filled with her classmates, the music blasting and it seemed like Kira's older brother had yet again been very generous with the alcohol.

What else was new.

It also seemed like most of them had already had quite a taste of said alcohol.

What else was new.

She was well aware that she would run into him, it was inevitable. And she knew it would be awkward to see him. She was expecting that.

She greeted a few friends, some of them giving her sympathetic looks as they had heard about the break-up. She just nodded. She really wasn't that upset about it. Relief was more like it.

She walked towards the entrance of the house, looking for Kira and to settle her things inside when she saw him, his familiar set of hair facing her as his face was attached to someone else's mouth.

Figures.

She had kind of expected that, too.

He broke away, almost as if he could feel her presence, turning around, his eyes meeting hers as she processed who he had just finsihed kissing.

She may have been expecting awkwardness, but she had not expected for him to be blatantly making out with...Kira.

She was halfway frozen in shock, not so much by his actions as by hers.

"Ally."

She could tell that he made a conscious effort to sound remorseful but failed miserably.

She somehow found her voice.

"Nice to see that you waited until we had been broken up for, I don't know, a week before sucking face with one of my best friends." She was proud. She sounded cool, collected.

He did have the decency to look slightly ashamed, even if it only lasted for a few seconds.

She turned to her friend. "And you, I don't even know what to say."

Kira just shrugged.

"Dont talk to me ever again. With friends like you, who needs enemies?" Not as cool and collected anymore.

"Fine with me. You're a little boring for my taste anyways. Maybe if you were a bit more fun, you guys wouldn't have broken up in the first place. I'm assuming you know you won't be staying here tonight."

She turned to walk away, feeling the first few tears burning behind her eye lids.

In less than a week, she had lost both her long-term boyfriend and one of her best friends.

She had made it half-way through the backyard, unsure of where she was heading, when Kira's voice made her turn back around.

"And Ally? Who said we waited until you guys broke up?"', a smirk soon forming on both their faces as realization hit her.

She was more disgusted than mad.

She had heard somewhere that the opposite of love is not hate but indifference.

That was exactly what she felt.

Indifference.

Or at least what she wanted to feel as she was fighting back her tears.

She hadmwasted a year and a half of her life on that guy. And many more years on that girl.

She wasn't going to waste any more of her time to feel any type of emotion towards either of them.

She looked around and realized that Trish was already gone.

Of fucking course.

She turned, needing to get out of there, running into a human brick-wall.

Someone she definitely was not indifferent to.

Austin.

Moon.

Sometimes she used his name as a curse. Quite often, actually.

Recent developments had advanced Austin's position on her shit list, as he was now only the third-to-last person she wanted to see, just right above her ex-friend and ex-boyfriend, in descending order.

To say that they didn't get along would be an understatement. She couldn't recall one single time over the last few years that they had been in the same place for more than five minutes and not gotten into an argument.

He bothered her to no end. Teased her, corrected her, made fun of her. She wasn't exactly innocent, though, as soft gladly returned the favor.

He confused her, as he had the unique ability to annoy the crap out of her and turn her on all in one. She wanted to yell at him, slap him, yet have him fuck her hard up against a wall. Or up against anything else, for that matter. And then hit him again.

He was talented, indeed.

So, he was hot, but God did he know it.

She was attracted to charm, playfulness, charisma... not self-righteous cockiness.

Apparently, though, judging by her latest choice of boyfriend, she was also attracted to assholes.

So maybe Austin stood a chance, after all.

She mumbled a low "Sorry" before darting off towards the lake.

...

She settled on a small wooden bridge deck expanding out into the water. It was calm, a breathtakingly beautiful contradiction to her current internal state.

She was wiping some stray tears off of her face, inadvertently producing more as her anger increased substantially with each drop.

She wasn't sad.

She was becoming fucking furious.

So much for indifference.

She wanted to punch something, anything, anyone.

As if right on cue, she felt a light tap on her shoulder.

Courtesy of her blond nightmare.

Of course.

It seemed as if the universe was having an impromptu boxing match and she was the defenseless punching bag.

"You came to torture me some more?"

The look in his eyes resembled hurt. As if he was able to feel any real emotions.

'I wanted to make sure you were ok'. His voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

She couldn't detect anything fake in him, it was almost as if he genuinely cared. He was either a good actor or a surprisingly kind-hearted dickhead. Her money, her college fund, her life-savings, was on the first alternative. But the fact that he was the first one to come check on her, and that her 'friends' were all missing in action, wasn't lost on her.

He noticed the now almost dried trails of tears down her cheeks. It made him feel...feelings. And not the good kind.

The punch-a-wall or her ex-boyfriend's face-kind.

She accepted the beer can he held out for her, opening it up with a loud pop and taking a large sip before looking at him as he was doing the same.

He stood there for a minute, unlike most times at a loss for words, his hands nonchalantly hanging out of his pockets, his facial expression one of confusion as if he wasn't sure of what to do next.

She looked at him, really looked at him. She knew he was handsome, she had never tried to deny that. Attractive, absolutely, but tonight, did he look...sexy?

His hair was falling into his eyes, his brown pools meeting hers.

Why on earth did she want to touch him? She usually hated every single stupid word he said and sometimes she wanted to slap him in his whole face. Repeatedly.

But tonight, her hands were aching for a different reason, she had to clench her fingers to prevent herself from getting up and running them through his messy hair. She wanted to slap him, but at the same hug him and wrap her arms around his neck.

"I'm...sorry...?"

"Don't start. I know you're probably enjoy seeing me suffer."

"I know it may be hard to believe, but I am sorry you're upset".

She shrugged."I'm not, though, more like...I don't know...I lost time, you know?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I get it. Time is one of the few things you can't buy."

She gave him a sarcastic smile. "A little too deep for Saturday night, don't you think?"

"Doesn't mean it isn't true". Did he look hurt?

She shrugged. "I guess."

"Well, plenty of other fish in the sea and all of that". He was trying to sound chipper but it sounded fake.

"You want some bread with all that cheese?" Yes, he did look hurt. What was with him? Usually, he would come up with some witty, rude response. Appearently not tonight.

"Ok, I'll just keep quiet as you'll make fun of everything I say anyways".

She actually felt bad. Weird. Since when did she care about his feelings? He sure as hell didn't care about hers. At least not usually.

"You can sit down, you know".

To her disbelief, he didn't argue but quickly complied.

She couldn't remember the last time they had agreed on anything.

She kicked off her shoes, and they spent the next half hour sitting on the small dock, a small space in between them, their legs dangling off and hers occasionally making contact with the cooling surface of the still water below, creating small ripples that cascaded throughout the water reflection of the darkening, early-evening sky.

It was peaceful, beautiful, surprisingly quiet considering the rather large number of teenagers temporarily residing in the area.

He laid down on the small bridge, flat on his back, his shirt raising and giving her a sneak peek of his defined abs and hips, a faint but visible happy trail and a distinct v-shape.

She was appalled at the fact that she wanted to run her tongue over it, trace the outlines with her lips.

Yep, he was definitely sexy tonight.

And suddenly she was in a much better mood. And oddly grateful for the unwanted company.

"I think this is the first time we are alone since middle school?"

He nodded in agreement. "Probably..."

A few more minutes of silence passed, both of them thinking back to an easier time when they had been friends and had actually gotten along. She realized she missed it.

He had been her first crush. It may have been innocent, some may say insignificant, but to her it had been anything but and she still remembered it as if it was yesterday.

The daydreams, the juvenile thoughts of how they would get married and live happy ever after.

The times when a boy and a girl could be just friends without being overwhelmed by sexual tension.

She needed to distract herself from her thoughts.

"Maybe you should get back? I saw that girl, your latest date, Brooke whatever, I'm sure she's waiting for you".

"We're not dating." He sat back up.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry, just hooking up or whatever, I know, I know, same story, different girl."

"I don't know if I should be flattered or disturbed that you know so much about my love life".

"Believe me, it's not by choice. People talk". She heard rumors about him on a daily basis. "Sex God" was the most common description going around.

"They talk about you, too, you know".

"I'm sure, but I'm not the one who has slept with half the girls at school'.

"That would be insanely hot." He paused for a second, as if he was picturing it. "But I hate to break it to you, neither have I. Despite popular belief, I'm not a man whore".

"Whatever, Casanova. Fine, you're not a whore, just a loyal subscriber to the hump-and-dump policy."

He looked appalled. "The what? No. I don't hump nearly as much as you seem to think, and as far as dumping goes, I never make any promises. They're big girls. They know what they're getting themselves into. Or should I say, what's getting into them".

He laughed at his own joke.

Such a dork.

And she knew the girls were anything but "big".

"Whatever".

Her nonchalance bothered him. He wasn't really sure why. Well, he knew why, but...

"I can count my hook-ups on one hand". He sounded a little too defensive.

She actually snorted. "Yeah, if your hand had a few extra fingers".

He had to laugh. "What can I say, I like sex. People generally like things they're good at."

He graced her with his signature smirk, the smirk that she wanted to punch off of his face while running her hands all over his body.

"Are you always this..."

"Hot? Afraid so."

"Sexual?"

"No, you bring out the best side in me." She brought out other things in him, too. Like hard-ons that she wouldn't believe.

"Cocky bastard".

"I prefer confident. Besides, you shouldn't believe everything you hear" he grinned, "'cause if I did, I would be under the impression that you're a boring goody two shoes, who doesn't know how to have a good time and look at you right now, very fun". He nodded towards the beer can in her hand. "And I would also believe that Elliot dumped you, when we both know that it's clear that you finally got your judgement back and let go of his sorry ass."

That's what he was telling people? She was pissed. He had begged her to take him back.

"Why were you ever with that guy anyways?" He sounded genuinely curious.

"What is this, a freakinginterview? My turn to ask questions. How come you're always single? Wait, Let me guess, some sort of "commitment" issues."

"I don't have commitment issues". He actually looked offended.

"Then what is it?"

"Nothing, I just..."

"What?"

He hesitated. "You're going to laugh at me".

"I always laugh at you."

"Trust me, I know."

"So..."

"I never felt that something special, you know, a connection or whatever. Sparks, I guess."

She was stunned. Was he fucking serious?

Was he really a ten year old girl or the undercover author of bad romance novels?

Maybe just a playboy with a sensitive heart.

How cliche.

Too cliche.

She shrugged. "I guess you'll have to keep on looking. Let's not pretend that your are unaware of the fact that you can have any girl you want".

"Does that include you?"

The words echoed throughout the quiet lake. Ok, maybe not really. Perhaps they were just echoing in her head, unavoidably speeding up her pulse.

She remained quiet, too shocked to know what to say.

"I..." his voice trailed off, not sure of how to continue.

"You have never asked me out", her voice spiked with uncertainty.

"You're never single long enough to give me a fucking chance", exasperation evident in his voice.

Suddenly he seemed nervous, as if he had said too much , anxiously running his hands through his hair as their eyes interlocked.

Hers, confused.

His, smoldering, liquid caramel.

Bedroom eyes.

Shit.

He moved closer, almost as if by instinct, his nose almost touching hers.

"Maybe we should get going?" Why was her voice shaking?

"I can't think of another place I'll rather be."

Funny. Neither could she.

What was wrong with her? Why did she suddenly feel short on air?

He was in her personal space and she didn't hate it.

Not even close.

Not even a little.

Not even at all.

"Well, uhm...thanks for cheering me up."

He shook his head. "I just don't get it."

"Get what?"

"Elliot. I don't understand him".

"I guess that makes two of us".

He was quiet for a minute and she almost thought that the conversation was over.

"How do you cheat on someone who's perfect?"

Her heart skipped a beat. "Believe me, I'm not perfect."

"To me you kind of are".

Wowza. Head rush.

What was this? This effect he had on her?

The urge to climb on top of him completely overtook her. She wanted to straddle him, unzip his pants, stroke him, make him groan, ride him into the sunset until he was screaming her name into the open waters...

She wanted him and she didn't even like him.

And suddenly, there was no space between them as she approached his lips with hers and hesitantly kissed him.

He met hers willingly, gradually deepening the kiss as their tongues introduced themselves to each other. He tasted like beer and something unidentifiable, something unique as he was now tilting his head, gaining better access, kissing her slowly, unhurriedly.

It was as if his mouth had a direct connection to her pussy as every time he moved his tongue, it responded accordingly.

And she felt it.

Fucking sparks.

She broke away.

"Why would you do that?" He looked surprised but far from disapproving.

"I needed to see what all the buzz was about."

"And?", quirking a questioning eyebrow.

"Eh", a slight shrug of her shoulders as she rose and turned away from him, her heart beating out of her chest as she was trying to recover from the best kiss she had ever had.

She left.

Quickly.

Speedingly.

She couldn't believe she had kissed him.

Him.

She was confused, she told herself. Sad over her recent break-up.

Funny thing, though, she hadn't been thinking about Elliot at all and she definitely was not sad. Rather, she had this tingling feeling in her body, like a craving, like she wanted more, more kisses, from...Austin Moon?