16: YOU CAN'T BE RIGHT WHEN I'M WRONG, THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS

« wow, so the bible is actually a trilogy? and the book of mormon is like the return of the jedi? i'm interested! »

"IT'S ALMOST Christmas!" Toby sings. "It's almost Christmas! It's almost –"

"Christmas, yes, we know," Lydia rolls her eyes. "God, are you always this insufferable during the festive season?"

"I'm not insufferable," Toby objects. "I'm just happy!"

"They're the same thing for Lydia," Allison informs him, earning a hard slap on the arm from Lydia herself.

"Says you," Lydia sniffs. "Anyway. I was actually going to be nice and tell you something that I think might make the two of you excited. Well, Toby will be excited, anyway."

"It's not hard to get Toby excited," Allison points out dryly.

"What I was going to say was," Lydia begins to dig through her locker, which the three of them are standing by, Allison because her locker is next to Lydia's, and Toby because he's waiting for Daniel to finish whatever sporty thing he's up to now and decided to come and say hello (read: repeat "It's almost Christmas!" in a consistently and sickeningly enthusiastic tone).

"I may have an extra Christmas present for the two of you." Lydia brings out an envelope and hands it to Toby, who only stares at it solemnly.

When he notices the two girls looking at him expectantly, he says: "What?"

"Aren't you going to open it?" Allison asks impatiently.

"Lydia said it was a Christmas present!" Toby points out in protest. "It's not Christmas yet!"

Lydia rolls her eyes. "Consider it an early one, then," she appeases.

Toby looks dubious. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. This isn't your proper one. Open the damn envelope."

Toby does so, and gasps in a way that Allison knows means only one thing. She groans and gives Lydia a supremely unimpressed look.

"Really?"

"You don't even know what it is yet!"

"Oh, I really do," Allison says grimly. "There can only be one thing in that envelope. And that is –"

"Tickets!" Toby finishes, eyes bright. "To The Book of Mormon! Lydia!"

Before Lydia even knows what's happening, she's being enveloped into a stifling hug, Toby's tall frame practically swallowing hers up. Allison can just make out the expression on her face, shock melting away into quiet, pleasant surprise, her lips curving up into a tiny smile as she brings her hands to rest on Toby's hands. Allison rolls her eyes, slightly amused at how caught off-guard her best friend can be by physical contact that isn't necessary or asked for, but just is. Lydia's only really ever been that affectionate with Allison, and even then, barely ever in public, nothing further than a squeezing of hands or a smile, a real smile, a real Lydia Huntington smile – probably the only one that can make Allison feel warmer than if she'd sat by an open fire on a day in the middle of the darkest days of January.

Lydia's smiling it now, as Toby draws back; just slightly, but Allison's heart lifts slightly. Toby's probably the first person other than Allison herself to have hugged her probably in at least a week. She can tell it means more to Lydia than the girl will ever admit.

"This is probably the best Christmas present I've gotten in, like, three years," Toby informs her gravely, hands still placed gently around her waist.

Lydia laughs, gently, her own hands fisted in Toby's soft plaid shirt. "I'm glad," she says, and maybe it's meant to sound sarcastic, but the slight hitch in her voice tells Allison that Lydia's words are sincere.

"I would thank you," Allison sighs as Lydia pulls away from Toby, "but..." she trails off and looks at him. "I think you've just opened me up to a whole lot of –"

 "Allison!" Toby looks insulted.

"What?" she asks innocently. "I was just saying..."

"The Book of Mormon is so great! Honestly, you're going to love it –"

"Wait. You've already seen it?" Lydia is frowning.

"Don't worry," Allison says in an attempt to ease her troubles. "Toby's seen pretty much every musical under the sun. How did you know this one was on our list, anyway?"

"Educated guess?" Lydia replies, beginning to take books that she needs for tonight's homework and pile them into her bag. "Dad won them at work, or something, and he gave them to me. I thought you'd like them. Or Toby would."

"I do!" Toby chirps. "Seriously, I do! I haven't seen The Book of Mormon live in ages! And it's so awesome –"

"Is Toby talking about musicals again?"

Allison almost falls into her the locker beside Lydia's in surprise, not expecting Daniel's voice to resound from so close behind her. "Daniel!" she says in surprise, before catching Lydia's raised eyebrows and clearing her throat. "I mean, yes. Hi. Uh, yes. He's talking about musicals? Please save us."

So maybe the whole being able to string a coherent sentence together in Daniel's presence is a work in progress. Whatever. She totally does not need Lydia's judgement right now.

"Daniel!" Toby cries, sounding far too much like a small child, rather than a teenager turning eighteen in a matter of days. "Lydia got us tickets to Book of Mormon!"

"Us?"

"Me and Allison! Tickets! To Book of Mormon!"

"Toby," Daniel says patiently. "You've already seen Book of Mormon. Four times."

"I know! Now I can see it five times!"

"Okay, buddy, we're leaving now," Daniel sighs, making a face at Allison that causes her to have to stifle a laugh.

"Wait!" Toby holds out one ticket to Allison. "Don't lose it," he tells her gravely.

"I won't," she says slowly. "It's okay, Toby."

"I'm trusting you!" he calls as Daniel begins to steer him down the hallway towards the door, waving goodbye to her and Lydia as he does so. "They're for next week, so be ready, Allison! Thanks again, Lydia! See you guys, tomorrow!"

"Bye, Toby," the two of them chime in unison. Allison rolls her eyes, but Lydia has a fond smile playing at her lips.

"He's something," she sighs, punctuating the statement with a clang of her locker door shutting.

"A five year-old is what he is," Allison snorts. "I can't believe his birthday is next week."

"You know his birthday?" Lydia smirks, and Allison groans.

"Lord, will it ever end?" she says in mock distress to the heavens. "What have I done to deserve this?"

"You let me make you sit with me at lunch two weeks into high school?"

"You and about fifty other people," Allison thinks back on it.  "Jesus God, you were even popular then," she mutters.

Lydia smirks. "What can I say? A leopard never changes its spots."

"Yeah, whatever," Allison rolls her eyes. "Whatcha wanna do now? I don't have swim tonight."

Lydia thinks about it for a surprisingly long time. Finally, she says, "I have an idea."

Allison lets her drag her out without so much as an explanation. When it comes to Lydia Huntington, things become clear eventually.

✦

"I didn't even know there was one of these in town," Allison says, staring at the funfair, a blur of whizzing lights and happy shouts.

"There wasn't until today," Lydia nods at the large sign near the gates, which announces that the funfair is in town from the thirteenth of December until the end of the month.

Allison looks at the sign, then at Lydia, who seems to be shifting slightly nervously where she stands.

"What do you think?" she asks, a little hesitantly. "I mean, I haven't been to one of these since, like, grade school, and I know you used to say how much you liked carousels and stuff but I don't know, I mean, we can go if you like –"

"Lydia," Allison doesn't even think she can be heard over the funfair in front of them, so instead, she moves closer, taking Lydia's hand and beginning to brush her thumb gently over the back of it. "Can we hurry up? Because I, uh...I really wanna go on the carousel."

Lydia blinks, before smiling slowly, her real Lydia Huntington smile, and Allison smiles too.

"Race ya."

"Lydia Huntington running? Is this real life?"

"Shut up, Allison!"

"Okay, race you, but remember who's on the swim team and who's a feeble wimpy nerd who reads books about Fermat's Last Theorem –"

"It is fucking on, Allison Reed."

✦

So maybe Allison planned on letting Lydia get to the carousel first, just because she's super nice – but maybe she isn't so nice after all, because once the carousel is in sight, all plans to be gracious fly completely out of the metaphorical window, and Allison doesn't care much that she's being a complete kid, hopping onto it and taking ages to pick the horse she likes the best.

She goes for the one with Dasher printed in what's probably meant to be fancy lettering onto the collar that's painted on the side, and Lydia, naturally, picks the large carriage that's right behind it, not hesitating to put her feet up as soon as she's inside. Allison turns round to roll her eyes at her, but Lydia only shrugs in a "what can I say?" fashion.

"A carriage for a queen," she says lightly, pretending to inspect her nails.

"Right," Allison snorts, just before loud, blaring music starts to play and the carousel stutters into life. She can't keep a smile from curving her lips upwards as they begin to speed up, and she grips the pole holding Dasher in place tighter than she needs to, letting her eyes squeeze shut.

Lydia was right about Allison loving carousels – of course she was – even though Allison is pretty sure the last time she brought it up was at least a year ago. Before she moved with her mother to Manhattan, there was always a carousel in the mall back in Brooklyn. Carousels made her mom dizzy, but her dad was always up for going on a ride with her – more than one, as many as she wanted to while her mom went for the groceries. Allison is pretty sure it's the only memory of Brooklyn and what it was like before her parents' divorce that's properly stored in her head, pristine and perfect. Her father would ride the horse called Arrow and she would get on the one next to it, Phillip II. And they would just ride it. The first time she'd always close her eyes, but the second time she'd leave them open – let them stream as she watched the mall whizz by, all the stores blend together in one eruption of colour.

Allison opens her eyes now – lets the biting December wind whip the tears from her eyes, lets herself forget which way is right and which way is left, and she thinks about carousels and how she really likes them.

The ride begins to slow, and the shapes on the fairground begin to define themselves once more, sort themselves into their own individual forms. She chances a look at Lydia, who doesn't look nearly as exhilarated as Allison feels, and realises with a jolt that Lydia suggested the carousel for her. Because Allison likes it. And she remembered that Allison likes carousels.

"Wanna go again?" Lydia asks, and Allison feels a rush of affection for her, this girl who understood quantum entanglement and the Copenhagen Interpretation by the fall of their sophomore year and only drinks vanilla lattes and owns at least fifty pairs of high heels and has the entire student body in the palm of her hand, who pretends she's a complete bitch but really isn't, who knows pretty much everything there is to know about Allison and who has about a thousand different sides to her and only shows most people one, but shows Allison all of them.

"No," Allison says, with a grin, snatching Lydia's wrist and dragging her down the steps towards the food stands, "but I do wanna get cotton candy."

"Since when do you like cotton candy?" Lydia queries, but there's a matching grin on her face, and she doesn't stop walking.

"Since when do you like carousels?" Allison shoots back with a smirk. "C'mon. Maybe you can convince me to like it this time."

Lydia shakes her head, but buys enough for them to share. She offers some to Allison, who tries to swallow the bite without grimacing, but she doesn't think it really works, because Lydia's sniggering.

"Shut up," she swats her arm. "At least I won't be throwing anything up when we come off the rollercoaster."

"Oh, come on, like the rollercoaster's going to be bad enough to make me throw up," Lydia rolls her eyes.

"Don't be so confident," Allison warns gravely. "You never know."

"I think I do, Allison," Lydia sniffs. "I haven't thrown up since I got food poisoning in the sixth grade. A funfair rollercoaster is not going to mar my track record."

✦

"I think I'm gonna hurl," Lydia looks slightly green, and Allison doesn't know if that's just the lights from the fair reflecting onto her face, but she's not really prepared to take any chances.

"Oo-kay," she wraps an arm around Lydia's waist. "Toilets or bushes?"

"Bushes, God, I don't need anyone else hearing me retch," Lydia manages, and Allison thinks that her best friend is probably the only person on earth who even considers these things when they're about to puke up their lunch.

"Gotcha," she says anyway, steering Lydia towards a clump of straggly weeds near the fence of the grounds.

Lydia doubles over, bracing two hands on her knees, and Allison resists the urge to say I fucking told you so. Instead, because she's an amazing best friend, she rubs Lydia's back and tries to say vaguely encouraging things without really looking anywhere in the direction of the ground, until she gets batted away by Lydia herself, who tells her to fuck off, Allison in between retching.

Yeah, she totally loves Lydia Huntington.

✦

"Well, at least we managed all the rides before you, uh, you know," Allison is trying to be positive as she drives the two of them back to Lydia's, in Lydia's car, because Lydia is not in the mood to drive.

"I can't believe that fucking rollercoaster actually made me hurl," Lydia mutters bitterly. "I can't believe you were right."

"Hey! For the record, I'm right a lot of times, Huntington," Allison declares.

"Yeah, but not when I'm wrong. That's not how it works."

Lydia is in a foul mood, something made evident by the fact that she's forming her sentences like a bratty six year-old. Allison rolls her eyes, not without a little fondness, and parks the car in front of Lydia's apartment block.

"Come on," she switches off the engine, and is going to open the door on her side, when she notices Lydia is still slumped in her seat.

"Lydia?" she prods, then sighs. "Am I going to have to drag you out the damn car?"

Turns out the answer is yes, because Allison practically hauls Lydia into the elevator and presses the top button for the penthouse.

"You're not even drunk," she informs Lydia as they ascend. "Pull yourself together."

Lydia straightens up slightly in response, but heads straight for the bathroom once they're inside. Allison kicks off her shoes, turning on the lights as she goes.

Lydia's been home alone for the past three days, because her parents are on a business trip. It's times like these that Allison invites herself over as often as possible. She knows that Lydia would never admit it, but she prefers the company. Allison doesn't blame her. The idea of being alone in a giant penthouse and rooms that are far too big for one person is simultaneously incredibly sad and incredibly terrifying. Allison likes Lydia's parents just fine, but she thinks sometimes they forget that Lydia needs them, just like any kid needs their mom and dad. Lydia carries herself so much like an adult that it's all too easy to do.

Lydia's still in the bathroom even by the time Allison's lying on the bed in suitable sleep attire, staring at the ceiling. She comes out eventually, though, looking a lot better than she did in the car, and flopping next to her after snatching a book from the bedside table.

"Feel better?" Allison asks, watching her flip to the page she was on.

"Mhm," Lydia nods, yawning. "Tired, though. Who knew funfairs were so much effort?"

"Fun is effort," Allison mumbles. "Therefore, funfairs are also effort."

"What astounding logic you use, Allison," she teases in response, flipping the page of the book.

"Haven't you already read that?" Allison studies the cover of the book and changes the subject, not able to think up a decent response to Lydia's comment.

"I like Lord of the Rings," Lydia says in response. "It's good.  Besides, I don't have the energy for new reading material right now."

"Then sleep," Allison manages, tucking her head under Lydia's arm and already feeling herself begin to follow her own advice.

"I will in a bit," Lydia hums in response, hand already beginning to come down and play with Allison's hair. "You go first."

"You should use bookmarks," Allison chastises with not much vigour. She says it to Lydia at least twice a week, anyway. "Pages don't like being folded."

"Oh, I'm assuming you asked them and got their opinion on the matter?"

"Mhm," Allison yawns, shifting slightly to rest her head more on Lydia. "They – they specifically said, we want use Lydia to use bookmarks."

"Okay, Allison," Lydia concedes in a highly amused tone of voice. "You sleep now."

Allison plans on staying awake at least until Lydia puts away her book, but her eyes have other ideas, and so does the rest of her body. "Night," she thinks her lips form, and maybe Lydia replies in kind, but Allison has already fallen asleep if she does.

✦

When Allison wakes up, Lydia is sitting cross-legged in the armchair across from her bed, reading another book; this time, it's Othello.

"There's coffee in the pot," she informs Allison without looking up.

"I hate coffee."

"One of these days you'll see the light. I didn't make breakfast because I thought you might like to do the honours."

"You didn't make breakfast because you suck at making breakfast," Allison mumbles, getting up. She is rewarded with a cushion to the head.

✦

Toby's birthday is on the following Tuesday. Naturally, it's not exactly the best day to have a birthday on, since Tuesdays are the days that serve to remind you that the week is well and truly starting and no, Monday was not just a bad dream.  Usually, the only person who is genuinely content on a Tuesday is, of course, Toby, but Allison puts on a smile specially for him, because she figures if there's one day of the year she should do that for Toby Martin's birthday, it's his birthday.

"Happy birthday," she says as soon as she sees him, the phrase starting out at least valiantly attempting to be enthusiastic but ending pretty lacklustre.

"Thanks, Allison!" Toby beams.

"How's it feel being a legal adult?" she asks dryly, fishing into her bag for his present.

"Not very different to how I felt when I wasn't a legal adult," Toby tells her in a conspiratorial tone of voice. "But hey, it'll be cool to say I'm eighteen, right?"

"Right," Allison says, bringing out a wrapped package and holding it out to him. "Happy birthday, then."

"Oh my God, is this for me?" Toby exclaims, seemingly beside himself with excitement.

"No, it's for the other person I know whose birthday is today," Allison snorts. "Here, take it."

Toby doesn't. Instead, he throws himself at Allison with almost enough force to knock her over, arms wrapping around her tightly in an embrace that practically steals the breath from her lungs.

"Thank you," he murmurs contentedly, just tall enough to rest his chin on her head. "Thank you so much."

Allison exhales slowly before returning the hug, letting her hands rest on the small of his back. She thinks it's weird, how surprised he sounded, as though he never got birthday presents, or something. "You're welcome, Toby," she says into his shirt. "But I'm kind of suffocating."

"Oh!" he draws back immediately, and this time takes the present that Allison holds out to him again. "Sorry."

He halts and looks down at the present briefly, before announcing, "I'm gonna open this later."

"Okay," Allison nods, amused by how seriously he's taking the whole thing. "Text me when you do, tell me if you like it."

"I'm sure I will!" he says, smiling widely. "This is awesome. Thanks, Allie."

She tells him it's okay and only realises once he's bounded off that she forgot to tell him not to call her Allie.

 ✦

"So I don't know what you told Lydia, exactly, but I really appreciate it," Emmett mentions as they file into English.

"What?" Allison plays dumb, but Emmett doesn't buy it, only rolling his eyes.

"You know what," he retorts. "Anyway, whatever you said, thanks. I, uh – well, I mean, um, she doesn't, uh – you know. Anymore.  And that makes her a lot easier to work with. And generally speaking, just communicate with, overall, but, uh, what I mean is, uh, thanks."

 Allison smiles. "Your very articulate expression of gratitude is accepted," she teases.

"Whatever," Emmett pokes her shoulder. "I was just saying. You know what I meant, anyway."

"Yeah," she replies, eyes straying to Lydia, who seems somehow engrossed in methodically packing and unpacking her bag. "I think I do."

Ms. Blake chooses that moment to come into the classroom, heels click-clacking on the linoleum.

"Morning, class!  First off, happy birthday to Toby," she says, nodding to the boy in question, who beams at her in response.

"Thanks, Ms. Blake!" he chirps. Allison thinks she catches the hints of a fond smile playing at her teacher's lips, but then again, it was probably just a trick of the light.

"Secondly, after having a look at the reviews that all of you handed in of your projects, it's clear to me that pretty much all of you aren't even close to finishing, yet, so I'm extending the deadline. So, your new deadline is January 31st."

She turns to scrawl the date on the board, underlining it three times. "Write this in your diaries. Tattoo it on your arms. Imprint it in your brains. Because if your project isn't in by that date, well, I can tell you right now your grade definitely isn't going to be all that great."

Ms. Blake pauses, surveying the room, as though carefully analysing who she thinks is likely to obey her commands and who's almost guaranteed a shitty grade already. After a few moments, she moves away and rubs the date off the board, seemingly satisfied with her analysis.

"Please don't tattoo it on your arms," she says lightly. "I have the feeling your parents wouldn't be all too happy about it. Now, everyone get out your copies of Crime and Punishment. Miss Huntington, if you could kindly remind me as to what page we were on?"

✦

"January 31st," Toby says to Allison, setting his lunch tray down next to Lydia's. "That's enough time, right?"

Allison frowns in thought. "How many have we got left to watch?"

"Uh..." Toby begins to count them on his fingers. "After Book of Mormon? Fourteen, I think."

"Jesus," she mutters under her breath. Opposite her, Lydia is clearly struggling not to laugh. Allison glares at her.

"We can watch fourteen by then," Allison decides. "We've got over a month."

"Yeah," Toby nods, smiling widely. "We can do that."

"What about you, Lydia?" Allison says, mostly to wipe the smug smile off her friend's face. "How's your project going?"

Allison was expecting a slightly flustered reaction from Lydia, but definitely not to see a faint blush begin to dust her cheeks. A smile begins to slip onto her lips.

"It's going fine, thank you, Allison," Lydia replies, not looking at either her or Toby and instead stabbing her fork into her chicken with perhaps a little more force than required.

"Good," Allison hums, resolving to examine further the extent of Lydia and Emmett's relations at a later date. "Good."

"Good?" Toby repeats uncertainly around a mouthful of his own chicken, clearly completely oblivious to the  unspoken exchange between Allison and Lydia.

"It is very good," Allison nods, patting Toby on the back, but shooting Lydia a look as she does so. "Really good."

✦

18.37, Toby Martin: ALLISON

18.39, Allison Reed: Yeah?

18.39, Toby Martin: YOUR PRESENT

18.39, Allison Reed: Is it okay?

18.40, Toby Martin: NO

18.40, Toby Martin: IT'S AMAZING

18.41, Allison Reed: You like it, then?

18.41, Toby Martin: i loVE IT

18.41, Toby Martin: thank you so much i am keeping it forever and ever <333

18.42, Allison Reed: And ever? You sure about that?

18.42, Toby Martin: YES

18.42, Toby Martin: thank you :)

18.42, Allison Reed: Always a pleasure, Toby.

18.43, Allison Reed: Happy birthday.

18.44, Allison Reed: :)

✦

"No, definitely the purple one," Lydia confirms, her voice slightly fuzzy over the Skype connection. "It's classier. Better for a theatre."

"Hm, but I like the blue," Allison casts a forlorn glance to the aforementioned blue dress spread on her bed, right by the one that Lydia favours.

"Well, you look good in both," Lydia reasons. "I just think the purple is better. And when have I ever given you bad fashion advice?"

"Okay, purple it is," Allison lifts the one they've chosen off the bed, running her fingers through the shimmery fabric. "It's nice," she comments.

"Obviously it's nice, I gave it to you," Lydia snorts.

Allison thinks. "Oh yeah," she says, remembering her sixteenth birthday. "You did."

"You seem pretty concerned about what to wear," Lydia comments slyly. "Sure this isn't a –"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence, or I swear to God I will –"

"I'm just saying! By normal standards, this is totally a date. He's even coming to pick you up. And you're wearing a dress. And both of you are going to the theatre. Together. It is literally a date."

"Except we're going for research on our English project," Allison points out, rolling her eyes. "And we're seeing The Book of Mormon, which I'm pretty sure doesn't exactly count as romantic. And of course there's the minor detail that we're friends. Just friends. And nothing else."

 "Right," Lydia sighs. "There's that. I forget, sometimes, with all the –"

 "Lydia –"

 "– that you two have going on. I'm just saying!"

Allison frowns. "Bad connection, sorry, bye," she says before disconnecting the line. Three seconds later, her phone buzzes with a text from Lydia reading Real mature, Allison. Real mature. Whatever. Allison is not in need of Lydia's judgement right now; she has to mentally prepare herself for the inevitable disaster which is going to see another Broadway show live with Toby Martin.

✦

"What do you think so far?" Toby asks eagerly, and she can just make out the wide smile on his face in the dim light of the foyer.

"Well," Allison says carefully, sipping at her Diet Coke. "It's not what I was expecting."

"You like it, though," he responds, and it doesn't sound like a question at all, which makes Allison raise her eyebrows.

"And how would you know?"

"I heard you laughing at the jokes," Toby says triumphantly. "You laughed at like, seven of them."

Out of context, laughing seven times may seem excessive, but they're watching The Book of Mormon, so whilst Allison laughed seven times, the rest of the audience gave a collective laugh at least twenty, and Toby laughed around forty times, because he's Toby.

"Yeah, well," Allison shrugs, attempting to appear nonchalant. "It's pretty funny."

"It is," Toby agrees, smile growing in magnitude. "I love it."

"What's new," Allison mutters, because really, it's a musical, of course Toby loves it. 

______________________________________________________________

a/n: i've been trying hard to write speedily because i'm still like over 4k words behind on nanowrimo plz dont be alarmed if i'm churning these chapters out at an unusually quick rate

is it just me who feels like there is a huge amount of unresolved sexual tension between allison and lydia 

- mariam