20: MADONNA IS JUST WHAT I LOOK FOR IN A MOVIE

« just listen to that – the voice of argentina! we are adored! we are loved! »

"ALLISON!"

"OH MY God," Allison rubs at her eyes sleepily, staring at the person standing on her doorstep with undisguised distaste. "Please tell me I'm dreaming."

"You dream about me?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of a nightmare," she sighs. "What do you want, Toby?"

"I want," Toby says, "to go and see Frozen. With you. And Lydia."

She frowns. "That Disney movie?"

"Yeah!"

"Toby..." Allison pauses to glance at the clock in the hallway. "What have we said about waking up before twelve?"

"But if we don't go now, we'll miss the screening! They show it early for...younger people."

"You mean five year-olds," Allison says bluntly. "No."

She goes to shut the door, but Toby wedges his foot in the doorway to stop her. She can't see his face, but a few seconds later, a muffled, "Ouch," results from the other side.

"Allison," he says from the other side of the door. "Please."

"No."

"Pretty please."

"No."

"Pretty please with cherries on top."

"No."

"Pretty please with Gianni'spizza on top."

"I...still no."

"You don't have anything better to do!" he whines petulantly, and even though she can't see his face, Allison can easily imagine the pout that will be gracing his features.

"How would you know?" she shoots back.

"I know because nothing is better than Disney!"

"Toby. No."

"Allison..."

"No!"

"Please! It's only a couple of hours and we'll take Lydia and I'll let you both say what you like about Anna's hair and the cheesiness and Hans' sideburns and speaking of cheesiness I pinkie promise we can go to Gianni's afterwards."

Allison sighs, not really sure she wants to know who Anna or Hans even are. "Toby, haven't you already seen Frozen? Twice?"

"Third time's the charm!"

"Can't you just take Daniel with you to see it, or something?"

"I did," he says. "The second time I saw it."

Allison is unable to suppress a snort at the mental image of Daniel sitting beside Toby as the boy sings along to songs he'd probably already memorised, and trying to look at least a tiny bit interested.

 "And how did that go?" she asks before she can stop herself, wry amusement seeping into her tone.

"Actually a lot better than I thought it would," Toby's voice has turned thoughtful now, and Allison thinks about how it's slightly ridiculous how they're having a conversation with an almost-shut door between them (Toby's foot is still wedged between the door and the doorway), but she has absolutely no doubt that if she lets Toby in, he will not leave until a) she calls the police (even then, there's a chance he'll stay) or, b) she agrees to see Frozen with him, which is an idea that she's still not really willing to carry through with.

"Is that so?"

"Mhm," she can imagine Toby nodding frantically by now in enthusiasm. "I caught him humming Let It Go last week. And I'm pretty sure he has Love Is An Open Door on his phone."

"That's embarrassing," Allison mutters. There's a silence after that, and it's heavy with expectance. Allison waits it out, willing to see Toby squirm.

Finally, he cracks. "Please please please please please, Allison – !"

"Jesus God," she moves the door slightly, and Toby practically falls inside, all long limbs and lack of balance. "This isn't a yes," she informs him sternly. "I'm just letting you in before someone thinks...weird things."

"Okay."

"Not a yes," she repeats, because these things need hammering in when it comes to Toby. "Definitely not a yes. Still firmly in no territory."

"Okay."

"Good," Allison looks at him closely, trying to make sure her point as hit home, before saying, "Want breakfast?"

✦

"Well, I want to go see it," Lydia announces over yet another pretty beautiful Allison Reed specialty breakfast.

Toby is triumphant. Allison is betrayed.

"I'm sorry, wh –"

"Yeah! See, Allison, Lydia wants to go!"

"Shut up, Toby," Allison scowls, before rounding on Lydia. "Since when do you like Disney movies?" she demands.

Lydia shrugs. "People keep talking about it. I don't like not knowing what people are talking about. It makes me feel...ignorant. Plus," she adds as though it's just occurred to her, "my New Years' Eve party is tomorrow, and I need some mindless entertainment to take my mind off the stress."

"I don't know why you're stressing about it, it's always, like, perfect," Toby manages to mumble around some egg. "Allison, this is amazing."

"Thanks," Allison hums contentedly, but doesn't look at him. She can see Lydia smirking in her peripheral vision.

"How did you know I like sunny side up, anyway?" Toby queries interestedly.

"Uh...lucky guess?" she says, shifting slightly. Lydia's smirk widens. 

Toby smiles, his subscript smile, and Allison feels her fingers tighten round her fork slightly. "What time is the screening?" she manages to say.

"Oh, shoot," Toby's eyes widen. "Like, eleven thirty."

Allison opens her mouth to speak (well, possibly shout, but whatever), but Lydia stops her with a raised brow.

"Toby," Lydia says calmly. "It's twenty past eleven."

"Yeah."

"You haven't even finished your breakfast."

"Right..."

"Both Allison and I are still in our pyjamas."

At this, Toby's cheeks stain a very faint pink, and he shifts his eyes to his plate, as though he'd just noticed Lydia's boy shorts and Allison's tank top and sweatpants. "Yeah," he says, and it comes out a little strangled, so he clears his throat. "Right. That."

Lydia fixes him with a look. "How – exactly – do you plan on arriving to this movie on time?"

"Uh...with speedy changing on your part and probably illegally fast driving on mine?"

Lydia glares. Allison kicks his shin under the table. Toby whimpers.

✦

"See!" Toby whisper-shouts as they enter the theatre. "We didn't miss anything!"

Sadly, Allison thinks to herself, he's right. On the screen, there's an ad running about some kind of new healthy milk, or something. As they make their way up to their seats, all she can see is kids of varying ages, but all under the age of eleven. With their moms. Sometimes dads, but mostly moms.

"How did I get here," Allison mutters to herself, and she thinks it's a pretty decent question. Under no circumstances would she have envisioned herself watching a Disney movie with her two best friends. Ever. Mostly because up until three months ago, she'd probably only said three entire sentences to Toby Martin, and she's pretty sure the topic of all of them was Daniel. Now she's letting him drag her to see a film about a magical snow queen.

Go figure.

Lydia picks the aisle seat, leaving Allison and Toby to squeeze past her. Allison chooses to sit in between the two of them, so that if Toby starts doing something Toby-ish, she'll have Lydia to share a good eye-roll with.

"This is ridiculous," she mutters, half to herself and half to Lydia, as the Disney logo comes up on the screen. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

"Ssh," Lydia retorts from the corner of her mouth. "It's starting."

Allison has never felt more betrayed in her life.

✦

Allison absolutely does not cry at the beginning song with the two sisters. Really, she doesn't.

Lydia does, though.

She looks at her best friend from the corner of her eye and frowns, because Lydia's always cried about as much as she does (i.e. never). Allison briefly considers saying something, but decides it would be altogether a nicer thing to do not to mention it at all. Instead, she moves her hand over the armrest that their two seats share and lets her fingers slip themselves between Lydia's. Then she squeezes.

A few seconds later, Toby starts singing along with the next song (getting about as excited as the onscreen princess about the whole ordeal – the ginger one, that is. The other one, Elsa, seems less enthusiastic about the idea of a party, and Allison already feels like she relates on a spiritual level), and Allison is distracted by it, momentarily moving her eyes from Lydia in favour of fixing the boy next to her with a supremely unimpressed look, but she keeps holding Lydia's hand, and she doesn't let go.

The middle lags slightly, but even Allison has to admit that the snowman (Olaf?) has his moments of hilarity. Anna seems ridiculously like a female version of Toby, which is slightly uncomfortable, but okay. What's even more uncomfortable is that the songs are catchy. Like, really catchy. And she can maybe see why Daniel's got one or two of them on his phone.

She saw the plot twist coming, with Anna saving her sister or whatever, but thinks to herself quietly that it's a nice change, the guy ending up not saving the girl after all. For the few brief moments when Anna's a frozen ice statue, she feels Lydia's grip on her hand tighten, and Toby's already clutching at her other wrist like this is the most tense thing he's seen in his life, and Allison rolls her eyes, because she clearly has bad taste in friends.

"So whaddaya think?" Toby asks when they're walking out, as though it's just another musical they're watching for a project.

Allison says, "I think that I am in need of a Gianni's pepperoni pizza, stat," because it's true, and, actually, it's more of a fact than an opinion.

Toby rolls his eyes, which, talk about role reversal. "About the movie."

She opens her mouth to say something suitably lukewarm that won't get him too excited, but Lydia beats him to it.

"I liked it," she says.

There is a pause. Toby is smiling very, very widely.  

"He's converted you," Allison informs her dryly.

"You liked it, too, Allison," he pokes her arm. "Don't try and deny it."

"It was okay," Allison arches an eyebrow. "But you know what's better?"

"What?"

"Pizza," she says, because she's hungry, damn it. "At Gianni's. Let's go."

Toby mutters something under his breath about how she literally just had breakfast, like, two hours ago, and Lydia rolls her eyes, but they follow her to the subway without much further protest, so she figures they're as hungry as she is, or at least willing to indulge her.

"Allison, do you wanna come back to mine to watch Evita later?" Toby asks as they share a pizza. This time, they've all agreed on pepperoni, and honestly, even though Toby put up a decent fight for the vegetarian supreme, he doesn't really look like he's regretting losing it.

She sighs. "Do we have to? I think I've had my fair share of musical films today."

"Schedule," he replies, as though the one word is enough, which it kind of is.

"Can't we just use Frozen?"

Toby considers it, then shakes head. "It's never actually been done on stage," he explains. "I don't think we can count it."

"Fine," she surrenders. "But you're doing the log solo."

"Okay!" Toby chirps. "It's actually really great, you know, I mean, it's a really awesome story and –"

"Toby," Lydia says sternly from behind a newspaper that she's conjured up from the uncharted depths of her handbag. "No musicals at the table."

Allison can't help but laugh, and Toby smiles. "Sorry," he says.

There's a beat, before Allison takes another slice and asks Lydia: "Why are you reading that, anyway? You're always saying that politicians suck."

"Just because they suck doesn't mean I shouldn't keep up with whatever sucky things they're doing now," Lydia replies. "I like to keep abreast of my ignorance."

"Was that an Arthur Miller quote?" Toby asks around a mouthful of pizza. "I feel like that was an Arthur Miller quote."

Lydia pauses in her reading, the newspaper rustling as she folds it slightly to fix Toby with an intrigued look. "Yes," she says slowly. "It was."

"All My Sons, right?" Toby continues, clearly unaware of how impressed Lydia is. "I liked it. Better than Death of a Salesman, anyway."

"Yeah, I think so too," Lydia responds, a tiny smile beginning to form on her lips. "I mean, obviously of the main characters are very similar, but I think that All My Sons is less..."

Allison rolls her eyes as Toby and Lydia begin a spirited discussion on Arthur Miller's works (she's always preferred Death of a Salesman, anyway), and takes advantage of their distraction in order to snatch another slice of pizza off the table. 

 "No, but I really think Miller is – Allison, did you just take my slice?"

Allison's busted.

"No...?"

Lydia growls, and Allison turns to Toby, frantically telegramming a silent SOS in his direction. Luckily, he manages to understand what she means, and quickly moves a slice from his side onto hers. "Here," he says. "I'm not really that hungry. That breakfast Allison made us kinda filled me up."

Lydia takes the slice, appeased, and Allison mouths a silent thank you in Toby's direction. He only grins.

Her and Lydia need to take Toby with them on outings more often, Allison decides. At least then he'll defend her against the forces of evil that occasionally possess Lydia's mind.

            ✦

"I'm going back home," Lydia announces at Allison's front door. Toby is waiting in his truck to drag Allison to Evita and the terror it will undoubtedly bring while she lets Lydia into the house (because Lydia forgot the spare key).   

Allison pauses, the key in her hand hovering just above the lock. "Home?" she repeats carefully.

"Yes."

"As in, home-home."

"As in, my place of residence, yes," Lydia huffs. "Do we need to go over the concept of a home, Allison?"

"No," Allison shakes her head, putting the key in the lock. "No, I – sorry. Are your parents back?"

"Their flight arrives tomorrow morning," Lydia replies, and the way her voice hardens slightly doesn't escape Allison, who opens the door and glances at her briefly as they go in.

"Okay," Allison says. She doesn't know why she feels weird about Lydia leaving this time round. Maybe it's because she's stayed for a little longer than both of them are  used to – usually, it's just the night, not almost a week. "Are you sure you don't want to stay tonight, as well?"

"No," Lydia shakes her head, and she says it like she's already turned it over in her mind. "I should check the flat's okay, and stuff. And I need to get it ready for the party tomorrow."

"Right," Allison can't help rolling her eyes. "The famous Huntington New Years' bash. Where are your parents going tomorrow night?"

"Office party, or something," Lydia says with calm disdain. "Not that that's anything new, of course."

"Lydia –"

"All the better for me," Lydia has her Queen Bee expression in place, the one that betrays no hint of emotion. "Anyway. I'll see you later. Bring Toby, tomorrow, okay?"

"Like he's not coming already."

"He might not want to."

"Lydia, everyone comes to your New Years' party."

Lydia smiles, but it still doesn't reach her eyes. "Yeah, you're right. Everyone does."

Allison is opens her mouth to say something, but is cut off by the beep of Toby's horn.

"You should go," Lydia nods in the direction of his car. "He's waiting."

"Right."

"And stop looking like someone just died, God," she rolls her eyes at Allison. "I'm going home, not moving countries." She pauses, before muttering to herself, "I knew you were too dependent on me."

Allison tries to scowl, but she feels more like smiling at the hint of the Lydia she knows showing itself. "Shut up."

"Make me."

Allison does smile this time, before going in to hug her. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay? I'll come extra early to help set things up."

"You don't have to do that," she tells her, once Allison's moved away.

"I know," Allison says. "So I'm coming extra early to help set things up."

Lydia looks at her for a long moment, something in her eyes that Allison can't name. "Okay," she says finally. "Now go watch Evita. Don't cry for me, Argentina."

"Yeah, yeah. Bye."

"Bye, Allison."

Allison pauses, then, because Lydia's posture is still stiff and her eyes are still a little guarded, she says, "I love you, you know."

Lydia rolls her eyes, but Allison catches her relaxing slightly. "I know. Now go."

Allison gives her hand a final squeeze before heading back out of the open front door and down to Toby, waiting in his truck. She waits until Lydia closes the door before moving to get in.

"Is Lydia okay?" Toby asks as Allison slams the passenger door of the truck and puts on her seatbelt, shifting the gear stick and turning out of the road.

Allison doesn't reply immediately, instead staring at the leather of her seat. She's always found it something of an oxymoron, a truck like this kept so ridiculously clean. Toby told her once that it used to belong to his mom. She wonders if that's why he keeps it so clean.

And because her mind has now shifted from Lydia to Toby, she blurts out; "Are you?"

Toby frowns, as though confused, but she doesn't miss how his fingers tighten around the steering wheel. "What?"

"Are you okay?" Allison repeats, steadier now. "Because I don't think you are, Toby."

He shakes his head, still frowning. "This isn't about me, this is about Lydia –"

"Who is worried sick about you," Allison tells him frankly. "Slow down," she adds, because the truck is lurching forwards too quickly for her liking.

"Well, she shouldn't," Toby brushes off as he obeys her command, going at a more reasonable speed.

"Why not?"

"Because there's nothing to worry about," he insists, and Allison doesn't like the way his face is hardening, closing itself off just like Lydia's had done. "I'm fine."

"When was the last time you slept, Toby?"

Toby brakes at the red light, looking at her for the first time in the conversation. "What?"

"The last time you slept," Allison repeats. "The last time you got an actual good night's sleep."

"What? I slept last night – "

"Oh yeah? How many hours?"

"I don't know, Allison, I don't count – "

"No," she corrects. "You don't sleep."

Toby is silent. Allison takes a deep, stuttering breath, running her hands through her hair.

"Why?" she asks softly.

"Why what?" Toby says after exhaling.

"Toby."

"Look," they're almost as his house, now, turning into the road. "I'm fine, okay? You don't – you don't need to worry about me."

"I thought we'd covered that we're friends," Allison can feel her hands curling into her fists, lying motionless by her sides. "That involves me worrying about you. It's practically in the fucking job description."

"Allison," Toby says her name on a sigh as he switches the key in the exhaust, the steady rumble of the truck coming to a halt.

Allison knows that voice. It's that voice her parents would use on each other when they'd exhausted themselves with the fighting. It's the voice her dad used when she tried to tell him not to leave to California. It's the voice Lydia knows never to use. And it stirs something deep in her stomach that she always tries to avoid. Anger.

"What, Toby?" she practically snarls, facing him. "I'm sorry, is this annoying you, that I'm trying to make sure you're okay?"

She expects his face to shut off completely, then, for his eyes to narrow and him to start hurling words just as taut with anger right back. Instead, he closes his eyes and leans back in the drivers' seat, running a hand through his hair as he does so.

"I don't want to argue with you, okay?" he says softly. "I'm fine. I promise. And I don't – I don't want you or Lydia worrying about me. You don't need to."

"Toby –"

"Please, Allison," he leans forward slightly, looking like he wants to take her hand but thinking better of it. "Please. I know you – and – but – I'm – " he breaks himself off with a sigh, running his hand through his hair again. "I'm fine," he repeats quietly, eyes closed. It sounds more like he's telling himself than Allison. "I'm okay. I promise."

"Toby..."

"Do you trust me?"

"I – " Allison feels the heat in her evaporate at the look on his face. "Of course."

"So..." he lets his lips twist into a tiny smile, and his fingers creep over hers. "Trust me on this?"

Allison looks at him, at the dark circles under his eyes and his dishevelled hair and the smile on his lips, and she feels the warmth in his fingers as they rest on top of hers across their seats.

"Okay," she says, even though she doesn't think it is.

Toby's smile grows a little wider, and Allison feels her stomach turn, though not unpleasantly. She tries to ignore it.

"Wanna go watch Evita?"

"No," she says honestly. Toby grins.

"C'mon," he says as he opens the truck door and clambers out. "The sooner we get it done..."

"Yeah, yeah," Allison follows his lead. "I can't believe I'm watching two musical films in one day."

"This one has Madonna in it," Toby offers, as though that's any kind of appeasement.

"Great," Allison says dryly. "Just what I look for in a movie."

Toby laughs.

✦

"Unf," Allison wakes up with her cheek squashed up against something a little more solid than a cushion, but still soft. She blinks sleepily, and notices that it's a lot warmer.

Also, that it's breathing. And it smells like Toby.

"Oh God,"  she sits up, still slumped slightly against him. "I fell asleep, didn't I?"

"Well, yeah," Toby chuckles. "It's just ended. I was going to wake you up, but you looked pretty comfortable, so..."

Allison wills herself not to blush, instead moving away from him and staring fixedly at the last of the end credits which are rolling down the screen. "I didn't even stay awake for that big song, what is it?"

"Don't Cry For Me Argentina?"

"Right," she rubs at her eyes, voice still a little rough and pitched low with sleep. "That's it. I didn't even stay awake for that." She opens her eyes again to see Toby looking at her from across the couch. "What?"

"What?"

"You're looking at me."

"Hm? No, I'm not, I was just –"

"Just..."

"Nothing. Just nothing."

Allison bites her lip, beginning to feel a smirk coming on despite herself. "You sure?"

"Uh, yes? I mean, yes. Yep. I'm – I'm sure."

  "Very sure."

"Completely sure. Completely – completely and utterly sure." Toby's cheeks are slightly flushed and he looks utterly flustered. It makes Allison feel both very powerful and completely powerless. "I'm, just, uh – going to the, um – I mean, going to get a drink. You, uh, you want something?"

"Juice would be awesome, if you have it, thanks," she says, taking pity and averting her eyes so Toby can adjust his trousers. The smirk is still threatening to break out on her lips, and she thinks there's probably a hint of it already on her lips. Whatever, she thinks. Not much she can do about that.

Toby leaves quickly after that, and he's gone way longer than it takes to go to the kitchen, but still not long enough to be jerking off in the bathroom or something. Unless Allison's assumptions about how long it takes boys to jerk off are very off. Which is possible, but highly unlikely. Part of her is doubtful that Toby jerks off at all – and yeah, okay, too far. Way too far.

Allison isn't a complete asshole, so once Toby comes back, bearing two glasses of Tropicana and a far more contained expression, she decides a change of subject is in order.

"So," she sips at her juice. "Sorry about, you know. Falling asleep and all."

Toby smiles, bringing his own glass to his lips. "That's okay," he says once he's swallowed some juice. "It's not the most exciting of musicals."

"Well," she leans back into the couch slightly, "you were going to do the log, anyway."

"I was," Toby agrees.

Allison hums and takes another gulp of juice. They sit in silence for a couple of minutes, before Toby says:

"Do you really think you're not observant?"

Allison pauses, thrown off by the sudden change of subject, and swallows her mouthful of juice before looking at him. "What?"

"You know, when you asked about Laura,  and I said you were..."

"Oh," she says, remembering, then frowns. "I'm not."

"But you –"

"Lydia's observant," Allison says.

"I know that."

"So are you."

"I –"

"I'm not," she shakes her head. "Not by a long shot."

"No, but you are," Toby leans forward slightly, finishing off his juice and setting his glass on the coffee table.

"How so?" Allison asks, because she's willing to indulge him and also curious to see his thought process.

"You know how Lydia takes her coffee –"

"How did you –"

"She told me. You know that I like my eggs sunny side up. That one day before break when we were in the library, you sat on Daniel's other side so your elbows wouldn't bump, because you remembered he's left handed –"

"That's different. You guys are my friends."

"You noticed when Laura was upset –"

"Anyone with a pair of working eyes would have notic – "

"You told that freshman that he'd left his locker unlocked –"

"That was just –"

"You picked up the purse that fell out a junior's bag and spent the next ten minutes following her to try and give it back. And you were late to English because of it."

"Come on, Toby, it was her purse – "

"You guessed how Miss Lewis was pregnant before anyone else."

"Bullshit. She was obviously pregnant."

"You –"

"Oh my God, fine," Allison huffs. "You're making me sound like some kind of creep or something. How long is this list, anyway?"

"Pretty long," Toby chirps. "I'm just making a point."

"Yeah, okay," Allison rolls her eyes. "I still sound like a creep, or something."

"You don't," he objects. Allison fixes him with a look. "Okay," he concedes, "maybe the way I said it made it sound a little weird but..." he shifts up the couch so they're sitting right next to each other, knees just touching. Allison's heartbeat absolutely does not pick up. "You notice things. And...it's cool. Weird, but...cool."

"Thanks, Toby," Allison deadpans. "I really appreciate you sounding like you just fell out of The Perks of Being a Wallflower."

Toby falls off the couch and kneels at Allison's feet on the carpet, giving her a melodramatically earnest look. "You see things," he tells her in a whisper. "You understand. You're a –"

"Shut up, idiot," Allison rolls her eyes and pushes him over. He lands on the carpet on his back, laughing as though the whole thing is one of the funniest he's ever seen in his life. Allison feels like she's far exceeded the eye-roll limit for today, but rolls her eyes anyway.

Toby's still laughing maniacally, and she's so busy rolling her eyes at him that she doesn't notice his hand creeping up towards her arm, and lets out a yelp when it tugs hard enough to bring her down beside him on the floor.

"Toby!"

He only looks at her before collapsing into louder fits of laughter. Allison tries to scowl at him, but his laughter is so infectious that she ends up echoing it, lying beside him on the carpet in front of the couch. And she thinks to herself that Toby Martin is a complete dork.

___________________________________________________________

a/n: i am back in london, caught up with my nanowrimo word goal, and have already written the next three chapters of this goddamn book. i am a very happy girl.