Shooting Stars

Chapter 47: Shadows of the Moon

{Patrick}

Ally stretches out on the couch, as the two of us watch a movie.

It's Friday, August 8, about 7:45 in the evening.

It's been an eventful week, but an enjoyable one at that.

Last night, Ally and I ran into Abigail at the coffee shop.

By chance.

I still cannot believe that it happened.

But Christ, am I ever thankful that it did. And am I ever thankful that Ally convinced me to go talk to her.

It was hard.

But I did. I forced myself to.

After about twenty minutes of small talk in the coffee store, I invited her back to the apartment for a little while.

She didn't resist.

She said yes right away.

And so we went back to the apartment, where we talked more, hugged, and she even kissed me on the cheek.

After she left, my heart was frantically beating.

She left me with the same sort of feeling you get from running miles.

But the pleasurable aspect of that feeling.

She has always made me feel that way. And she always will.

Things are looking good, and it's all thanks to Ally.

Jonathan comes home tonight, and Ally honestly won't stop talking about it.

She's extremely excited, and I can totally understand why.

Jonathan is expected to be home in about thirty minutes, so Ally and I are simply hanging out watching a movie together until he gets home.

We didn't do much today, to be honest.

But that was nice.

Suddenly, Ally's cell phone goes off.

It's sitting on the coffee table in front of us, and it's vibrating violently.

She sits up, and answers the call.

I press the pause button on the remote.

"Hello?" Ally answers.

I watch as her face grows from a small smile to a tense expression.

Her smile fades, and her eyebrows furrow.

She swallows hard, and her eyes begin to form tears.

I sit up immediately.

"What's wrong Ally?" I ask her, eyes focused right on hers.

She keeps the phone pressed to her ear.

"Are you kidding?" She asks, sounding both worried, concerned, and annoyed all at the same time.

"Well, thanks for letting me know." She says, her voice sounding slightly weak.

She then gets up, and walks into the kitchen to keep talking.

Apparently she doesn't want to say something when I'm around.

I wait for about five minutes, when she comes back, phone in hand, and tears streaming down her face.

I stand up.

"Ally, what's wrong?" I repeat, holding her at shoulder-length.

Her dark hair is framing her face, and her tears are so pure.