Connection -- A Ross Lynch Story

Time

The clock on the wall ticked the seconds away, counting the time with each little shift of the arms. A full circle meant one minute; another minute gone and it felt like I was just sitting there in that dressing room wasting time. I felt this, even when I knew that the time I was wasting wasn't actually mine anymore and hadn't been since tour started a month ago. The passing time -- every single second, minute, hour -- that I spent waiting for the next event to start, for that alarm to go off telling me where to go, I wished I were spending it with him.

Our first official date was everything a girl dreams about. You watch the movies and you say to yourself that there was no way any of it could be real. Guys like those in the films couldn't possibly exist. Yet when Ross held my hand and led me through a small patch of trees, laughing as I tripped and stumbled over every single stone and stick in my way, I thought to myself that maybe I was wrong. There was a picnic blanket laid out across the bright green grass in the clearing, the scenery peppered with little purple, pink, and yellow flowers reaching up through the ground. "Ross," I gasped. "How did you find time to do all of this?"

He finally released my hand and let me go examine the contents of the picnic basket, and all he did was watch me. He held his camera up to his eye and snapped a couple of pictures with a small smile and sighed quietly, taking in the sight of me. "I have my ways," he winked before sitting down next to me on the blanket, wrinkling the fabric a little in the process. "You look beautiful," he said, tucking a strand of lilac hair behind my ear before caressing my cheek lightly.

It was like a scene from a cheesy romantic film, but this time I wasn't sitting on the couch with Piper, shoving popcorn into my mouth and rolling my eyes at every cliche line the leading man uttered. I wasn't making jokes about how unrealistic it all was and wishing I could change the channel. This time I was inside of the fantasy, the leading lady falling head-over-heels for this boy. Maybe the movies weren't all fake after all. Maybe a guy like that could exist.

Maybe I found him.

That was nearly a week ago, and now I sat with my legs crossed, bouncing my right foot up and down with my guitar in my lap. The pick in my right hand tugged at the strings, letting a muted sound of the chords ring in my ears. "Trina, your D string is so out of tune," Carson sighed next to me, also practicing with his bass.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," I chuckled and rolled my eyes, twisting the tuner attached to that string and humming to myself to match the pitch. Once I finally got it tuned, I strummed the chord once again. "Better?"

He mumbled something under his breath, no doubt reacting to my attitude. There was something off about him. Usually he played the bigger man, shrugging off my quips or throwing one back in my face. Recently, he rarely had a comeback. Words left his mouth in short, quick sentences that got the point across and nothing more. Something was definitely off. "Okay..." I whispered to myself, lifting the guitar and resting it against the couch. I glanced over to Piper, who was sitting by the mirrors tapping away on her laptop next to Asher. She shrugged, obviously just as clueless and surrendered as I was feeling.

Just as I started to get up, there was a knock at the door. "Come in," I called, not really paying attention as the door slowly cracked open. It wasn't until I caught a glimpse of the blond hair in the reflection from the mirror that I knew who it was. Ross cleared his throat quietly, his body now halfway in the room. "Hey," I greeted him, trying to contain my excitement.

"Hi," he returned the greeting with a sweet grin. "I just wanted you guys to know that Ryland is feeling pretty ill tonight and wanted to know if you'd be willing to cover some of his set time." He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and looked around the room, looking at the reactions of each of us.

"That's too bad about Ry," Asher shook his head.

All of us shared glances with each other before I spoke up. "I think we could pull something together," I shrugged and everyone nodded in agreement.

"I look forward to seeing what you guys come up with," Ross said, pulling his hands out of his jeans and clapping them together. "You blow me away every night," he added, but he was looking directly at me this time.

"Thanks," Carson scoffed, not looking up from his guitar. The sudden change of mood struck Ross unexpectedly and he started to back out of the room, sensing that he was no longer wanted.

"You can be rude to me," I told Carson, kicking him in the shin with enough force for him to wince, "but can you not take it out on him? Thanks." With that, I pushed the door back open and saw Ross walking down it, running his fingers over the framed images on the wall. "Ross!" I called, trying not to raise my voice too much.

He stopped in his tracks and leaned against the wall, not turning to face me at all. His shoulders raised and fell softly as he shook his head. Once I finally caught up to him, I wrapped my arms around him from behind and rested my chin on his shoulder. "I didn't think it was your job to alert us of lineup changes," I said into his ear.

Ross cocked his head to kiss my cheek lightly before turning around to face me. "I just wanted an excuse to see you," he admitted, fluttering his eyelashes a bit. "There's just not enough time in the day."

"It's been a week since our date and I miss it so much," I admitted. I hugged him close to me and felt the fabric of his jacket scratch against my chest as he breathed. "We need to find more time."

"Maybe we just need to make time," he chuckled before pushing me away carefully and leaning down to peck my forehead. He rubbed his nose against mine a few times. "And to think that a month ago you wanted nothing to do with me."