The Resurrection of Aubrey Miller (5 page)

I roll my eyes and release a breath.
Whatever.
I know I’m a freak. I accept it wholeheartedly. But hearing him say it out loud feels as if he just stabbed me in the heart with a dull spoon, taking the liberty of twisting it approximately three times before removing it. It hurts.

“You’re my best friend!”

In an attempt to clear my thoughts, I reach for my luggage and open it, hoping they grasp the hint that I’m really not up for conversation or damning conclusions at this moment, or ever for that matter. Not from
him
anyway.

Instead, they remain where they stand and the awkwardness of the moment flusters me. “If you don’t mind…” I trail off, pulling mounds of black clothing out of my suitcase and throwing them onto the bed.

In other words, leave me the fuck alone.

Just like Pavlov’s dog, my conditioned response lures me to the “swear jar” where I insert a quarter without question. Apparently, my freak mode is in full effect today.
Perfect.
Not at all embarrassing.

Pulling the rest of the quarters out of my front pocket, I set them on top of my I.D. just to the side of the jar, running my finger gently along its lid before turning to face the questioning expressions of Quinn and Kaeleb.

Quinn scrunches up her nose and giggles before inquiring, “What
is
that thing anyway?”

“It’s my swear jar,” I respond, completely straight-faced. “It’s Linda’s way of attempting to discourage my unfortunate addiction to ‘vulgar language and unnecessary obscenities’ as she calls them. But sometimes it’s just necessary to throw in the word
fuck
or
shit
to really get your point across, you know?” I let out a weary sigh. I think I just met my obligatory conversation quota for the next two years with that one statement.

Quinn, on the other hand, belts out a laugh. “Fuck yeah, I do!”

Abandoning Kaeleb at his post next to my bed, she skips her way over to her desk before pulling open the drawer, grabbing a handful of change, then whirling back around to head in my direction. She passes right by me and approaches the table, depositing a quarter before adding the others to my already established collection next to the jar.

When she turns back around, a sly grin slowly spreads across her face. “Well,
now
it’s the ‘beer fund’ jar. Feel free to express vulgarity and obscenity anytime you feel the need. This way we can kill two birds with one stone, freedom of expression and the acquisition of alcohol.”

“Niiiice,” Kaeleb pipes in, still holding the fort down in my personal space behind me. “Can I get in on this?”

“Sure!” Quinn squeaks, once again bouncing off the balls of her feet while clapping excitedly.

I twist my body to observe Kaeleb, whose mouth spreads into an absolutely gorgeous, wide grin displaying his perfectly white, straight teeth—much to my detriment. Casting his eyes down to me, he adds with that stupid smile still present on his face, “You’re shittin’ me with those eyes, right?”

Asshole
proceeds to reach into his pocket and pulls out his hand, examining the change in his palm until he finds a quarter, leaning in toward me and reaching around my waist to deposit it into the jar while I do the same. Our hands brush lightly, and surprised by our close proximity, I take a whopping step back into the safety of my no-one-allowed-past-this-point zone. My knees hit the bed behind me as his body once again crosses in front of mine; the breeze of our passing wafts the familiar scent of fresh cut grass and clean laundry between us. More Level 3 memories threaten to escape as I inhale deeply, swiftly rushing forward in anticipation of their long awaited release. But before they can breach my mind I slam the door and lock it once again, hoping Kaeleb’s access was just a one-time occurrence.

His hazel orbs fill with silent laughter at my response, but his broad smile lessens into a crooked grin as he assesses me from afar. Once I regain mental capability, I yank my mind from the heightened security of the memory bins and my eyes tighten into thin slits. “You’re shittin’ me with that question, right?”

Quickly leaning forward, I throw one more quarter into the jar and then take three large steps to the side in order to ensure even more distance, forming a triangle between the three of us. Quinn to my left, watching our exchange with way too much interest, and Kaeleb on my right, whose expression is void of the previous humor, yet not unkind. Almost as though the terseness of my comment merely piqued his curiosity.

We all remain locked in our places and seconds awkwardly turn into minutes, no one really sure where to take the conversation next.

Sadly, I tend to have that effect on these types of situations.

After a long while, Quinn is the first to break the silence. “Well, this is fucking awkward.”
(Deposits quarter)

Kaeleb chuckles and responds with, “It sure as shit is.”
(Deposits quarter)

Quinn follows that up with, “What the fuck are we going to do about it?
(Deposits quarter)

To which Kaeleb answers, “Hell if I know.”
(Deposit quarter and mouths “That counts”)

Quinn laughs and states, “Hell yeah, it does.”
(Deposits quarter)

It’s then that they both stop their expletive-charged dialogue to stare at me, obviously expecting me to be a willing participant in this sad excuse for a conversation. My eyes first find those of Quinn, full of hope, and then Kaeleb’s, urging me to say something.

My eyes flick back and forth between the two a couple of times before I manage to do the impossible.

A barely there smile plays lightly on my lips and a hint of laughter lodges its way through my mouth as I finally conclude the discussion.

“Fine. You win.” Reaching back toward the table, I add, “Fuck the beer fund and break open the jar. Let’s get the hell out of here to go get some fucking dinner.”
(Deposits three quarters and then empties jar)

And with that one obscenity-filled statement, we stride out of the dorm room together, forging unlikely friendships—some old, some new—that will forever change the course of our lives.

See. I told you, Linda.

Sometimes expletives are just…necessary.

“Soooo,” Kaeleb begins, wiping the grease from his extra-large fries onto the paper napkin in front of him, “You need a Boarding Buddy.”

Freaking traitor Quinn left me stranded with him when she went to refill her water and has yet to return. My eyes rake over the tables until they land on her, laughing with two extremely skinny, yet equally boisterous blondes clear across the cafeteria.

Damn it. I was depending on her to make conversation.

Sigh.

“Is that a statement or a question?” I ask, avoiding his gaze while feigning interest in the extremely unappetizing slab of meat on my plate.

“General observation only.” Kaeleb offers nothing else, so I force myself to make eye contact with him as he sits directly across the table from me.

He chuckles under his breath, throwing the napkin on top of his empty plate and relaxing back into his chair. “You’re not very fond of conversation, or people for that matter, are you?”

“No, not really,” I remark, stabbing the mystery meat before once again meeting his stare.

The corners of his mouth slip downward and he tilts his head slightly. “Why is that?”

May-Day! May-Day! Man Down!

QUINN!!!!

Trying to calm my anxiety level, I inhale deeply before answering.

“I don’t know,” I lie. “I don’t really see why that’s any of your concern.”

My eyes break from his, raking over a group of girls flocked just behind his chair, giggling while eyeing him with interest. Their faces are all smiles as they nod and they speak to one another, most likely discussing their strategic plan of attack. And then, right on cue, they disengage their stares and each set of their eyes land right on me. I watch as their smiles fall and their expressions turn from that of pure delight to ones of absolute disgust. In response, I tighten my gaze and lean forward, causing them to quickly clear their faces of the previous revulsion and disperse every which way. Satisfied with their reaction, I lean back, laughing to myself as they all run into each other, clearly not having planned an effective escape route.

Dumbasses.

Shaking my head, I bring my attention back to Kaeleb, who’s watching my silent threat with humor-filled eyes.

“Don’t you have something to do?” I inquire. “Like go talk to someone who actually would like to reciprocate?”

His lips jerk upward as he attempts to fight yet another annoying smile…and loses. “Yes, I guess I could do that. But I’m talking to you, which is like pulling teeth. I find it fascinating, so if you don’t mind, I think I’ll just stay put for now. I’m always up for a good challenge.” He tilts his head. “So I’ll ask again…what drives this lack of fondness for conversation and people?”

Tightening my gaze at his audacious tone, the hold on the fork in my hand hardens as I lean forward, attempting the most ferocious glare I can muster. With the cat eyes, I’m pretty sure I look downright terrifying right now.

“You really want to know?” I mock his stupid head cock and raise my brow.

Okay, maybe not so terrifying because he counters with some kind of sexy smirk that probably rips the panties off of normal girls. With me, it only manages to get my panties in a wad.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t,” he counters.

The look in his eyes tells me he won’t be giving up anytime soon, and the fact that he seems so blasé about it all just further peeves me off.

Fuck it. He asked for it. It’s his funeral.

“People die around me.”

The panty-sweltering grin disappears right along with the coloring in his face as his head jerks back.

“What? What do you mean? Like, you kill them?” He narrows his eyes, assessing me before seemingly drawing his own conclusion. Humor once again settles into his features as he leans toward me and lowers his voice, whispering, “Do you
shank
people, Raven?”

I refuse to smile, but a tiny breath of laughter bubbles into my throat and out through my nose. “No, I don’t kill people. Or
shank
them, idiot.”

After watching him for a while I release a long breath, the all too familiar morbidity of the conversation suddenly draining my energy. As much as I would like to pretend that I’m like every other normal girl traipsing through the cafeteria at the moment, I’m just not. I never will be.

I clear my throat and finish my statement with ample warning. “They just tend to meet an untimely death, and if you knew what was good for you, you would cease this random line of questioning or there’s a likely chance that you could drop dead tomorrow.”

His breath stalls and I can’t help but feel victorious and very self-satisfied with the delivery of my message. That is until he draws a huge breath of air into his lungs and then proceeds to laugh in my face.

Right. In. My. Face.

And he
continues
laughing. So loud, in fact, that he begins to draw very unwelcome attention to our table. Questioning stares are all I see as he slams his hand down on the table repeatedly, bending at the waist, hiccupping as though I just told the most hilarious joke he’s ever heard.

Literally sinking into my seat, my face heats with embarrassment and I have no choice but to watch his overtly conspicuous reaction, until he finally rises and leans back against his chair, wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes as he reclines.

“Pheeeeeew,” he draws out breathlessly. “It’s just so funny. I’m sorry.”

He’s totally not sorry.

“
What’s
so funny?” I inquire, finally rising in my seat and cupping my free hand across my forehead, throwing my hair forward in an attempt to just disappear from the humiliation that
is
this moment.

Slicing the fork still within my grasp through the mystery meat, I vow to chew and swallow as quickly as possible so that we can just get the hell out of here. Just before it hits my lips, Kaeleb leans forward and points at my plate, stalling my attempt to eat when he says, “That.”

I raise my eyes from underneath my hand only to see that same craptastic smile crossing his face once again. “What? My plate?” I ask, lowering the fork.

“No. Not the plate. It’s just…” He breaks to chuckle under his breath, but finally manages to compose himself before continuing. “It’s the fact that you’re so worried about triggering the
untimely
death of everyone you meet. So much so that you don’t speak to others, rarely make eye contact, and try to make yourself look like a freak. Yet, you eat…
meat
. And it doesn’t seem to bother you. At all.”

He unsuccessfully tries to hide his amusement. “I can’t help but laugh. The irony of it all kills me.” His eyes break from the meat, latching onto mine as he adds, “Pun intended.”

Our stares remain locked and I watch his full lips twitch as he clenches his jaw in an effort to keep a straight face. Narrowing my eyes, I push the plate as far away from me as I can and not so subtly reach over to grab the lone apple from where traitor Quinn is
supposed
to be sitting. I say absolutely nothing as I take a bite and begin to chew, suddenly missing the mystery meat. There’s no denying I will be starving later, but it’s the price I’ll have to pay, because it’s then and there that I take my oath and pledge my allegiance to vegetarianism, trying to push the newfound guilt of every single hamburger I’ve ever eaten out of my mind.