The Resurrection of Aubrey Miller (8 page)

BOOK: The Resurrection of Aubrey Miller
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Breakfast was a success. In fact, it was so successful that it quickly became a staple for our morning routine. We’ve actually added some other occupants to our shaded table in the courtyard area outside the cafeteria since this started. One welcome, the others not so much. Kaeleb, of course, was welcome. Candace and Sabrina, AKA The Annoying Emaciated Bobble-head Twins, along with some seriously stupid ‘roided out tagalongs, Josh and Luke, were definitely
not
welcome. Not by me anyway. Kaeleb didn’t seem to enjoy their presence too much either, but Quinn, my poor Quinn has seemingly fallen head over heels in love with Mr. Beef-and-Brawn-with-no-Brain—Josh for short—since she first met him a couple of weeks ago.

A spoonful of Froot Loops finds its way to my mouth as I glance across the table and note the dopey, love-struck grin plastered on her face as she listens to his highly intellectual account of some “sick”—his wording not mine, obviously—keg party he attended Friday night. Sabrina and Candace look equally enthralled as they watch with Quinn from across the table. My gaze darts to Kaeleb and I choke down my laughter at the look on his face as he also listens. Grimacing as though he just bit down on a slice of lemon, his face is puckered with a look of absolute distaste. A strip of bacon falls from between his fingers directly onto his plate as he tears his eyes away, throwing me a questioning sideways
What the fuck?
glance. My left eyebrow rises along with my shoulders as I answer him with my own look of uncertainty.

“Quinn, seriously, you aren’t going to eat
all
of that, are you?”

I quickly disengage from Kaeleb’s stare,
my
face now pinched in disgust as I eye the outspoken, hollowed-cheek bitch sitting across from me. Sabrina’s eyeballs practically bulge from their sockets as they glare at Quinn’s plate which—I kid you not—contains a meager piece of unbuttered toast with a small helping of fruit salad. I guess that’s a lot when you compare it to the two lonely coffee cups in from of both Sabrina and Candace.

Mmmm…the breakfast of champions and anorexics everywhere.

Quinn’s face falls as she sheepishly looks back at Josh, who seems unaffected by Sabrina’s statement and makes no attempt to shield her from the scathing comment. Her cheeks brighten with embarrassment as she hesitantly places the tips of her fingers on the sides of the plate before pushing it in Kaeleb’s direction.

“I got this for Kaeleb. I ate earlier in the room.”

Completely stunned, I watch Quinn practically fold into herself in an effort to disappear from the table after her blatant lie. She didn’t eat a goddamn thing. I know this for a fact. Why isn’t she sticking up for herself?

My stomach tightens and churns while my heart rate increases, instigating a raging flush of anger as it spreads across my face like wildfire. I open my mouth, fully expecting to spew venom all over this undernourished wench, but just as the words are about to fly off my tongue the menacing tone of Kaeleb’s voice stops me cold.

“You’re kidding me, right?” he scoffs, breaking only to shove Quinn’s plate back across the table before bringing his hazel eyes back to Sabrina, darkened with brute ferocity. “You look like a starved carcass, Sabrina. It’s not only unattractive, it’s ironically unappetizing. You should really eat something for the sake of everyone at this table.”

Heat rolls off of him, warming the entire left side of my body. “You’re a bitch,” he adds matter-of-factly, but his anger is unmistakable as it fills the air around us. Sabrina and Candace simultaneously gasp in response while Josh and Luke exhibit only blank stares. Big surprise.

My eyes find Quinn next, whose face is now completely void of the previous coloring as she clamps her jaw shut. I guess it flew wide open along with mine.

Sabrina collects herself and quickly recovers, responding with, “Whatever, Kaeleb. Your opinion doesn’t mean shit to me.” She gestures to Quinn. “Hey, I’m just trying to do Quinn here a favor. We all know she’s in the pageant circuit, and from where I’m sitting, the top of her jeans is the only thing getting crowned.” Her blue eyes slide in Quinn’s direction. “Watch that muffin top. That’s all I’m sayin’.”

Candace snorts and Quinn’s face crumbles in anguish and embarrassment, her light green eyes glistening as she bolts up from the bench and grabs her backpack from underneath her. Tripping awkwardly over her own feet as she tries to make a somewhat graceful exit, she whimpers, her right hand rising to swipe the falling tears from her cheek before heading in the direction of the dorm. Kaeleb’s body tenses to rise next to me, but I place my hand on his leg, keeping him still as I move to stand.

After pressing myself off of him, my palms find their way to the cool cement of the tabletop and my fingers stretch widely as I lean over, positioning my face a mere inch away from Sabrina’s. I shoot a quick glance at Kaeleb over my shoulder, and based on the throbbing vein on his forehead, he’s using every single bit of restraint within his possession not to jump across the table and strangle this skank. Giving him a subtle shake of my head, I wordlessly let him know that this retribution will be falling within
my
jurisdiction.

I casually turn my attention back to Sabrina and lean in even closer. Her coffee breaths hit me in the face as her breathing picks up with my threatening stance
.
“It looks like Quinn isn’t the only one sporting a crown.” Grabbing the cereal bowl between my hands, I swiftly raise it above her head, making the most of the fear flitting across her face as I can before quickly turning it upside down, dumping the contents right on top of her perfectly coiffed blonde hair. “Watch your fucking mouth. That’s all
I’m
sayin’.”

As soon as the ice cold milk hits the top of her head, she lets out a grating shriek and her hands make their way to her face, shielding her expertly applied makeup from the torrential downpour. Milk and Froot Loops ricochet off of Sabrina’s shoulder, spraying onto Candace’s face and hair until I finally drop the empty bowl back onto the table. Kaeleb stands quickly, throws his heavy forearm across my upper body, and forces me backward, but not before I get my final vengeance. With all the strength I can muster, I press against the imprisoning limb and break free. My body flies forward as my right arm swings across the table, sending Styrofoam coffee cups flying into the laps of the already shaken victims in front of me. Sabrina and Candace bound upward from their seats, wildly swiping at their laps while Josh and Luke remain completely still, blank faces still on display as they watch the girls screeching and jumping in front of them.

Unfortunately, that’s the last thing I’m able to see before I’m somehow whisked onto Kaeleb’s shoulder. His left arm curls around my waist while his right braces my shins immobile, most likely a protective measure against the massive Docs covering my feet. I’m forced to watch Kaeleb’s own boots step over the bench as he turns us away from the chaos, but eventually raise my neck so I can fully appreciate the glorious commotion playing out right in front of me. Sabrina’s head jerks up as we retreat, her eyes shooting daggers in my direction. “You fucking goth
freak
!” she screams, projecting pure hatred with her words. “You will pay for this, bitch!”

My response? Full-on laughter that ultimately morphs into an
eat shit
grin. I add the extension of my middle finger as my upper body jostles uncontrollably against Kaeleb’s back, his strides increasing in both strength and speed. My eyes remain latched with hers until I’m carried around the side of the cafeteria and she can no longer be seen.

As soon as we round the corner, Kaeleb gently places me back onto my feet and by the gleaming look in his eyes and the wide, toothy smile he’s giving me, I’d say he approves of my inappropriate behavior. I find it impossible not to mimic his expression as he watches me, not only because of his obvious delight, but because staring back at me is a face much resembling the eight year old boy that I loved so deeply. The same boy who dared me into jumping homemade bike ramps and was repeatedly forced into attending many a tea party.

Yes, I said tea party. Don’t judge.

In this one and only moment, I allow the playful, childhood memories of us to flow without trying to contain them, the familiar recollections washing over me and warming my insides. Damn, that boy must have a ghost key for my memory bins.

“That was fucking EPIC!” he shouts, then breaks into laughter. “She’s going to be digging Froot Loops out of her hair for months. And her face? Priceless! Candace’s too!”

A small chuckle passes between my lips as I tuck a strand of black hair behind my ear. “Sorry about that,” I respond. “But in my defense, she deserved it.”

“Hell yeah, she did.” Kaeleb hands me my backpack and as he eyes me curiously, our laughter soon falls into an awkward silence. I avert my stare, scanning over a passerby exiting the cafeteria. Slowly, he leans into me and raises his hand toward my face, grazing the side of my chin with the tip of his finger.

Now usually, I would have taken a step back out of his reach, protectively placing distance between us. So color me surprised when I remain standing in place, allowing the heat from his touch to penetrate my skin. Our breaths mingle together as we lock eyes, the mood tangibly shifting from its previous lightheartedness. He takes a small step forward and closely surveys my reaction.

Instinctively, I lift my own hand as his drops away, his eyes still glued to my chin. “What?” I ask, rubbing the area he just touched. Just as my finger skims along the small indentation, I know. I know exactly what he’s looking at.

“How did you get that scar?” His voice is gentle, almost timid as he redirects his eyes to mine.

Blood warms my face. “This? Uhhhhh…” I stall, and then lie. “Tripped last year, hit my chin on the corner of a fireplace. Why?”

Our stares remain locked as I plaster my face with a look of contrived innocence, my mind trying to skirt the memory of how I
actually
busted my chin wide open. The fact is, I remember quite well. We were six. He was trying to teach me how to skate and I slipped, falling approximately 1.2 seconds after my wheels hit the pavement. Haven’t touched a pair since.

Eyes narrowing, he holds my stare before taking a step back from me. “Wow. Looks like it hurt. I had a friend who fell on her chin like that once and it was pretty nasty. Blood everywhere.” My eyes widen a tad at his reminiscence as a mischievous smile crosses his face. “Yeah, she pretty much ate the curb. Skating accident. She was freaking out, crying and stuff. I had to carry her back to my house because she couldn’t skate back, obviously.”

At that, my blackened brows rise toward the sky. He totally
did not
carry me back—we were
six!—
and I sure as hell didn’t “freak out” or “cry”. He chuckles under his breath and shakes his head. “Man, I miss her.”

A breath catches in my throat as it constricts with his sentiment. And although I want to say, “I miss you too,” what passes through my lips is, “Quinn.”

His head jerks back in surprise. “Not Quinn. Her name was—”

“No,” I cut him off, throwing my thumb over my shoulder, “I mean, I should probably go talk to Quinn. You know, make sure she’s okay.”

Nodding slightly, Kaeleb’s expression saddens. “Yeah, probably. Don’t you have class though?”

“Yeah, but so does she. I have a feeling we’ll be skipping today.”

“Near-assault and truancy all in one day.” He tsks. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you,
Raven
.”

He has
no
idea.

After giving Kaeleb a lengthy look, I hoist my backpack onto my shoulder and pivot on my heel, heading toward the dorms to console Quinn and escape the slew of emotions I’ve experienced today.

Emotions which are seemingly impossible to avoid, yet surprisingly welcome.

“You okay?” Shutting the door behind me, I cautiously set my backpack on the floor of our now darkened room. Quinn is sprawled out on the bed in front of me, her face hidden in her pillow as her muffled cries escape into the down feathers. Not really experienced with how to handle sobbing people, or people in general for that matter, I move to sit quietly on the edge of her bed, giving her plenty of room to just let her cry. I remain there for a very long time, silently hoping my presence is comforting for her and not freaking her out.

BOOK: The Resurrection of Aubrey Miller
7.33Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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