The Resurrection of Aubrey Miller Page 5

  So recently, as a form of payback for the rappelling incident as well as any stupid comment he makes during class, it has become habit to catch him but then promptly let his body fall to the ground from the safe two foot height. This often results in very inappropriate laughter—his out loud and mine inwardly—from the both of us as well as an extremely disapproving glare from Dr. Palmer.

  No matter how hard he lands, it doesn’t seem to deter his sarcastic remarks about death or his probing questions about my personal life. Quinn’s resolve never falters either and between the both of them, I’m losing my mind. Partly because their tenacity won’t let me just be. But mostly, it stems from the constant confusion warring in my mind when subjected to their repeated attempts. Because the fact of the matter is, I actually want to answer them, to let down my manufactured walls and allow them into my highly dysfunctional, warped mind.

  And that scares me shitless.

  So instead of offering actual answers, I give them only monosyllabic and/or elusive responses, often in the form of a returned question. For example, Successful Evasion Number One by Quinn Matthews, approximately one month ago. Here’s the conversation between Quinn and me:

  Quinn (as we eat Ramen Noodles in our room): “Do you guys know each other?”

  Me: “Who?”

  Q: “You and Kaeleb?”

  Me: (Full facial flush accompanied by throat clearing) “Who?”

  Q: “Kaeleb. You guys just seem really comfortable. Well, not comfortable, but familiar. With your banter and how you seem to just get under each other’s skin. It just seems like you know each other.”

  Me: “Huh. Weird. How was class?”

  Successful Evasion Number Two, approximately three weeks ago. Brought to you by Kaeleb McMadden on our way to class:

  Kaeleb: “So, Raven, what’s your story?”

  Me: “Um, story?”

  K: “Yes, Raven. Please shed some light on the enigma that is you.”

  Me: (Sighs inwardly) “Why do you keep saying my name like that?”

  K: “What? Like, Raven?”

  Me: “Yes. Like, Raven.”

  K: (Shrugs shoulders) “I don’t know. I guess I just find it an interesting choice for a name. Obvious symbolism and all. It’s almost as though it was prophetic in nature.”

  Me: (Narrows glare and smirks) “Can you please stop saying it that way? It’s getting on my nerves. You are getting on my nerves.”

  K: (Chuckles lightly under breath) “As you wish…Raven.”

  Me: (Internal blood-curdling scream as I increase my pace and distance)

  (Loud cackling from fifteen feet behind me)

  Successful Evasion Number Three, about a week ago. Tag team, and quite possibly the worst, attempt by Quinn Matthews and Kaeleb McMadden in our dorm room:

  Kaeleb: “Seriously, Raven, I have to ask what’s up with the contacts?”

  Quinn: “Yeah, I mean, I like the purple today, but why do you always wear them?”

  (Both stare expectantly)

  Kaeleb: (Clasps hands together and points at Quinn)“Dude! She should get some zombie ones. Those would be so fucking cool.” (Deposits quarter into the jar)

  Quinn: “O-M-G! YES! Or those ones that are completely black with no iris!”

  Kaeleb: “Like I said, zombie.”

  Quinn: “No, totally black ones would be like a demon or something. Zombie ones would be like, you know, grey and cloudy looking. Like my grandpa’s.” (Glances back at me) “He has cataracts.”

  Kaeleb: “Are you sure?” (Pulls out phone)

  Quinn: “Yes! It’s really creepy. It makes my eyes water when I look at him.”

  Kaeleb: (Laughs) Kinda like when I look at Raven’s cat-eyes.”

  Me: (Sighs and picks up backpack to head to the library) “You guys really need to get a life.”

  And for the finale, a compilation of questions dodged over the last four weeks (I’ll let you guess who said what):

  “What color is your hair naturally?”

  “What are your parent’s names? What do they do?”

  “Do you ever do anything but scowl?”

  “Do you have any pets?” (Sigh…Walter.)

  “Do you have a boyfriend?”

  “Have you ever had a boyfriend?”

  “Are you a virgin?”

  “Do you have any siblings?”

  “What are your hobbies?”

  “Who is Linda to you?”

  “Where did you go to high school?”

  “Did you play sports?”

  “Do you own anything other than baggy pants, concert shirts, and Docs?”

  “So, no tight-ass mini-dresses?”

  And this has been the hell I have had to endure since school started.

  So, needless to say, when waking up this morning to “Raven, seriously, what color is your hair? I’m dying to know!” I have no choice but to finally cave under the pressure. I guess Quinn has decided to change tactics and hit me up before my brain has any chance to fire up any neurological activity, leaving me utterly defenseless against her line of questioning.

  Slowly dragging my pillow from where it has been shielding my face from the dreaded light of morning, my eyes fall directly on Quinn as she exits the bathroom with my black hair dye in her hands, the golden flecks in her green eyes lit with curiosity, hope, and determination.

  A small growl escapes my lips as I throw my pillow onto the floor. I can tell she’s trying to contain her excitement at the possibility of breaking me, but failing miserably. After placing my beloved hair products on my desk, she sits on the edge of my bed and I find myself shocked that for the first time since school started, I don’t have to fight the urge to scoot away from her. I do sit up though and stretch for a ridiculous amount of time, stalling.

  My hands fall to my lap and I release a defeated sigh before answering. “Okay, here’s the deal. I will give you five questions that I promise to answer honestly. That being said, do you really want to waste the first one on the true color of my hair?”

  Quinn considers my question for a while before bringing her legs onto my bed and curling them underneath her as though getting ready for a really enthralling story. All she’s missing is the popcorn.

  Scrunching her mouth to the side, she deliberates for a lengthy amount of time before finally landing on the all-important first question. “Your parents. What are they like?”

  A breath lodges in my throat and my heart stammers for a brief second before it begins thudding against my ribcage. I can feel the blood draining from my already color-challenged face as I speak. “They died when I was younger.” And for some reason, I dimwittedly throw in the answer to what could have possibly been another question. “Linda is my legal guardian. She has been since I was eight years old.”

  Stupid.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  Quinn’s entire expression falls to the floor, dipping downward. She breathes in deeply with the information given and nods slightly before proceeding. “Siblings?”

  “I had a sister once. She also died,” I respond with a forced lack of emotion. Tears threaten my eyes, but I swallow them back, along with the pain. Quinn’s tears, however, slide gracefully from her eyes and trail slowly down her cheeks. I mentally shake my head. This is exactly why I don’t talk about the past. I don’t even know why I offered to answer these God-awful questions. I blame the early morning assault, but unfortunately, my brain is fully functional now and there’s no escaping the crippling heartache that comes along with the answers.

  Taking a deep breath through my nose, I quickly compose myself while Quinn continues to watch my reaction warily. After wiping the moisture from her face with her fingertips, she places her hand on top of my leg which is still enveloped within the warmth of my black and gray striped comforter. “I’m so sorry. I can’t even begin to imagine.”

  “That’s life I guess,” I answer with a shrug of my shoulders. “Unfortunately, for the people around me, life tends to come w
ith an extraordinarily short expiration date. Like milk.”

  Completely ignoring my attempt at deflection, Quinn dips her head in my direction. “So…the hair, the contacts, the piercings…they are to keep people away from you?”

  I nod my answer. The corners of her mouth once again angle downward as she takes in my mind-blowing revelation.

  “That’s three. Two more to go. Unless you’re done, which is completely fine by me.” She hesitantly shakes her head, curiosity clearly outweighing her sorrow for my sucky-ass life, right before leaning forward and snaking my student I.D. off my bedside table. After taking a glance at it, she flashes it in front of my face. I can literally see the light bulb click on as it rests in its imaginary space above her head.

  “Is your name really Raven?” Lowering the laminated square a tad, her eyes tighten as she peers at me over the top of it.

  My lower lip is sucked in-between my teeth as I nibble, debating my answer. Honesty in this case is completely subjective. As much as I want to disclose the true answer, I don’t. I can’t. The acknowledgment of my birth name would only serve to rip open a gaping hole in my fortress, linking my past with my present. Raven, for me, is a name that provides me with a comforting sense of autonomy, relinquished from the horror of actually having to face my past. To come to terms with it. Speaking about the death of my family, I’m still able to keep that connection severed. Even breathing the name, well, in my own twisted mind, would be an act of resurrecting the girl that I buried right along with them. And that’s never going to happen. I am Raven. The little girl no longer exists.

  “Yes,” I state calmly. Quinn’s eyes narrow even further, forming crinkles around the sides, as she holds her stare on my vacant face. After a few seconds, she seems to accept my answer before releasing it. Drumming her fingers still on top of my leg, she glances up at the ceiling. “Last one. Better make it good, huh?”

  I remain still, patiently awaiting her question while reinforcing my walls that have bowed and weakened slightly since the beginning of this inquisition. Just as I have them fortified, she drags her stare away from the fluorescent lights overhead to meet mine.

  A slight smile crosses her lips as she removes her hand from my leg and stands, taking a small step back before speaking. “Wanna go get some breakfast?”

  A relieved breath makes its way out of my mouth, and damn if a smile doesn’t break across my face too.

  With that one stupid question, my defenses are pierced and unfamiliar warmth slowly begins to seep inside and spread throughout, her infiltration sparking to life the tiniest little “Quinn Matthews” section in my heart.

  For a split second, I allow myself to enjoy the foreign feeling before nodding my head and hauling my ass out of bed to join my new friend for breakfast, selfishly blinded and oblivious to the danger I may have just put her in.

  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 bre
athing 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.