Lizzethhhh: Thank you!
elocin1977: Yay! Thanks!
H.L: I know you didn't mean to come across as offensive, but, not gonna lie either, you kind of hurt my feelings. There is controversy over whether or not Shakespeare even wrote Shakespeare. I'm not here trying to get it perfect with this story - I already have a full WIP that completely drains me, which is why I wanted to try some cute, fluffy stuff for once. It's not really meant to be a full on novel. I'm not used to writing the lighter stuff, but I expect practice will make me better.
ixSkye: Aw. Hello. Thank you! And, dude, never apologize for your English. Speaking more than one language is badass, and English is hard.
Pixie1913: It's okay, I still feel we bonded in the short time we had together!
lee963: Thank you!


Roadside Attractions


And it's beginning to get to me,
That I know more of the stars and sea,
Than I do of what's in your head,
Barely touching in our cold bed.
Are you beginning to get my point,
That all this fighting with aching joints,
Is doing nothing but tire us out?
No one knows what this fight's about.

-Snow Patrol


Aubrey parks the car next to a giant wooden fence. It's safe to say that Beca is a little concerned that she doesn't see a restaurant behind it, or any building at all, but, according to Aubrey, what does she know anyway? They grab their bags, Aubrey gets out of the car. Beca takes a moment, wondering if she should plan a self-defense attack, in case this is where Aubrey decides to kill her, then follows suit. There is definitely food somewhere in the vicinity, because it smells delicious. It also smells a lot like flowers.

"So, what is this place?" Beca asks, walking around the car to meet Aubrey.

"The Garden," Aubrey answers simply, and adjusts the strap of her bag over her shoulder.

"And I haven't heard of it before, why?" Beca asks.

"It's only open in Spring and Summer," Aubrey says matter-of-factly, "And this is your first year in Atlanta."

Beca nods. She follows Aubrey to an opening in the fence where a hostess is standing behind a small podium.

"Hey, Aubrey," the hostess greets her with a smile, and looks around. "No Chloe today?"

"Not today," Aubrey answers, "She still has finals."

"Oh! I see you brought a new friend!" The hostess smiles at Beca. "Allison," she introduces herself.

"Uh, Beca," Beca answers, trying to look behind them, past the fence.

"This way, Ladies," Allison says, and leads them inside.

The name fits. The place is a literal garden. There are flowers everywhere. Everything is bright and feminine, and Beca feels out of place in her t-shirt and jeans. There are tables outside, and the only buildings are a small wooden hut where people are cooking and another wooden hut that has a 'Restrooms' sign. It definitely screams 'Aubrey and Chloe' more than it even whispers 'Beca', but it's nice and food is food. "Is everything grown fresh here?" she asks, noticing fruits and vegetables among the mix.

Aubrey sits down at the table Allison leads them to. "You can't exactly grow waffles," she answers.

Beca is about to roll her eyes, but the comment doesn't sound condescending and she realizes, judging by the amused look on Aubrey's face, that Aubrey is joking with her. She raises her eyebrows, impressed. So, Aubrey has a sense of humor.

Allison places two menus on the table. "Enjoy," she says with a soft smile, then walks away.

"I'm going to assume they have more than waffles here," Beca says and picks up the menu. They actually have quite a lot of breakfast options.

"The eggs are good too," Aubrey says and picks up the other menu.

Beca looks over her options. The prices aren't bad either. She can have waffles with a side of eggs, and not break the bank. Hell, she can even get a drink. All of the waffles come with a choice of fruit on top, and she leans back against her chair and tries to make a decision.

"Hey, Aubrey," a male voice breaks the silence, and Beca looks up to see their server. She realizes Aubrey must either really love this place or be their only customer. "Do you guys know what you want to drink?"

"I'll take a caramel latte. Thanks, Mark." Aubrey looks at Beca.

"Oh." Beca quickly scans the drinks. "Yeah, orange juice is good."

Mark jots down their orders in a notepad, and walks away.

"So, you come here often?" Beca asks.

Aubrey glances up, startled, from her menu.

Yeah, okay, that was bad and definitely not what Beca meant. She tries to save herself by grabbing the cheese shaker on the side of the table, and puts it in front of Aubrey. "Too cheesy?" she asks.

Aubrey looks between her and the cheese, frowning.

Maybe Aubrey's sense of humor just isn't the same as Beca's. She smiles awkwardly under Aubrey's judging gaze and places the cheese back where it belongs. "I just mean, everyone here seems to know you," she says.

Aubrey nods. "Chloe and I used to eat breakfast together every morning," she explains, "We've come here a lot over the past few years."

"Used to?" Beca asks.

Aubrey just looks at her and nods again, then looks back down at her menu.

Beca is about to ask why, but it occurs to her that she knows why. Because Chloe insists on getting coffee with her every. single. morning. She wonders if Aubrey knows why Chloe has stopped going, because Aubrey doesn't look pissed at her. Aubrey just takes a breath and puts on an expression that Beca recognizes as her trying to cover up something bothers her. "That sucks," she says weakly and goes back to reading her menu.

Aubrey doesn't say anything else – only glancing up when Mark comes back with their drinks and to take their orders.

Aubrey doesn't even order waffles. She orders a peanut butter, nutella, and banana crepe – which sounds really fucking good, but now Beca feels like she has to order waffles. So she orders waffles with bananas and whipped cream on top, and eggs on the side.

As they're waiting on their food, Beca pulls her phone out of her bag and holds it on her lap, texting Chloe.

Beca: Why dont u get breakfast with Aubrey anymore?

Chloe: what?

Beca: We're at the garden

Chloe: omg u should try the waffles. theyre so good. i get them all the time.

Beca frowns at her phone.

"Who are you texting?" Aubrey asks.

Beca stuffs her phone back into her bag. "No one." She gives Aubrey a tight smile.

Aubrey tilts her head. "So, you're just frowning at your crotch?" she asks, "Is it really that small?"

Aubrey's humor is just fucking confusing; that's what it is. Beca's smile gets even tighter. "Should I whip it out so you can be the judge?" she asks smugly and crosses her legs.

Aubrey scrunches her face in disgust and mouths something that looks a lot like 'gross'. She shoots Beca a frown then examines the flowers beside their table.

How many points does Beca have now? 4? She docks herself the one she just earned, because thinking about Aubrey getting breakfast alone every morning makes her feel kind of like shit, regardless of how she feels about Aubrey. She taps her fingers on the table, trying to determine if she should talk or just accept the silence this time. She doesn't even know what she would say. "I like your car." That seems safe enough.

"Oh." Aubrey looks away from the flowers. "It was a gift from my dad, because we won the finals."

"Seriously?" Beca gives her an incredulous stare. "All my dad gave me was a pat on the back and a 'Good job, Beca.'"

"That must have felt aca-awesome." Aubrey goes back to examining the flowers.

"Yeah, I think I'd rather the new car," Beca says. She leans down and picks up a blue flower that fell off of the plant next to her, then places it on the table. "I didn't even know your dad was there."

"He wasn't," Aubrey says, "He's in Iraq." She looks up as their food comes, and smiles at Mark. "Thank you," she says as he puts their plates down.

Well. That information explains some stuff. "Thanks," Beca says, as Mark lays her plate in front of her. She isn't sure what she's supposed to say – if she's supposed to ask questions, change the subject… "Yeah, uh, sorry, I didn't know." She knew Aubrey's dad was hard on her after their little confessions circle, but not that he was also deployed. "Do you get to talk to him much?"

Aubrey sighs and zeros in on her food, cutting it with the side of her food. "You know, Beca, I had your dad for Advanced Comparative Literate when I was a Freshman," she changes the subject.

"Seriously?" Beca asks, "That must have been torture." Fortunately, she did not have her own father for class. It was hard enough just having him work at the school. She takes a bite of her food, and is suddenly in Aubrey's debt, because of these waffles. "Shit, this is delicious," she says, mouth half full.

"It was a good class," Aubrey says, "I learned a lot." She takes a bite of her food, and chews and swallows before continuing. "His literature and music lesson was very informative."

"Literature and music?" Beca asks, suddenly doubting that Aubrey is actually talking about her dad. He's like Aubrey, and would rather listen to the news than anything else.

"Mhm." Aubrey focuses on her food. "It was mostly about artists who have their songs translated to other languages, and whether or not the meaning really stays the same. Due to Phonology, most songs that have been translated are either inaccurate in meaning and sound good or accurate in meaning but sound bad. It generally has to do with syllabic versus melismatic phonetics."

Yeah, Beca has no idea what she's talking about. "Don't you have to speak like eight languages to take his advanced class?" she asks.

Aubrey looks like she's about to start laughing at her. "You only have to be fluent in three," she answers, "And not any specific ones; diversity is important to the discussion."

Only three. Right. Her bad. "So, what about you?" Beca asks. "Which languages do you speak?" Of course, Aubrey would be fluent in multiple languages. She can probably play about five hundred instruments as well.

"Well, English, obviously," Aubrey says, "I'm also fluent in French and Dutch."

"Why Dutch?" Beca asks.

"My dad was stationed in Holland for a few years when I was a kid," Aubrey answers, "We also lived in Wales, but not long enough for me to be fluent in Welsh." She glances at a squirrel running along under the bushes. "Did you know the Dutch word for squirrel is eekhoorn?"

It occurs to Beca that they're actually having a civil conversation. "I did not," she answers, trying to sound serious, "But that sounds like very important information and I will save it for if I ever need to warn the Dutch about squirrels." She can only imagine the day when she has to just start repeating a word that sounds a lot like 'acorn' over and over at people.

Aubrey suppresses a smile. "You never know when it might come in handy." She takes a sip from her latte.

Beca breathes a laugh. "Hablo Español," she informs she her, "Sort of." She took some Spanish in high school. She can't even remember if it was two or three years now. However many years it was necessary for her to graduate.

"I didn't take Spanish," Aubrey says, "My high school offered multiple language programs, but my schedule was already full."

"What is your major again?" Beca asks, as if she knew before and then forgot. She really never cared before now, but Aubrey is talking to her rather than at her for once, and it wouldn't hurt her to know.

"I'm a dual major – Music Theory and Actuarial Science." Aubrey gives her a challenging smile. "Yours?"

Oh, shit. Beca probably couldn't match that even if she did have a major. "I'm still deciding." She laughs at the ridiculousness that is her actually deciding on a major for next year. "I didn't exactly plan to go to college." Or to stay, and, yet, here she is. Music Theory isn't exactly a bad option…

"Me neither," Aubrey says, causing Beca to stop chewing mid-bite. "No, no, no," she quickly corrects herself, "I did; just not at Barden. I was going to join the Army and study Military Engineering. But my dad said the Army is no place for women, and I always wanted to be a Barden Bella, so I ended up at Barden. He didn't like that either, but it was a lesser of two evils. He would have preferred I accepted the offer from Harvard."

Beca does that even know where to start. There's the fact that Aubrey turned down Harvard to be a Bella, or, "You do know there are plenty of women in the Army, right?"

"I'm aware," Aubrey says tersely.

"Dude, so then why not just enlist?" Beca realizes that her food is getting cold and her drink is getting warm, and tries to focus more on eating.

"My dad said no," Aubrey says.

Beca glances up. "You mean, you actually listened to what somebody else had to say for once?"

Aubrey places her fork down, keeping her hand on top of it, and tilts her head. "I could say the same for you, Beca," she says, frowning, "You clearly didn't want to be at Barden, where your dad forced you to go."

…Point 2 for Aubrey. "Touché," is all Beca can answer with. She realizes she must have hit something with Aubrey, because Aubrey stares down at her food for several seconds before she picks her fork back up and resumes eating, withdrawing from the conversation.