- Part 1 -
Arrhythmia
Is this the end of the moment,
Or just a beautiful unfolding of a love that will never be,
Or maybe be?
Everything that I never thought could happen,
Or ever come to pass and,
I wonder if maybe, maybe I could be,
All you ever dreamed.
-SafetySuit
"Your server will be right with you." Cynthia-Rose disappears back into the building and the door shuts behind her.
Aubrey saunters to the only table with a table cloth, giving up on any hope of escape. She pulls out one of the chairs for Chloe. "This isn't what I had in mind when I asked you on a date."
"I just wonder what's on the menu." Chloe makes a face of concern and sits down as Aubrey pushes her chair back in for her.
Aubrey walks around the table and takes the only other seat – across from Chloe. She picks up a vase of what looks like weeds and places it off to the side, so she can see Chloe better. "Probably fish," she deadpans, holding back a smirk. "Straight from the dock. Maybe it's sushi."
"Shut up, Aubrey." Chloe pulls one of the plants out of the vase and playfully throws it at Aubrey's face.
Aubrey scrunches her face and blocks the plant with her arm. At least Chloe isn't throwing food. She picks up the plant and frowns at the wet spot left by the stem on her pants. "Chloe, you got my pants wet." She rubs at the wet spot, but it doesn't seem to have any effect.
"It's a few drops of water." Chloe rolls her eyes. "That's nothing compared to how wet they're going to be later."
Aubrey's head snaps up and she narrows her eyes, unsure whether she's more turned on or irritated. She decides not to enable Chloe and puts the plant back in the vase where it belongs.
Chloe slides the vase across the small table and buries her nose in the leaves. "It smells like mint."
"It smells disgusting." Aubrey can smell the minty undertones now that Chloe mentioned it, but they're hidden under a much more pungent scent. It isn't entirely unpleasant, but it isn't something Aubrey wants to bury her face in either.
Chloe sniffs the leaves. "I think it's catnip."
Leave it to The Bellas. She'll be damned if they think they can use this date to convince her to throw a kitten shower. "You're lucky it isn't poison ivy."
"I know what poison ivy looks like." Chloe pushes the vase toward Aubrey. "Smell it."
"I don't care what it is." Aubrey blocks the vase's advance with her hands. "I don't want to smell it."
"But it smells like mint." Chloe picks up the vase and leans across the table with it.
"It smells like a skunk wearing perfume." Aubrey tries to slide her chair back but almost topples it over instead. She grabs the table to steady herself and tries to lean to the side away from it. "Gross, Chloe."
"Fine." Chloe puts the vase back down on the edge of the table. "But you're going to have to get used to it when we buy it for our cat."
Aubrey is distressed, by both Chloe insisting they have a cat and that they'll be purchasing items for it together. "We're not getting a cat. That's final." She knows it will never be final with Chloe's unrelenting persistence about it; she just has to hope that something hits Chloe in the head so hard that she gets amnesia and forgets what cats are.
"Mm," Chloe hums, unperturbed.
"We're not," Aubrey says firmly.
"Maybe I'll just get a cat and then you'll just have to deal with it one day when you come home." Chloe smiles sweetly and rests her elbow on the table, her chin on her palm.
Aubrey feels her stomach drop . "No." The prospect suddenly ranks somewhere in her greatest fears. It's not that she's particularly fearful of cats, but she has enough to be responsible for. Cats are just unnecessary pleasantries, created specifically for people who don't have friends. Chloe has plenty of friends. It hits Aubrey that she's the one neighbors would consider the cat lady. "We are never getting a cat. You can have a fish." Fish sre meant for people with friends; they require little care, and they can be shown off to visitors… "If you show up at home with a cat, you and that cat will be looking for a new place to live."
"Great, so the three of us can get a house!" Chloe grins. "I can drive around while it reads the Real Estate section of the newspaper."
This only increases Aubrey's displeasure. "What am I going to do?" She folds her arms tightly against her chest and sinks back against her chair.
"It looks like you're going to spend all of your time complaining that you have a wife, a house, and a cat," Chloe says, a hint of annoyance in her tone. "I don't know how you're going to fit anything else into that busy schedule."
Aubrey opens her mouth to retort, but gets caught up on the whole wife part that Chloe had so casually slipped in there. She sits up and quickly begins straightening the table cloth and moving a lit candle a few inches to the right to take the focus off the conversation. "I wonder what's taking so long." She moves the candle back again. "The service here sucks. If this were a legitimate business, it would have one star on Yelp."
Chloe lowers her hands and looks down for a moment, rubbing her knees. "Yeah." Her smile wavers as she looks in the direction of the door. "Hey, can we at least get some alcohol?!" she shouts.
Aubrey's eyes widen and she quickly looks over the balcony to make sure there's still no one around to notice their presence. The street is empty. She isn't sure if alcohol would make getting caught worse or better at this point. It would at least take her mind off the thoughts of Chloe as her wife suddenly swirling around in her head again. But, also, if she was drunk, it would be even less likely the sheriff would believe her if she had to tell him she had been kidnapped and held hostage on a date against her will. She looks down at her hands, absently tapping her thumb against her fingertips.
"Relax, Aubrey." Chloe reaches across the table and places her hands on top of Aubrey's, giving them a light squeeze.
"I am relaxed." Aubrey realizes she isn't very convincing, but she's as relaxed as she's going to get under the present circumstances. She can't say that she completely hates the prospect of buying a house in the future. It would give them more space. "Where would we even live?" She tries to sound doubtful to cover up her curiosity.
"I don't know." Chloe smiles and looks away in thought. "We could stay in Queens. Or we could move away from the city." She looks at Aubrey and holds up a finger. "But still somewhere we could get the train in."
"Houses are expensive," Aubrey reminds her.
"You're planning to be a lawyer." Chloe rolls her eyes. "I think we can manage a house. Why are you so worried about buying a house?"
"What if we break up?" Aubrey pulls her hands out from under Chloe's and places them down on her lap.
"I don't know." Chloe's smile fades into a lopsided frown. "I'm not really thinking about that."
"Well maybe you should try thinking more." The words come out before Aubrey can stop them. Chloe slides her hands back to her side of the tables and sinks into her chair, and Aubrey mentally kicks herself.
"Yeah," Chloe agrees quietly and looks over the balcony. "I'm sure I could find an apartment if I had to…"
Aubrey looks up, unsure of how the conversation is still going on Chloe's part. She's done talking about it. She plans to avoid any topic that could potentially ruining the night – which feels like every topic she can think of. She tries to swallow away the dryness in her throat. "The weather is nice? " It was meant as a statement, and Aubrey scolds herself again for not getting it right.
Chloe blinks, taken aback. "It's not what I thought it would be."
Aubrey is about to ask what Chloe thought the weather would be like, but she's interrupted when the door opens, and Lilly walks out with a tray containing two cups of water balanced on her head – Fat Amy following close behind her. She looks down at her hands until Lilly mumbles something and she's forced to look up again to try to read her lips. Nothing.
Fat Amy takes the cups from the tray and places them on the table. She lays two sheets of printer paper with handwritten words on them next to the cups.
Lilly mumbles again.
Aubrey frowns and looks at Fat Amy for a translation.
Amy nods at the papers in a not-so-subtle subtle manner.
Chloe is already staring down at her paper, eyes squinted and head comically tilted to the side.
Aubrey picks her paper up and holds it out in front of her.
DRINK MENU
Baileys
Blue Stuff – Gatorade or Windex (not sure on this one)
Fat Amy's Amazing Fruit Punch
*Ice Cubes not available
Aubrey purses her lips together and stares at the list. She thinks the polite thing to do would be to pick something, but none of those options sound particularly promising. "I'm fine."
Lilly says something that sounds a lot like, "Suit yourself."
"Um." Chloe studies the paper, tracing her finger across all the options. "How do you not know if it's Gatorade or Windex?"
"Do not test it, Chloe," Aubrey warns her.
"Bailey's it is," Chloe decides.
"Yeeaah, alcohol it is!" Fat Amy grins and bobs her head. She turns and lifts a hand to high five Aubrey.
Aubrey stares blankly at her hand. "The only other options have a 50% chance of being poison." She feels she can safely assume that Fat Amy's Amazing Fruit Punch is a toxic mix of Windex and Bailey's. She looks back down at the paper, not sure she's ready to flip it over to see the food menu. Chloe, I want to leave. She keeps the words inside her head and imagines cooking in her own kitchen back home, trying to grasp onto some comforting thoughts. They're going to need to buy groceries when they get back.
Lilly mumbles again, then she and Fat Amy walk back in the direction they came from.
Aubrey doesn't take her eyes off them until they disappear through the door. She flips her paper over without looking at it, only able to guess what it says. Chocolate or dog shit – who really knows. "I want to go to DiWine when we go home." She owes herself decent food.
"Okay." Chloe smiles and flips her paper over. "Our flight gets in early enough that we could probably stop for dinner. I want to go to Stardust Diner."
Aubrey smiles. A real smile. "We can do that on a week night. We could see a show first too." Her smile takes on even more sincerity when Chloe grins in excitement. She forces herself to look down at her menu before the bitterness caused by their current situation catches back up with her.
GRUB
Spaghetti
Butter or Sauce
"I think I'm going to have the spaghetti," Chloe jokes lightly, "You?
Aubrey glances up at her. "I think I still need some more time." She smirked and stares at the menu, absently reaching for her cup and taking a drink. Her throat and nose are filled with a burning sensation and she nearly chokes as her body forces her to swallow. Tears sting her eyes and she spins around in her chair, coughing into her arm.
Chloe raises her eyebrows. "You okay?" She kneels in her chair and leans across the table, steadying herself with her arm as she rubs Aubrey's back with her other hand.
Aubrey nods once she overcomes the fear that she may have drank some sort of mysterious cleaning liquid.
Chloe leans back and lifts her own glass. She sniffs it then takes a small sip. She scrunches her face and lowers the glass, nodding her head in approval. "That is straight up vodka." She takes another, longer drink.
Honestly, Aubrey doesn't know why she trusted it to be water. She looks around for some actual water for a moment then gives up, because they're stuck in a closed restaurant with no real wait staff. She sniffles and rubs her nose with her hand, trying to will the burning away. Taking a deep breath, she turns back toward Chloe. "Couldn't they have at least stolen some wine from the ferry?" Her voice is hoarse and she swallows thickly. The door opens, and Aubrey turns to glare at Lilly. "What is wrong with you people?"
Lilly looks up from the tiny bottles of Bailey's she's carrying and locks eyes with Aubrey. "I shed my exoskeleton every night at midnight," she whispers.
God so help her. Aubrey slowly turns back to face Chloe again, barely clinging to her composure. She picks up her glass and takes another drink of vodka, prepared for it this time. The physical burning covers the burning desire to throw herself off the balcony. She forces herself to smile and takes another drink.
"Okay, I think that's enough vodka." Chloe places her hand over the top of Aubrey's glass and pushes her hand down toward the table. "I think we're going to order the spaghetti," she says like they have some sort of choice. "With butter."
No amount of alcohol could possibly be enough at this point. Aubrey is going to say something to upset Chloe. She's going to get caught breaking and entering. She's going to lose any chance she has at a real career. And she's going to lose her fucking mind. She keeps her hand wrapped around the glass after Chloe forces her to put it down. She clenches her teeth, hyper focusing on how warm she suddenly feels.
Lilly trades the bottles of Bailey's for their scraps of paper then leaves without another word – not that anyone would have heard her if she did say something.
Chloe twists open one of the bottles. She stares at it for a moment then hands it out toward Aubrey.
Aubrey lets go of her glass and grabs the bottle from her.
"Spaghetti and Bailey's – this is like my typical Friday night." Chloe gives a small smile and takes another bottle. "Only, you know, with less loud music and the fact that you're here."
Aubrey wrinkles her nose. "Where are you getting spaghetti at the bar, Chloe?"
"I'm not getting spaghetti at the bar, Aubrey," Chloe laughs. "Those, like, microwaveable bags of spaghetti are great when I come home."
Microwaveable spaghetti. "Gross." There is a reason Aubrey tries never to open the cupboards used by Chloe, and that's it. It's because of microwaveable junk. Aubrey takes a sip from the bottle, welcoming anything that isn't vodka. Bailey's burns her throat significantly less.
"It's not gross." Chloe practically downs her bottle in one swallow. "Your health bars are gross."
"Well, then, maybe you should stop eating them. I keep telling you that." Aubrey downs the rest of the bottle, already starting to feel slightly buzzed. She places the empty bottle on the table and exhales a long sigh. What do people even talk about on dates with someone they've already lived with for years? It can't be microwaveable spaghetti and health bars, but conversation about the weather didn't exactly play out like she had hoped either. "What if we're just not compatible enough to live together?" she blurts out.
"We already live together," Chloe reminds her, speaking slowly in her teacher voice. "We've done fine this far."
"Have we?" Aubrey asks.
xxxxx
Aubrey stared down at her textbook, rereading a sentence for the seventeenth time without it sinking in. She wasn't even tired, just unfocused, able to concentrate more on the steady rhythm of her fingers tapping the kitchen table than the words in front of her. Chloe had finally stopped crying to Beca on the phone about Beca's decision to give up on them, but the silence was just as uncomfortable. She didn't even care that Beca was gone; she just wanted everything to return to normal – where Chloe was her typical bubbly self and that was what was preventing her from studying. But Chloe was (rightfully) upset and angry, and everything felt all wrong. She moved onto the next sentence, willing this one to register in her head.
"Maybe we weren't meant to be together." Chloe wandered into the kitchen, tears clinging to her face, a bottle of liquor in hand. She placed the bottle hard down on the kitchen table then laid her hands down flat on either side of it.
That was Aubrey's cue that she might as well give up on studying. She sighed to herself and closed the book then looked up at Chloe. Suggesting that she and Beca weren't meant for each other might have been the most logical thing Chloe had said in weeks. Aubrey folded her arms over the book and patiently waiting for wherever Chloe's inevitable dramatic monologue would go next, so she could assess how to go on with damage control.
"You and Beca weren't meant to be together." Chloe's words slurred together, but even drunk, Aubrey couldn't say she was wrong. "Maybe me and Beca weren't meant to be together either." She swallowed hard. "Maybe even you and me aren't even meant to be together."
The statement caught Aubrey off guard and she was tempted to look behind her to see who else Chloe might be speaking to. "O-oh." The word came out high-pitched and unsure. She was still sure if she looked around she might find another person, an explanation, some hint she had fallen asleep and was caught in a dream. But this was real. The air suddenly felt heavy and tears stung Aubrey's eyes almost as painfully as Chloe's words stung her. Chloe was drunk – Aubrey knew that much, but usually drunk Chloe was trying to get in her pants, not trying to break up with her. Even when they were fighting and Chloe was sober, she never went that route. She suddenly felt like she was going to throw up. Needing to extricate herself from the situation, she sprung to her feet and grabbed her book, walking swiftly to the stand beside the door to grab her car keys.
"Aubrey, wait, that's not what I meant." Chloe's voice suddenly sounded rushed and panicked. "I am so sorry."
Did Chloe think she could just apologize and the last few seconds would vanish into thin air? Of course she did, because when everything boiled down to Beca, Aubrey's feelings suddenly were no longer relevant. Aubrey spun to face her, but could barely look at her. "But that's what you said." She grabbed her keys and flung the door open then slammed it behind her.
xxxxx
"Aubrey, I am sorry for that night, okay?" Chloe pinches the bridge of her nose and clenches her jaw. "I'm sorry. I wish I could take it back."
Aubrey runs her fingers along the edge of the tablecloth, picking at the hem. She wishes Chloe could take it back, too. But nothing Chloe could say would reverse them back to that night so things could change. Maybe trying again was a bad idea.
Chloe slides her chair out and stands up.
Aubrey looks up, half expecting Chloe to turn around and walk out. But she doesn't. Instead, she walks around the table and manages to squeeze herself between Aubrey and the table – sitting on Aubrey's lap with her arms wrapped around Aubrey's neck. It's too much of a struggle to look Chloe in the eye, so Aubrey just stares past her at the table cloth – focusing on the swirl of dark Autumn-y colors.
For a moment, Chloe is silent and motionless. She pulls Aubrey into a tight hug, their cheeks pressed together. "I love you, Aubrey." She pulls back and presses her lips against Aubrey's, seemingly unconcerned about the precision of their lipstick.
Aubrey hesitates a moment, torn from the table cloth and getting caught up in the present moment of Chloe's close proximity to her and the warmth of their mouths pressed together. She doesn't want it to end. That's the problem. Realizing that she's frozen awkwardly with her lips pressed tightly closed, she parts her lips so Chloe doesn't get the wrong idea and places on hand on the back of Chloe's head. She suddenly feels distant and has to draw Chloe in closer to feel more than just physical sensations.
"Dessert is on the menu!" Fat Amy announces out of nowhere.
Aubrey jolts backward, nearly knocking her entire chair back in the process. She briefly locks eyes with Chloe then looks down, trying to process her feelings. She pulls out her phone and looks at herself in the dark reflection, then grabs a napkin and tries to fix her makeup.
Chloe slowly eases herself from Aubrey's lap and circles back around the table to her own seat. She wipes her smudged lipstick with her thumb as she sits down. "The spaghetti smells good," she says, uncharacteristically quiet. She folds her hands on the table, her lips settling in an unsure smile.
Fat Amy walks over to the table and places a giant pot of spaghetti between them. Lilly puts two empty plates with forks on top in front of each of them and mumbles something that Aubrey doesn't bother trying to hear. "I need to see your phone," Amy says and holds her hand out in Chloe's direction.
"My phone?" Chloe gives her a perplexed glance then looks in Aubrey's general direction. "Why?"
At least Chloe has the good judgement not to give her phone up to one of The Bellas. Aubrey arches a brow and frowns at Amy. "What happened to your phone?"
"I can't leave my phone here," Fat Amy answers like it's the most obvious reason.
Chloe hesitates for a brief moment then hands her phone to Amy.
So much for good judgement. Aubrey places her elbow on the table and buries her face against her hand, slowly shaking her head. "For serious, Chloe?"
"What?" Chloe asks.
Aubrey lifts head just enough to shoot her an agitated glare.
Fat Amy fiddles with Chloe's phone, moving it closer then further from her face as she stares at it with one eye then two.
Aubrey folds her arms on the table and narrows her eyes at Amy.
"Aca-found it!" Fat Amy sings.
"Found what?" Chloe asks eagerly.
"Hopefully, her MapQuest directions out of here," Aubrey answers.
Fat Amy sets the phone on the table between Aubrey and Chloe, using a candle to prop it upright. "We set up a place for sex on the other side of the balcony."
Aubrey maintains a straight face, still staring at Amy.
"See you two lovebirds tomorrow." Fat Amy takes several steps backwards toward the door. "Crushed it," she whispers to herself.
"You're not sticking around to clean up?" Aubrey asks, feeling her blood pressure rising.
Fat Amy stares at her for a fraction of a second then turns and bolts out the door.
Aubrey exhales a slow not-so-calming breath and glances at Chloe then looks down at Chloe's phone. A picture of Lady and the Tramp eating a spaghetti noodle stares back at her.
"That's cute." Chloe's voice sounds irritatingly gleeful. "But I don't know if I trust this spaghetti."
Aubrey flips Chloe's phone over and looks into the pot. "I'm not eating that." Her stomach rumbles and she realizes she sounds like a petulant child, but really, she's not eating that. She would rather have ice cream again over whatever might have joined the spaghetti in that pot.
Chloe glances around then stands up and looks over the balcony and looks up and down the street. She winks at Aubrey then picks up the pot and dumps the spaghetti over the edge of the balcony.
Aubrey leaps to her feet and watches at the spaghetti splatters on the ground. "Chloe!"
"What?" Chloe smiles innocently and places the pot back on the table. "I was trying to let the breeze cool it off. It slipped." She picks up her phone. "Let's check out the other side of the balcony."
"Or," Aubrey suggests firmly, "we could go find somewhere else to eat. I'm hungry."
Chloe places both hands on the table and leans across it toward Aubrey. "I know something you can eat." She picks up Aubrey's glass of vodka and hands it to her. "Drink this and let's go."
Aubrey grabs the glass out of her hand. The alcohol. The lack of food. She's really already beginning to feel a bit fuzzy. "I meant real food, Chloe. Not – not that." She swallows another burning sip of vodka.
"I was talking about going to raid the kitchen." Chloe smirks. "What are you insinuating?"
"I know exactly what you were talking about." Aubrey has to take another drink. "You want me to eat you out." That's the vodka talking for her now. She takes one more small sip then puts the glass down. Her insides feel like they're on fire – but not entirely in a bad way.
"Well, I wouldn't say no." Chloe places a plate over the candle holder to starve it of oxygen then grabs Aubrey's hand and pulls her away from the table. "And since you offered so nicely…"
"What?" Aubrey squints at the floor. Did she offer? No, no, she definitely did not. But Chloe is already dragging her across the balcony, around the side of the building. She digs her heels into the ground when she sees what's been set up for them – a blanket surrounded by some wooden crates with white Christmas lights haphazardly draped over them. She must already be tipsy because the dirty ground and poorly set up crates blocking their view from anyone who might happen to walk by looks almost romantic. Suddenly, she's caught up in several of her own conflicting thoughts. "Why can't we just have sex back in the room after we get some dinner?"
"Oh my god," Chloe blurts out.
"I can still do whatever you want me to do to you," Aubrey says.
"Aubrey, not that."
Not that? That is literally what they walked around the building for.
"Look." Chloe nudges Aubrey's side with her elbow then walks away from her.
Aubrey looks up. She watches Chloe walk over the balcony edge. Leaning against it is a guitar. It takes Aubrey a moment to process why it looks so familiar. "Where did that come from?" she asks, refusing to believe it's the same instrument she was harassing Beca over earlier. Thinking about it, there's no reason Beca wouldn't help The Bellas out with this – except for maybe her intense hatred for Aubrey and the fact she was Chloe's ex (technically Aubrey's too, but the whole hatred thing outweighed that).
"How am I supposed to know?" Chloe rolls her eyes. "Cynthia-Rose and Fat Amy probably put it here."
Right. Aubrey grabs her phone out of her bag and quickly shoots Beca a text. 'why did you do that?' She stuffs her phone back into her bag and walks over to sit down on one of the crates. She misjudges something upon sitting down and nearly knocks the crate over and falls sideways. Chloe is fortunately too engulfed in the guitar to notice. Her phone vibrates inside her bag and she quickly digs it back out to read Beca's response.
'do what ?'
For serious? Aubrey fights the urge to roll her eyes. It would be a waste of energy without Beca around to see it. 'Dont be stupid. ypu know what'
'ypu? Omg are you buzzed? '
Aubrey rereads her text. 'shut up. This is how you always text.. Why?'
'because im a nice person who does nice things, aubrey. :) :) :) arent you supposed to be with chloe right now?'
"Who are you talking to?" Chloe asks, walking over with the guitar in tow.
"No one." Aubrey quickly shoves her phone back in her bag and looks at the guitar. "And I hate bees."
"Okay? I thought we liked bees after earlier, but okay, Random." Chloe gives her a look that indicates to Aubrey she clearly thinks she's getting drunk then sits down on the blanket and leans back against the building. She smiles and works on making sure the guitar is tuned.
Aubrey leans against the slightly higher stack of crates next to her and rests her head against the wood, absently watching Chloe's fingers.
"Why do we need food?" Chloe asks. "We have shots, serenades, and sex."
Aubrey has yet to see any of those considering Chloe singing on the balcony wasn't really a serenade and her vodka came to her in a water glass.
Chloe shifts to sit more comfortably against the wall and strums the guitar.
You lift my heart up when the rest of me is down.
You, you enchant me,
Even when you're not around.
If there are boundaries,
I will try to knock them down.
I'm latching on, Babe,
Now I know what I have found.
"Who is that?" Aubrey interrupts her.
"Who is that?" Chloe repeats. "Oh my god, Aubrey, that's Sam Smith. Do you not even know who Sam Smith is?"
Aubrey looks up at the sky, trying to think.
Chloe just shakes her head.
I feel we're close enough.
Could I lock in your love?
I feel we're close enough.
Could I lock in your love?
"Wait!" Aubrey has a realization. "He sings that Body Like A Back Road song you listen to."
"Close." Chloe slowly shakes her head. "That's Sam Hunt."
"Oh."
Now I've got you in my space,
I won't let go of you.
Got you shackled in my embrace,
I'm latching onto you.
I'm so encaptured,
Got me wrapped up in your touch.
Feel so enamored,
Hold me tight within your clutch.
How do you do-
"Oh, the guy from Jurassic Park," Aubrey tries again.
"The guy from Jurassic Park?" Chloe asks.
Aubrey nods. "Also, he did something with Pulp Fiction."
"Samuel L. Jackson?"
"Mhm." Aubrey nods again.
"Okay, no, Aubrey, he doesn't even sing." Chloe frowns at her.
"Are you sure?" Aubrey asks.
"Yes?" Chloe looks back down at the guitar.
How do you do it?
You got me losing every breath.
What did you give me to make my heart beat out of my chest?
"Samuel Adams!" Aubrey announces confidently. She smiles, knowing this answer is correct.
Chloe drops the guitar on her lap and lowers her head, pinching the bridge of her nose. "That's a Founding Father."
"Sam Hornish, Jr?"
The NASCAR driver?" Chloe lifts her head. "Aubrey, you're just listing people named Sam now."
Is she? "I'm trying to answer your question," Aubrey reminds her, slightly irritated now.
"It was a rhetorical question." Chloe taps her fingers on the face of the guitar. "You're making it really hard to be romantic right now. You're making it really difficult to play the guitar in general."
"Sam Neill?" Aubrey gives it one last shot. "He was also in Jurassic Park."
"Oookay." Chloe pushes the guitar off to the side. She grabs Aubrey's hands and pulls her from the crates to the blanket. "Yes, all of the guys in Jurassic Park named Sam have a band and they call it Sam Smith."
That's kind of weird. The Smith part makes no sense. Aubrey kneels down on the blanket and sits back on her ankles. "If that's the case, then why wasn't Jurassic Park a musical?"
"Probably because they ran into copyright issues with the people who created Barney. Let's just move on from this, please." Chloe sits up on her knees, closing the distance between their bodies. She brushes her lips against Aubrey's. "No more talking about people named Sam."
Aubrey hums in agreement, distracted by how warm everything around her feels. Her eyes flutter closed on their own accord as Chloe's lips graze hers again then press gently against her lower lip.
xxxxx
'Where are you?'
'The café.'
Of course, he was at the café. He practically lived there. It was almost like the place was always open solely for him. But it wasn't exactly a terrible thing. He was always there whenever they needed to study.
'I'm on my way there.'
'See you soon.'
Aubrey scrubbed the tears away from her eyes and slammed the car door shut. She jammed the key into the ignition and yanked the gearshift as hard as she could. Screw Beca. Screw Chloe. Her own thoughts made her feel sick. Really though. Screw Chloe. She pulled out of the apartment complex parking lot and onto the street, trying to forget the events of the last few minutes so she could focus on the damn road. Screw Chloe.
The café was only a few minutes away. It was named Yaaas Queens, Coffee!, and it was not a place one would expect to see Aubrey Posen hanging out at. It was loud and flamboyant, and the pastries attracted every gay, straight, and sexually unsure person in Queens. It seemed more like a place Chloe would frequent. Fortunately, it was only slammed with people during breakfast and lunch. Nighttime, it was always dead – which is probably why Chloe never went there. The quiet nights and delicious food (Aubrey would admit, it was good food) made it an ideal place for studying, so it made sense that Brian was always there.
The drive went by before Aubrey had time to realize she was already there. She pulled into the empty parking lot. The lights inside were dim, and between the rainbow stickers placed randomly all over the windows, she could see Brian sitting at table near the wall. Conrad, the café owner, and presumably the only worker from what Aubrey could ever see, was building a tower out of wooden coffee stirrers on the counter next to the register. The familiarity was a welcome relief and she wiped her eyes one more time before grabbing her book and stepping out of the car.
Conrad looked up as Aubrey walked in and the bell above the door jingled. "Hey, Aubs."
Aubrey shot him a look. It didn't matter how many times Aubrey told him not to call her that, he still did. "Hey." She considered ordering something – after all, it was the polite thing to do – but she suddenly didn't feel very hungry or thirsty. She gave Conrad a nod of acknowledgement then walked across the room and sat down across from Brian. Silently, she opened her book and tried to remember what she had been reading.
Brian looked up from his book. It took a moment before Aubrey realized he was staring.
"What?" she asked tersely.
"Are you crying?" Brian asked. He slowly closed his book, sliding his bookmark between the pages as it shut.
"No." Aubrey sniffled. "It's very cold outside."
Brian stared at her for a second longer before looking in Conrad's direction.
Conrad put down a handful of stirrers and ducked under the counter to join them. "Boy troubles?" he asked. He sat down on the chair next to her and casually draped his arm over her shoulder, ignoring the way her muscles tensed at the physical contact.
"Why do you always assume when someone is upset, it's because of boy troubles?" Brian asked.
"Good point." Conrad frowned. "Girl troubles?"
"That's not what I meant," Brian stated flatly.
Conrad rolled his eyes and rested his elbow on the table, leaning his head against his hand. "Ignore him," he told Aubrey. "His troubles are clearly communication based." He shot Brian one more glance. "Sashay away, my socially inept friend, and allow me to commiserate."
"I communicate just fine," Brian commented.
Conrad raised his eyebrows. "Do you?" he whispered.
Brian stood up and dragged his chair around the table until it was next to Aubrey's. "What's up? It's not fucking cold out."
"See what I mean?" Conrad asked Aubrey.
Aubrey couldn't fight back a faint smirk. She nodded in agreement. Finally, someone who managed to be blunter than she was. It was a breath of fresh air, really. She felt herself relax a bit, and suddenly the feeling of Conrad's hand rubbing up and down her shoulder was a little more comforting and a little less awkward. "Girl troubles," she admitted, voicing it in barely above a whisper. How many people did she talk about her relationship with Chloe with? She couldn't think of anyone. But, if she was going to, what better place than in a gay coffee shop? Did she not talk about them because they were both girls – would it be different if Chloe was a guy? She never really thought about it, so she didn't really know. She drew in a shaky breath and wiped off her cheeks, fighting to maintain her composure.
"Wait, you're gay?" Brian asked.
Conrad lifted his hand from Aubrey and backhanded Brian's shoulder. "You don't just ask people if they're gay." His arm fell back down across Aubrey's back and he scooted close to her. "But, oh my god, are you?"
"What?!" Brian clutched his shoulder. "I never would have guessed!"
"Brian!" Conrad admonished him.
Brian slammed his hands down on the table. "You know what? I need coffee."
Aubrey looked back and forth between them. "I don't really want to talk about it." She folded her hands on top of her book, suddenly less focused on the night's events. "I could use some coffee, too."
Conrad sighed. "Fine." He scooted away and pressed both of his hands against the table to push himself up. "But only because I work here. Why do I work here?" He shook his head and walked back to the counter then ducked back under it.
"Rent money," Brian deadpanned.
"Wrong, Brian!" Conrad stood up behind the counter comedically fast. "It's because of passion, Brian! Passion!" He raised one of his hands in the air and twirled around on his way to the coffee pot. "I stay up all night serving you coffee because of passion!"
"Right." Brian shared a look with Aubrey then scooted his chair back to the other side of the table and reopened his book. "Don't forget the extra cream!"
Aubrey stared at her crossed her arms then lowered her head to rest her chin on them.
Screw Chloe.
