- Part 1 -
Arrhythmia
There now, steady love, so few come and don't go.
Will you, won't you, be the one I'll always know?
When I'm losing my control, the city spins around;
You're the only one who knows, you slow it down.
-The Fray
There are leaves everywhere – the brown, crunchy kind that require being stepped on by any and all passersby. They cover the sidewalks and the streets, falling from the trees that are growing out of the middle of the road. Queens looks like a post-apocalyptic ghost town – but it feels so normal, like she walks the streets like this everyday, handgun in hand, her father walking close behind her. The leaves crackle under her sneakers, but she can't hear them. She can only feel them with every step she takes as the street she lives on stretches on for miles and miles. She knows this is where she lives, but the apartment buildings look so unfamiliar. Each building is identical to the last – dark and empty, like their residents randomly up and left years ago, leaving behind their belongings and taking all the livelihood. The only person she has ever seen here, apart from herself and her father, has been Chloe. She can picture her in their dark, sepia-toned apartment, sitting on a chair in their living room, looking absent.
Aubrey isn't sure how, but she knows her father has stopped walking, and she stops too. She stares straight ahead, watching the leaves slowly drift through the wind. They settle on the ground among the others, making it impossible to see beneath them. She knows that she's been here time and time again, but she feels turned around and lost, like maybe she already passed her apartment building without realizing it. She can't ask her father if he knows where they are. She knows that she's supposed to be leading the way. It feels like a test. But she forgot to study. She spins around and stares down an identical street, and suddenly she's not so sure if she lives here. But she has walked this way a hundred thousand times to get home. She turns in a full circle, realizing that she's in the middle of a four way intersection where everything looks exactly the same.
"You have this, Aubrey," her father suddenly states, "It's a straight shot."
Aubrey looks over at him then follows his gaze to several feet away where a deer lays collapsed in the leaves. It doesn't move. She can't even see it breathe. She frowns and narrows her eyes in confusion, her hand tightening on the gun. The metal feels slippery and she moves to hold it with both hands. "It's already dead." She recoils from the sight of it and tries to turn away, but the world turns with her and she continues to stare straight ahead at it, no matter which way she looks. In the back of her mind, it occurs to her that Chloe can't see this. She has to hide it. The only thing she can think to do is bury it with leaves.
"Shoot the god damn deer, Aubrey." Her father's voice is flat – void of any emotion.
"It's already dead," Aubrey repeats. Her voice is heavy and exhausted, and her words feel physically hot in her mouth. She hesitates then walks over to it, kneeling on the ground next to its legless body. She can't look at it. If she does, she'll puke. She places the gun down beside her and grabs a handful of leaves, dumping them over the deer's body. The leaves are wet and when she pulls them from the ground, the dirt beneath is soaked in crimson that sticks to her hands. She grabs another handful. And another. And another. Someone kneels down across from her on the other side of the deer and begins to help her shovel the leaves over its lifeless body. She looks up, still picking up handfuls of brown leaves that break in her hands, and comes face to face with Beca. Beca doesn't look at her. She just keeps grabbing leaves. But hers aren't covered in blood.
"What did you do, Aubrey?" Chloe walks up beside her out of nowhere. Her voice is calm and she stares down at the pile of leaves in bewilderment.
"Nothing." Aubrey quickly scrambles to her feet and hides her hands behind her back. "Nothing. We have to go." Beca is still behind her, robotically grabbing leaves, and Aubrey steps in front of Chloe to block her view of the scene. She can feel the blood dripping from her fingertips. She clasps her hands together and then tries to subtly kick the gun underneath the foliage. Shame clings to her. She can feel it so much that she's scared Chloe might be able to feel it in her too. The air feels like water, and she can smell the metallic scent of blood as she breathes it in. It turns to liquid in her airways and drips down into her chest. She meets Chloe's eyes and the pity in them nearly sends her to the ground. "I'm sorry."
"Does it really matter?" Tyler asks.
Aubrey didn't realize he was standing a few feet behind Chloe. Gravity shifts. She feels like she's being pulled in Chloe's direction, but everything else is moving in that direction as well. It's similar to vertigo, but in a way that she wishes she could move faster and collapse into Chloe's arms.
Tyler steps onto a chair and grabs the end of a noose connected to a tree branches above him. He fastens it around his neck. "You're next." He pauses. "Or maybe she is." He reaches out and grabs Chloe by the hood of her jacket, pulling her closer to him.
Aubrey feels frozen to the ground. She doesn't feel panicked. She doesn't feel calm. She doesn't feel anything. Just frozen and unable to breathe. She locks eyes with Tyler. They both know that Chloe had nothing to do with any of this. She can feel it in the space between them as they share a mutual understanding.
Tyler releases Chloe, who is still staring at Aubrey with too much sympathy for Aubrey to bear. He pulls a gun from his back pocket and points it directly at Aubrey's head. "It's not a loop, Aubrey." He smiles, his eyes slowly turning a deep shade of red. "It's nothing."
The panic finally creeps up behind her like a dark shadow. Suddenly, she can hear the leaves as Beca picks them up. She isn't ready for this to end. Her gazes darts from the gun to Chloe, who is staring at her in terror. They had all this time and Aubrey wasted it. She wasted it. Wedding of the Winds creaks out of the breeze, the music surrounding her like it's made of air itself. She shakes her head, tears welling up in her eyes. "I need more time." She can't take her eyes off of Chloe, unable to comprehend not being able to see her again – not experiencing anything at all. Nothing. She grabs onto each second as it comes, trying to cling to it so it can't leave. Her breaths come in short, desperate gasps. She doesn't know which will be her last. Chloe is standing in the same place, but Aubrey can feel her drifting farther away. "Chloe, I'm sorry." Tyler pulls the trigger before she has a chance to tell her she loves her.
Aubrey's body goes numb and then disappears completely as she falls into complete darkness. She tries to scream, but she has no voice. Wedding of the Winds is the only thing she can hear. It's so loud, it's like it's coming from everywhere around her. She tries to cling to thoughts of Chloe. And then the music stops. And Chloe disappears. And she stops. And she isn't anything anymore.
Suddenly there isn't just nothing, and Aubrey latches onto consciousness the very second her mind starts to wake up. She frantically kicks at the blankets that have her tangled up, crashing the top of her head into the backboard of the bed with a strangled yelp as all of her senses hit her at once. Someone grabs her shoulders and Aubrey jerks backward against the headboard again, her eyes still clamped shut tight. She puts up a fight in a moment of panic, arching her back and trying to roll away from being held down. But she isn't being held down. She's pulled upright and arms wrap around her in a tight hug that sways her side to side.
"Aubrey. It's okay. It's just a dream." Chloe presses her lips against the side of Aubrey's head. "It's okay."
Aubrey stops thrashing, freezing up before slowly beginning to get her bearings. She sinks forward against Chloe, praying it is all a dream, before slowly opening her eyes. She's met with the sight of the inn's bedroom rather than her own. She closes her eyes again in defeat and tucks her face against Chloe's shoulder. Exhaustion renders her unguarded, and she stays still as Chloe continues rocking side to side, absently rubbing the strap of Chloe's tank top with her fingertips as she tries to adjust to being awake with memories from the night before resurfacing one right after another. Tyler. Beca slapping her. The deer. Her muscles tense and she realizes how nauseated she still is.
"Hey." Chloe pulls back and kisses Aubrey's cheek. "My mom called earlier. She wants you to FaceTime her when you get up."
"What?" Aubrey rubs her face then forces herself to open her eyes, resisting the urge to resituate herself so she can continue using Chloe's shoulder as a pillow. It takes effort to hold herself upright so she rests her arms on Chloe's shoulders for extra support and stares down at their laps, taking a few moments to process what Chloe is telling her. "Why?"
"She got all worried when she realized I was awake before you." Chloe brushes Aubrey's hair away from her face. "I told her you just had a stomachache, and she wants to make sure you're okay. You know how she is." She continues playing with Aubrey's hair, running her fingers through it and working out some of the tangles. "Also, Dad saw an alligator while he was out fishing and he wants to tell his favorite child how big it was or something."
Aubrey presses her lips together, her thoughts travelling in a thousand different directions. Reality slowly starts to set back in. She doesn't really want to miss out on a fishing tale from Chloe's dad. "How big was it?" she asks, trying to seem only slightly intrigued.
"I don't know, Honey. I don't care about Dad's alligator stories." Chloe kisses her cheek again. "You're going to have to call him if you want to know." She feels around under the blankets and pillows on the bed until she retrieves Aubrey's phone from where it was tossed the night before. "You're up now, so call my mom before she gets mad at me." She holds out Aubrey's phone.
Aubrey looks at it and weighs her options. She could not call, and let Chloe face her mother's wrath and get accused of forgetting to tell Aubrey to call her – which might actually be entertaining. But then she would miss out on a good fishing tale. Or, she could just swallow her pride and let Chloe's mom make a fuss over her. The problem with Chloe's mom is that she isn't anything like Aubrey's mother. Chloe's mom actually cares. It's not just a show for the general public. It's never obvious how she wants Aubrey to respond to her. She can follow the script her own mother directs. Chloe's mom expects her to be a master of improv, and, more often than not, Aubrey isn't sure she's saying anything Mrs. Beale wants to hear.
"Aubrey, call my mom before she beats me." Chloe grabs one of Aubrey's hands and presses her phone into her palm. She pulls away and steps off the bed.
Aubrey rolls her eyes. "How is she going to beat you?" Her voice is hoarse from sleeping and crying, and she clears her throat. It doesn't help much. "She's on the other side of the country." Not that Chloe's mom would beat her even if she was close enough to do it. She has seen Chloe's parents smack Chloe upside the head a few times for being lazy or showing an attitude though. The memories almost make Aubrey smirk, because she's pretty sure Chloe's embarrassment over her parents popping her in front of Aubrey was more punishing to her than the actual being hit part. Facing a blow from her father's hand was a mercy for Aubrey, because her father generally preferred to tan her hide with a leather belt.
Chloe gives Aubrey a look of terror. "She has ways." She kneels down on the floor where she has their suitcases open and seems to have been trying to pack their things. "So call her for my safety, please."
Aubrey refrains from telling Chloe she's going to need to start fearing for her safety if she doesn't pick up the mess on the floor. "Can you try to pack neatly, Chloe?" Honestly, Aubrey understands why Chloe's parents have resorted to smacking her, because Chloe ignores her and keeps trying to shove things in their suitcases in a way they're clearly not going to fit. She sighs with resignation and accepts that she's going to have to redo Chloe's handiwork. Frowning, she gathers the pillows on the bed and uses them to prop herself up then covers up with the blanket. She could always just tell on her. She unlocks her phone and locates Chloe's mom in her contacts then sends her a video call.
It takes a ring and a half for Chloe's mom to answer the phone. "Hey, Bunny!" she gushes sympathetically, "How are you feeling?"
Aubrey side eyes Chloe before looking at her phone again. She takes a deep breath, building up the confidence in her tone. "I'm fine." She gives her a tight lipped smile to back up her statement. "How are you?"
Chloe's mom leans back in her office chair and raises an eyebrow. "Knock the walls down, Bunny," she says calmly, "You're supposed to be the kid that doesn't lie to me."
"I don't lie," Chloe cuts in.
"No one is talking to you right now, Chlo," her mom says without missing a beat, "I just talked to you for an hour and a half. And I am going to know if you glare at this phone."
Chloe ducks her head and keeps packing.
Aubrey's forced smile fades into a frown and she looks away from the phone, wishing she could pass the phone to Chloe and fade into the background. She quickly tries thinking of an excuse to hang up the phone. She looks up again when she can't think of one, hoping Chloe's mom will read her as well as Chloe does and get the hint that she's ready to end the conversation before she can mess up again. Or that Chloe will help her out by catching an attitude and distracting her mom.
"Let's try again without shutting down on me," Chloe's mom says, "How are you feeling?"
Aubrey looks down and sinks into the pillows, scratching at the corner of her phone with her thumbnail. She can feel Chloe looking at her, and suddenly she just feels like crying. "I feel like I'm going to throw up and I want to go home," she admits, much to her chagrin. She suddenly isn't sure she did enough to hide the pique in her voice and she quickly prepares herself to deal with being called out on her tone.
"Are you drinking enough water?" Chloe's mom asks. "Drink enough water that you don't get dehydrated. And try to eat some soup or some rice. And make sure you're resting."
Aubrey lulls her head sideways against one of the pillows as she listens to all of the instructions, thankful that Chloe's mom isn't asking if she has a bug or if she's stressed. She watches Chloe stuff a shirt into one of their suitcases. "Chloe, stop," she demands, her skin crawling at the thought of trying to unpack when they get home. She's going to have to iron everything.
Chloe's mom sighs. "What is that girl doing now?"
Chloe's head snaps up. "Seriously, Aubrey?" She yanks the shirt back out of the bag and hides it behind her back. "You're going to tell on me for packing?"
Seriously. Because Aubrey will be damned if she has to repack their suitcases and then iron all of their outfits. "She says she's packing. But she's just throwing things into bags. She's not even separating what's mine and what's hers."
Chloe's jaw drops. "Because not everything would fit. Who cares? We live in the same house!"
Aubrey glowers at her. Clearly, she cares. "It all fit on the way here." She turns the phone so Chloe's mom can see her lazy excuse for packing.
"Chloe Beale, have I not taught you how to fold clothes several thousand times?" Her mom asks.
"This isn't even about folding clothes, Mommy. She's literally just tattling on me so you'll stop accosting her about being sick." Chloe slaps the shirt she's holding on the ground.
"No, I'm telling your mom, because I don't want to unpack the suitcases like that when we get home," Aubrey defends herself.
Chloe gives her a knowing glare.
Okay. So maybe it partially has to do with changing the subject away from herself. But, also, it still has to do with the way Chloe is packing. Aubrey glares back at her.
"Pick up the shirt that you just threw on the ground and fold it, Chloe, now," her mom commands.
Chloe picks up the shirt. "Okay, but - "
"Now," her mom enforces.
"Okay, I'm folding it! Look!" Chloe holds up the shirt and folds it with exaggerated movements. She rolls her eyes and places it on the ground in front of her then pulls another unfolded shirt out of a suitcase.
"Roll your eyes at me again, Chlo, and you're not going to have eyes to roll."
Chloe's eyes widen for a moment. She grimaces and looks down, her lower lip jutting out in a pout as she folds the next shirt with more attentiveness. "You guys are so mean," she mumbles.
"What was that, Pumpkin?" her mom asks.
Chloe glances up, swallowing hard. "Nothing." She places the shirt on top of the other one. "I didn't say anything."
Chloe's mom makes a humming noise in response. "Be good. I love you."
Chloe wrinkles her nose.
Aubrey realizes that she's going to have to turn the phone around eventually, and she makes the decision to do it before she has to be told. She bends her knees and holds it against her legs, refocusing on her face.
"Don't think you're off the hook," Chloe's mom says, "Remember to drink water, and call me if you need anything – even just someone to sit with you if Chlo is busy."
Aubrey can't help but wonder what Chloe could possibly be busy with. She nods.
"Good. And also - "
"Is that Aubrey?" Chloe's dad cuts her off, walking up behind her. He grabs the phone out of her hand and holds it up to his face, a bit too close. "Hey, Champ!"
Aubrey can hear Chloe's mom sigh in the background. She fights back a smile, ready for another fishing story. "Hi, Dad." It hits her every time how naturally she can say that now. It only took all four years of college with Chloe's parents adamantly insisting she call them Mom and Dad, for reasons unbeknownst to her. She's never heard any of Chloe's other friends calling her parents Mom and Dad. "Chloe said you went fishing."
"Fishing? More like gatoring! You shoulda been there, Kiddo." He beams. "I was out on the lake baiting my hook with one of those night crawlers – you know the ones we always get at the store, those big juicy fat ones. Best ones for fishing."
Aubrey nods.
"Ew." Chloe places a stack of folded shirts in one of their suitcases.
"Ew is right, Chlo," her mom chimes in. "No one wants to hear this kind of story, Noah."
"Aubrey wants to hear it," he replies, "Dontcha?"
"Mhm." Aubrey nods again and sits up a bit.
"You two are gross," Chloe says.
"I'm going to remember you said that, Chloe." Aubrey glances in her direction and frowns at her. Specifically, she's going to remember Chloe said that next time she's begging for sex. Sorry. Can't have sex with you. You think I'm gross, remember?
Chloe heaves a dramatic sigh and folds a pair of pants.
"So, I was baiting my hook with one of those night crawlers," he continues. "And I saw this movement out of the corner of my eye. I thought it was a fish, so I cast my line in that direction!"
Aubrey leans forward further and turns the volume up on her phone. "What was it?"
"I already told you, it was an alligator," Chloe says. "You know he just makes these stories up while he's waiting on fish to bite his hook, right?"
Aubrey picks up Chloe's stuffed bear and chucks it at her head, not bothering to look to see if she hits her target.
"I felt this tug on my hook," Chloe's dad says, "And I looked over and this gator, he must have been at least fifteen feet long, had my fishing line between his teeth and he was swimming right at me. You know my boat; a fifteen gator could eat that thing whole. A five foot gator could eat that thing whole!"
"Mommy, Aubrey is throwing things," Chloe complains, "At me."
Chloe's mom sighs again. "Why do you two turn into five year olds whenever I talk to the two of you together?" she asks. "Aubrey, don't throw things. Chloe, stop instigating her."
"Instigating?" Chloe asks indignantly. "She threw something at my head, and now I'm in trouble?"
"Fold, Chlo," her mom demands.
"I'm sorry," Aubrey spouts out quickly, not really sure if she's directing the apology at Chloe or her mom, her attention still on the story. "What did you do?"
"I pulled out my knife and I cut the line," he says, "But it kept coming after me like it thought I was reeling it right in. So, I did what any fisherman would do. The moment it got close enough to the boat, I turned my rod around and hit it over the head so hard, it was stunned as I paddled off."
"Oooh." Aubrey grins and flops back against the pillows. "Do you think it's going to remember you next time you're out on the lake?"
"I have no doubt!" he exclaims, "It'll probably be out there looking for me."
"You know you're talking about an alligator, right?" Chloe asks.
Aubrey sits up and gives her a dirty look. "The other day, you told me you were scared to do laundry, because you think the dryer is going to eat you," she reminds her. "But now you're questioning me for thinking an alligator, a living creature with a brain, might have a good memory and know who it wants to eat?"
"Okay, first of all, that's not what I said at all about the dryer," Chloe says defensively, "And, secondly, there was never an alligator on the lake this morning."
Aubrey rolls her eyes. It was Chloe who had convinced her to call to ask about the alligator. "Clearly there was, which you would know if your ears worked as well as your mouth."
Chloe scoffs.
"Hey, be nice," Chloe's mom warns, taking the phone from Chloe's dad.
"That is her being nice!" Chloe gets up and jumps on the bed next to Aubrey, grabbing the phone from her. "She's literally the meanest person I know."
Aubrey's jaw drops. She snatches the phone back, ready to show Chloe what 'mean' really looks like. "Chloe tells people you beat her." She gives Chloe a smug look, enjoying the fear that flashes through Chloe's eyes.
"Chloe!" her mom raises her voice. "Why would you tell people I beat you?!"
"I do not tell people that," Chloe sputters. "I just tell Aubrey that so she'll stop getting me into trouble, but she knows that you don't!"
"I swear, Chloe Beale," her mom informs her in a low tone, "I am going to smack you the next time I see you."
Chloe visibly hesitates. "Isn't that like the very definition of beating?"
"Do you want me to show you what beating looks like?" her mom asks, "Because you're pushing your way there right now."
Chloe's eyes grow even wider and she slowly shakes her head. She reaches for the phone, nearly toppling forward when Aubrey pulls it out of her reach. "Aubrey!" She clambers onto her knees and leans over Aubrey, reaching for it again.
Aubrey raises one arm to block her, quickly maneuvering herself onto her knees as well. She holds the phone in the air with one and places her other on Chloe's shoulder, using her to push herself to her feet.
"Seriously?" Chloe asks, looking up at her. "Again?"
"Why do you have to tease her like that, Aubrey?" Chloe's mom asks.
"Because it's funny," Aubrey answers. She turns the phone so Chloe can see her mom.
"Mommy..." Chloe whines.
"What do you want me to do about it, Chlo?" her mom asks, "I can't be there to be tall for you."
Aubrey snorts then quickly covers her nose with her free hand.
"That's not helpful." Chloe is still whining. "And Aubrey is only like an inch taller than me."
"She utilizes it well," Chloe's dad chimes in.
"You guys are all mean." Chloe clumsily gets to her feet, almost falling back over, then reaches for the phone.
Aubrey isn't even sure why Chloe has decided she wants the phone so badly. It's not even her phone. She smirks and holds the phone in the air, trying to balance on her tiptoes without falling off the bed.
Chloe looks down at the bed like she's weighing her options then starts jumping and grabbing for the phone.
Aubrey stumbles back toward the headboard, grateful that the bed is big enough to provide her with enough room to escape.
"You asked for this." Chloe ambushes her and tickles her sides.
Aubrey shrieks and drops the phone, falling down with it. Chloe falls down on top of her, still tickling her even as they accidentally bump heads. She gasps for air between bursts of laughter and rolls over on top of her phone, trying to ignore the cramps suddenly engulfing her stomach and chest.
"Girls, you're going to get hurt," Chloe's mom warns them.
Aubrey curls up on her side, trying to protect herself with her arms as Chloe straddles her with one leg on either side of her back and stomach. "Chloe, stop!" she begs, tears of laughter stinging her eyes. "Stop or I'm going to throw up!"
"Girls!" Chloe's mom raises her voice.
Chloe stops tickling her and leans forward, trying to lick her face instead.
Aubrey whines and tries to cover her face and roll over onto her stomach, getting stuck between Chloe's legs. She arches her body and attempts to shove Chloe off with her elbow, but Chloe manages to pry her hands away from her face with one hand and lick her cheek as she uses her free hand to grab the phone. She might actually throw up now. She twists her hands free and shoves Chloe off of her. "Gross, Chloe." She wipes Chloe's spit off her face with her palm and tries to wipe it back on Chloe.
"Ew." Chloe grabs Aubrey's arm and holds it back. "Aubrey is trying to wipe spit on me."
Aubrey stares at her. "Your own spit, Chloe."
"Still." Chloe makes a face and turns her phone so her parents can't see them. "You know, you don't seem to mind when my tongue licks other places," she mouths, letting go of Aubrey's arm and leaning closer.
Aubrey gives her a disgusted look and presses her hand against Chloe's face, simultaneously wiping off the spit and pushing Chloe away from her. "Tell Chloe to stop."
"Chloe, stop it," her mom demands.
"Fine." Chloe wipes her face off with her shirt. She flops back against the pillows and wraps her arm around Aubrey's shoulders, pulling her back as well. "I'll stop."
Good. Aubrey settles against her, content to be lying down again. Messing around with Chloe made her realize how completely burned out she still is. She rolls over onto her side and drapes her arm across her, resting her forehead against Chloe's cheek.
"But Aubrey started it," Chloe teases.
Aubrey knows Chloe is trying to provoke her for a reaction, but she's done playing. She sighs and picks at a loose string on the comforter, willing the sharp pangs in her stomach and chest away.
Chloe looks down at her, clearly taken aback by the silence.
"You doing okay, Bunny? " Chloe's mom asks. "You're not looking too good."
Aubrey glances at the where Chloe is holding the phone. "Mhm." She forces a smile and nods, her heart pounding harder as she realizes that she's going to be reprimanded for lying. She really feels like she's going to throw up again. But the scolding never comes. Her heart continues to thud in her chest though, and she's sure that even Chloe can feel it. It falls into rhythm with the throbbing in her head. Chloe's fingers gently rub up and down her arm, and she wants to close her eyes and go back to sleep. She curls up closer to her, trying to tuck her bare legs under Chloe's to keep them warm.
Chloe switches her phone to the other hand, resting it on Aubrey's arm, and grabs the crumpled up comforter beside her. She spreads it out over both of them then switches hands with her phone again.
"Girls, did something happen?" Chloe's mom asks.
Even if Aubrey wanted to say something, she has no idea what she would say. She makes a decision that when she gets to Seattle, she's going to contact the Seattle Police Department; she'll figure out what to say then. They'll know how to ask the right questions. They'll give her a starting point.
"I made a mistake coming here," Chloe admits, saving Aubrey from needing to speak. "Don't tell me you told me so. It's been crazy with Beca. And, like, this kid that works at the ice cream store here killed himself and somehow we got mixed up in it…"
Aubrey tenses.
"That's terrible, Chlo," her mom says, "How did your wedding party get mixed up in something like that?"
"It wasn't really the wedding party." Chloe hesitates. "It was more just…me and Aubrey who saw it. It was awful. He hanged himself, and -"
"Chloe, I'm going to throw up," Aubrey announces, needing the conversation to end. She makes a show of bolting upright and looking around for the paper can.
"Mommy, I have to go." Chloe sits up as well and places the phone on her lap.
"Goodbye, Girls, I love you. I hope you feel better, Bunny. Be good, Pumpkin." Chloe's mom hangs up the phone.
Chloe looks at Aubrey and knowingly tilts her head.
Aubrey opens her mouth to speak, then realizes she doesn't have an excuse. She presses her lips together and swallows hard, turning and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. If she's lucky, it's still early enough that they can get breakfast so the cramping in her stomach might ease up. She slides off the bed and kneels down on the floor, looking in their suitcases for clothes.
"Is that what this is all about?" Chloe asks. "About the boy from the ice cream shop and you're new friend or whatever she is."
Aubrey shakes her head. She pulls out her clothes. It's about so much more than that.
"Something happened, and you are in shock from it, Aubrey." Chloe climbs off the bed and closes the suitcase. She sits down on top of it, and places her hands on Aubrey's cheeks. "You're in shock."
Aubrey remains silent.
"Look at me," Chloe whispers tenderly, "Look at me."
Aubrey looks at her.
Chloe scoots the suitcase closer to her. "I know you; I know something happened that has you scared." She brushes Aubrey's hair away from her face then lowers her hands to her shoulders. "Did somebody do something to you?"
Did they? Aubrey stares past Chloe, at the wall.
"Who was it?" Chloe tries to put herself in Aubrey's line of vision again, but Aubrey looks away again. "Beca? You can tell me if it was Beca."
Aubrey draws in a deep breath and clenches her jaw, keeping herself perfectly composed. She slowly shakes her head.
"Trebles?" Chloe guesses again.
Trebles wouldn't go as far as someone did last night. Aubrey shakes her head again, waiting for Chloe to give up on playing guessing games with her. It's not like she has an answer to give. Nothing adds up. She can't figure out what could possibly connect her and Tyler.
Chloe is looking more and more serious with each passing second, but unfortunately she's also chock-full of patience this morning. "Someone you don't know?"
Aubrey doesn't know what possesses her to tell the truth and nod. Or that's what she tells herself. Really, she does know. She needs Chloe to know. She needs someone who isn't Beca to know. And she needs Chloe to know.
"Did this start when we got here?" Chloe asks.
It's almost like Aubrey is responding on auto-pilot as she nods again.
"Aubrey, why didn't you tell me?" Chloe asks. "Why didn't you tell me that this has been what's going on with you?"
Aubrey looks down at the clothes in her hands, zeroing in on the fabric. "I did." She swallows hard, tears welling up in her eyes. It's not as though she had started out spinning a web of lies just for the sake of it. She takes a deep breath to steel her emotions again. "I told you someone broke into our room." She sniffles and gives Chloe an accusing look, angry at herself for doing it, but desperate to keep this from all being turned around on her again.
Chloe stares at her for a moment before a look of horror flashes through her eyes. She looks down and drops her hands to the edge of the suitcase. "And I told you that was insane." She places her hand over her mouth and shakes her head. "Aubrey, I'm so sorry." She lowers her hand to the suitcase again. "I just thought when you said you thought it was Beca that…" She shakes her head. "I don't even know what to say for myself. I am so sorry. Did you go to Beca, because I didn't believe you?"
There isn't a direct answer to that question. There's no simple yes or no that she can give. There's the piece where all of this involved Beca too – where Beca was supposed to understand and have her back. Aubrey realizes how stupid she was. To keep things from Chloe. To trust Beca. She stubbornly keeps her mouth shut, not wanting to make matters worse right now. She just wants to get off this island. This whole place is spinning out of control. She is spinning out of control. And they need to leave.
Chloe shifts uncomfortably on the suitcase. "Do we need to call the cops when we get to Seattle?" she asks, her voice catching in her throat. "Is it something that bad?" She reaches out and rests her hand on Aubrey's cheek again, rubbing it gently with her thumb.
The room feels distant. Or maybe Aubrey feels distant from everything. She can still feel Beca's hand on her face. And, despite Tyler and the phone calls and the mirror and the deer, she finds herself wondering if it really is all that bad. Or if, maybe, she's just blowing it all out of proportion. Her stomach twists itself into sickening knots, the aftermath of the deer replaying itself over and over in her head. She nods on autopilot again.
"Oh my god, Aubrey, what happened?" Chloe sounds like she's going to cry. Her voice is laced with a kind of empathy that Aubrey can't quite handle and Aubrey's chin starts trembling against her will, the stress of it all too much. Chloe slides off the suitcase, kneeling in front of Aubrey, still trying to make eye contact. Both of her hands are suddenly on Aubrey's face again. "What happened?"
It feels like she's going to pass out – in a way that she can't really feel much of anything. She doesn't even realize she's crying until Chloe is wiping tears from her face with her fingers. Is it that bad? Beca doesn't seem to think so. Beca also hasn't dealt with half of what she has. So what for Beca? A photo and her ring? Some phone calls? Standing with her back turned as Aubrey pulled the trigger? There were no threatening music boxes for Beca. No tripping in the woods. No blood on any of her mirrors. No walking in on a dead kid hanging from the ceiling. She draws in another deep, self-possessed breath, and finally locks eyes with Chloe. "I want to go home." She gently pushes Chloe's hands away from her face and uses the bed for support as she shakily gets to her feet.
Chloe rests her hands on her knees and looks down at the floor, silent.
It takes clenching her teeth so hard, they feel about to shatter like glass to keep her chin from continuing to tremble. Aubrey grabs a towel from a pile of things yet to be packed on the floor and leaves the room, determined to go about the day in a perfectly normal manner. She'll shower. Get dressed. Brush her teeth. Go to breakfast. And then they'll go to Seattle and change their flight, and it will be like this week never happened. She can hear Chloe get up and follow her, but she doesn't look back. She walks into the shower room and places her things neatly on the bench, refolding the towel and her clean clothes. All of the corners and edges line up perfectly, and she feels momentarily proud of herself. Her underwear and socks and Chloe's hoodie come next – folded and placed next to her clean clothes, a centimeter of space between the piles. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Chloe removing and folding up her own clothes as well – and, while well-meaning, the action feels out of place.
She suddenly wants Chloe to ask her if she wants to have sex. She doesn't actually want to have sex. Far from it. She wants to scrub her skin off so she can no longer imagine feeling the dried blood on her arms and hands. But they're both naked. And in the shower. And nothing about being in this position without Chloe coming on to her is normal. She turns on the water as hot as she can get it without scalding herself. It's too quiet, and she has to subtly glance behind her to make sure Chloe is still there. She is. "You're supposed to ask if I want to have sex," she decides to prompt the script. The water burns as she steps under it.
"Why would I ask you that right now?" Chloe walks around to the shower knobs and turns down the temperature of the water, then leans against the wall and folds her arms. "Do you want to?"
Aubrey shakes her head. Chloe isn't asking it right, and still nothing feels like it's supposed to. She turns the temperature back up and stands so the water is stinging her shoulders and back. It's all she can feel. "No, I don't." She stares past Chloe's head, waiting for her to come back with a tempting comment about why they should.
Chloe turns down the temperature again, letting her hand rest on the knob this time. "You're okay, Aubrey."
Aubrey presses her lips tightly together and stares hard at the tile on the wall. Chloe is purposely not following the script. The steam from the water makes her breathe harder and she focuses on the thick, humid air filling her lungs, trying to convince her mind to focus on just one thought. "I found…" She pauses to lick her lips, unsure of why she's talking out loud.
"You found what?" Chloe asks, leaning back against the wall. She wipes some of the moisture from the shower spray off her face, not taking her eyes off Aubrey.
"I found the music box." Aubrey looks down, watching the water swirl around the drain. "The piano."
"Oh." Chloe sounds confused. "Where was it?"
"In the road…" Aubrey sniffles and blocks half the drain with her foot, watching the water flow around her.
"Where is it now?" Chloe asks.
"The bar." Aubrey looks up when Chloe doesn't say anything else. Chloe is just looking at her, expression unreadable. "Someone put it there for me." She doesn't know how she knows it was put there so she would see it, but she just knows. She waits for Chloe to say something, to change facial expressions, to give Aubrey any sort of hint toward what she's thinking. But Chloe is just listening to her. "Just like the picture and…" She doesn't want to say 'the deer'. She looks around for her soap and loofah, and realizes Chloe must have already packed them. So she scrubs at her arms with her fingers, trying to rid her skin from feeling like it has the deer's blood on it.
"What picture?" Chloe asks. Her gazes shifts from Aubrey's face to her arms, and she stands up straighter.
Aubrey bites her cheek and moves her foot, hyper-focusing on the drain sucking up the water. It hits her that whoever is doing this doesn't just want to scare her, they know her. Like, really know her. At least enough to pinpoint her insecurities and use them against her. She thinks back to crashing into Beca's dad, but even that doesn't make sense. He might want her and Chloe to stay away from Beca, but enough to cause last night? She doesn't realize how mercilessly she's scrubbing at her arm with her fingernails even as the scrapes that were already there start to bleed and the water by her feet is tinged light pink.
Chloe pitches forward and grabs her wrists. "Aubrey, stop."
Aubrey flinches as pain shoots up her arm, dragging her ruthlessly back into the reality that she's standing naked in the shower and Chloe is trying to prevent her from clawing her skin off. She looks up and watches Chloe examine the scrapes and bruising on her arms that she got from falling in the woods and from Bumper tripping her. "Someone broke in the first night we were here, while we were sleeping on the couch, and they taped a picture to the refrigerator." She wishes now she had kept it.
"Why didn't you show me?" Chloe asks, not looking up from Aubrey's arms. She takes her bleeding arm and gently holds it under the stream of water, using her other hand to wipe away the blood. "You didn't tell me anything other than that you thought somebody broke in." She places her hand over the cut, putting pressure on it.
Aubrey fights the urge to tell Chloe how completely unsanitary that is. Looking at the blood makes her feel sick, and she has to look away. "Because it was of you and Beca." She begins counting the tiles on the wall. One. Two. Three. "I threw it away." Four. Five. Six.
"But that's why you thought it was Beca…" Chloe says slowly. "We should get it out of the trash."
"It's not there." Aubrey doesn't mean to snap, but that's how it comes out. She mentally kicks herself. Seven. Eight. Nine. "They came back for it after we went to bed." She can feel Chloe tense. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. "And I blamed Beca, but she blamed me, because someone put one in her room, too." Chloe doesn't need to know about the ring. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. She waits for a reaction, but Chloe doesn't say anything. "And they were calling her too." Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. That's one thing she does have proof of. The calls logged on her phone. Nineteen. The phone that she left in the bedroom. Twenty. Alone. She jams the shower handle into the off position and walks swiftly to the door, grabbing her towel on the way out.
"What do you mean 'calling'?" Chloe rushes after her, grabbing their clothes. "Aubrey, wait."
Aubrey rounds the corner into the bedroom and snatches her phone off the bed, holding it against her chest with the towel. She sits down on the edge of the bed, just barely aware that she's dripping water all over the blankets.
Chloe walks in after her and grabs a towel from the floor. She holds it in one hand, holding their clothes in the other, and stands in front of Aubrey. "Tell me who is calling you," she says, and Aubrey can hear the uneasiness in her voice. "What are they saying?"
The corners of Aubrey's lips twitch as she thinks about what was said to Beca – how they knew her name, even though she had answered Aubrey's phone. She stares at the carpet. What song did Beca say she had heard?
"Okay. Let's think about this logically." Chloe kneels on the bed beside her and put their clothes down. She wraps the towel she's holding around Aubrey then wraps Aubrey in a tight hug, holding the towel in place. "I mean, it sounds like it's probably just Trebles being Trebles. They're dicks. And you know they're not going to lay off on Beca just because she's marrying Jesse. That probably is the whole reason behind this. That and the fact they can't let go that they lost to us. That's why they're bothering you too."
Sometimes, Chloe's optimism is annoying. Aubrey considers herself a realist. There aren't always happy endings. Not everything always works out for the best. She's not a pessimist. But, sometimes, the glass really is half empty. Usually, she wishes Chloe would see things for what they are. But now she doesn't want to crush that part of her. "It's not them." She shivers and looks around for her clothes before remembering Chloe put them on the bed behind her. "Something happened, Chloe." Tears are welling up in her eyes again, and rage at herself for crying so much starts to build up. She breaks away from Chloe and gets up, roughly balling up both towels and throwing them down on the bed.
"Well, can you tell me what happened?" Chloe grabs one of the towels and starts drying herself off with it. "You keep telling me something happened, but you're not helping me understand."
Aubrey grabs her clothes and wrestles them on. She tugs Chloe's hoodie back on over her t-shirt, absolutely freezing. "Because you wouldn't understand." How could she? Chloe can barely squash bugs, let alone shoot a deer. She wraps her arms around her stomach, the mix of nausea and cramping starting to become unbearable again.
"Yeah, because you won't let me." Chloe tosses the towel down on the bed then slides her clothes back on. "Try me." She walks up to her and places her hands on Aubrey's upper arms, rubbing them up and down to warm her up. "Whatever it is, I can handle it." She holds up one hand and sticks out her pinky.
Aubrey swallows thickly and stares at her hand.
"You know this is more serious than putting your right hand on the Bible." Chloe squeezes her upper arm with her other hand.
It is to Chloe; Aubrey knows that much. She pries one of her arms away from her stomach and links pinky fingers with Chloe.
"Come here, and sit down." Chloe leads her by her pinky back over to the bed and picks a dry spot to sit.
Aubrey slowly sits down beside her and stares down at her lap.
"You don't always have to tear yourself to pieces trying to deal with things on your own." Chloe lets go of Aubrey's finger and places her hand over Aubrey's, giving it a light squeeze. "I get that your dad instilled some seriously intense level of independence in you, but I am telling that it is okay to ask me for help."
Aubrey looks up and over at Chloe, locking eyes with her.
"Aubrey, why don't you trust me?" Chloe asks. "I know that there is a lot of shit that I royally fucked up, but-"
"I do," Aubrey cuts her off quickly, "I do." More than she trusts anyone else, at least.
"Then I'm only going to ask one more time." Chloe doesn't sound angry, like Aubrey expects her to. No, her voice is heavy with concern. "What happened?"
