FromTumblr: There will be plenty more Mitchsen moments to come.
96itadakimasu96: Aubrey can't wait to take them down either.
Bechloe-4evs: Thank you. That means a lot to me.
G: Just wait for the levity Conrad is about to provide in a few chapters.
Guest2: Idk if Aubrey can handle any more death.
Pixie1913: Aubrey for President Posen!
Mwallace: He does know. That's what JJ was hinting at.
Andiclauds: Nothing ever happens really soon when I'm writing it.
SunDanceQT: No room for toxic masculinity when Brian and Conrad are around.
Dysrhythmia
I am an astronaut,
I am an astronaut.
Daddy's away and mum's asleep,
I am an astronaut.
I am a polar bear,
I am a polar bear.
I'm anything I want to be,
When nobody else is there.
- Ricky Wilde
"You cannot put that away," Beca says, grabbing the box away from Aubrey as she tries to put the doll back inside once Brian, her boss, and the cops leave.
"Says who?" Aubrey furrows her brows in confusion. While she appreciates having something back that once meant so much to her, it's a little too late in life for her to be playing with dolls. When she gets home, she'll put her on a nice shelf and take her down every now and again to make sure she doesn't collect dust.
"Me. That is adorable; little Aubrey and her toys."
"Give me the box." Aubrey narrows her eyes as Beca holds it out of her reach. "Give me the box, Beca."
Beca tosses the box behind her head, and it lands in the bathroom.
"Beca!" Aubrey tries to go retrieve it, but Beca holds her back by the back of her shirt.
"I kind of can't believe you played with a doll," Beca says.
"What do you think I played with?" Aubrey asks, and places the doll down to try to pry Beca's fingers away from her clothing, "Unhand me."
Beca pauses to think, still not letting her go. "Text books and office supplies."
That fact that Beca isn't too far off causes Aubrey to frown. "Like you never played with a doll," she says, "Or did you have barbies?"
"I did, in fact, have two barbies," Beca informs her, "They were needed for part of a very elaborate storyline."
Aubrey tilts her head.
"They were GI Joe's wives," Beca answers shamelessly, "They were abducted by aliens."
It's unclear why Aubrey thought Beca was going to tell her something that made sense. "Aliens?"
"Yes," Beca says, "The aliens were these two furbies that came to Earth to find test subjects. But when the barbies got to space, they realized it was better than Earth. So, they married their abductors."
"The furby aliens?" Aubrey confirms.
"Keep up."
"Excuse me? I don't even know what a furby is, Beca."
"GI Joe and GI Joe figured out which planet they had been taken to," Beca continues, before Aubrey feels the need to speak up again.
"They were both named GI Joe?"
"Dude, stop interrupting my story."
"Sorry." No, she's not. Aubrey rests her doll on her lap and tries to understand.
"So, GI Joe and GI Joe blew up the planet, but Barbie and Barbie and the aliens were on a different planet on their honeymoon – and all of the other aliens on the planet were there celebrating too."
"Okay, but isn't a honeymoon something you do alone with your significant other, Beca?"
"Different planet, different customs. But-"
There are a lot of buts in this story.
"That means the aliens and Barbie and Barbie had nowhere to live, so they waged war on Earth, then took over, and made GI Joe and GI Joe their slaves – and then they recreated dinosaurs."
"You're weird."
"You're weird," Beca retorts, "What did you do for fun? Something that you didn't have to learn how to do."
Aubrey had to learn to read, to ride a bike, to play piano, and, in some ways, even to sing.
"What did you do at recess?" Beca asks, "You seem like one of those girls that rushed the swings everyday and never let anyone else use them."
Aubrey shakes her head.
"Soccer?" Beca tries again.
"I went to the library," Aubrey informs her.
"Seriously?" Beca looks disappointed. "Why?"
Because no one wanted to play with her. Because, even in elementary school, she was known as the girl who threw up when she got nervous. Because when someone did want to play with her, she had to turn them down, because her father said that friends would keep her from getting into a good college and making something with her life. "I don't know."
Beca finally releases her and balls her hands into fists, looking at Aubrey like she's not going to give up. "There has to be something."
"I think we just have different definitions of fun," Aubrey says, hoping to leave it at that, "You can already see I had a doll."
"You didn't…play in the bathtub?" Beca asks.
"Why would I play in the bathtub?" What would she play in the bathtub?
"You didn't have a coloring book?"
Aubrey had coloring books, several of them actually. She just never used them, because she couldn't bring herself to mark them up and she wanted to keep all of her crayons sharp and the same height. "Beca, I'm done with this conversation. Your story had no logic." She stands up to go get her box.
"Who imagines with logic?" Beca asks, "The entire point is to be illogical and have fun."
"Logic is fun." Aubrey places the box on the table and then rests her doll inside. It looks like a coffin. She refuses to look as she puts the lid on it.
"Logic and Fun are in two separate ends of the spectrum," Beca replies.
"What spectrum, Beca?" Aubrey sits back down on the edge of the bed.
"The imagination spectrum!"
"Why are you yelling at me?" Aubrey asks.
"I'm – I'm not yelling at you. I'm-"
"That's not even a real thing." Aubrey turns and pulls the blanket back over her lap.
"It is a real thing. You're at one end and Chloe is at the other, and I am somewhere in the healthy middle."
Aubrey rolls her eyes. "Switch spots with me," she says, and tries to climb over her.
"Why?" Beca asks, and presses herself back against the bed to make Aubrey's awkward attempt to maneuver herself over her with one hand easier.
"So I don't have to look at you."
The door to their room opens as Aubrey finally rolls over and begins to try to situate herself, and she freezes for a second, fearing it might be her brother coming back. He will come back once he finds out what she did. She knows he will. But, right now, it's just Chloe's mom – and Aubrey turns her focus back to untangling the blankets.
"Mrs. Beale," Beca addresses her.
"You can just call me Julia." She closes the door behind her, then looks at Aubrey. "How did that happen?" she asks, watching her try to unwrap herself without any help from the very capable, two-handed person also occupying the bed.
Aubrey ignores her.
"Isn't the point of having an imagination to be illogical?" Beca asks.
"Well, there are ways to imagine logically," Julia says, and moves to help Aubrey, "But the illogical does bring a unique level of fun."
Aubrey glares at her.
"I'm not saying imagining logical things can't be fun." Julia sits down on the edge of the bed, "People find fun in all different things. No one way is the right or wrong way to do it."
"Aubrey has a doll," Beca calls her out, "But she won't keep it out of the box."
"What box?" Aubrey picks up the box and places it under the blanket. She turns to Beca. "Are you having a good day?"
Beca shrugs. "Despite the circumstances and the fact that you woke me up at six thirty this morning, yeah, my day's going pretty well."
"Do you want to continue having a good day?" Aubrey threatens.
"Aubrey," Julia says, "Can we step into the hall for a second?"
Shit. "No, thank you."
"Come on," Julia urges.
"I'm good," Aubrey assures her.
"I just want to talk to you for a minute."
No. What she wants to do is give a lecture on insulting Beca, after pretending to assume that Aubrey needs something, because she made the code saying if Aubrey doesn't treat Beca like she's God's freakin' gift to humanity, that means Aubrey needs to talk. Aubrey pulls the box out from under the blanket, without looking at either of them, and drops it on Julia's lap to distract her.
Julia opens the box, and places it on the floor, once again somewhere out of Aubrey's reach, once she pulls out Aubrey's doll. "Oh, she's so pretty," she says, "Why keep her in a box?"
"Dude, that was her only toy growing up," Beca says.
"It wasn't my only toy." That's really stretching it. Aubrey had plenty of things she enjoyed – books, a karaoke machine, a piano, etc. She didn't live in a barren room with nothing ever to do. "It's the only thing you consider a toy."
"I don't think sticky notes and ballpoint pens are considered toys," Beca whispers, "Unless you're drawing targets, then turning the pen into a projectile."
Aubrey stares hard at the wall, because she will be damned if she's dragged out into that hallway.
"You should leave her out," Julia says, and bends the dolls legs to sit her upright on the table.
"She's embarrassing." Guilt stabs Aubrey in the chest, which is ridiculous, because inanimate objects don't have feelings, so there is no reason to feel guilty.
"Why?" Julia asks, "You're in the hospital. Everybody has dolls or stuffed animals or special things out in the open in their rooms. I take it this means your brother was here already. How did that go?"
"Good," Aubrey answers immediately, "He lied to the police, and I know my father knows – so I turned them in."
"Aubrey had him by the balls," Beca chimes in, "That guy was a dick."
Julia is quiet for a moment – a lasting moment that rubs Aubrey the wrong way and makes her stomach roll over for some reason. "I'm glad you got a win," she finally says, "I'm proud of you." She sounds sincere, but something in the silence is difficult for Aubrey to recover from. "You have the rest of the day free to celebrate, if you don't count all the doctors and whatnot barging in on you. Anything you want to do?"
Aubrey quickly masks her nerves. It's been a long morning. There isn't a lot she wants to do outside of go spend time with Chloe, but she has a feeling that an entire day with Chloe isn't going to happen. "We could watch a movie."
Beca dramatically slides off the bed in slow motion. "I'm going out," she says, and reaches for clean clothes.
"Where are you going?" Aubrey asks as her chest tightens back up.
"I don't know. I have a best friend now." Beca turns to Julia. "Can I use your phone to text him?"
She cannot be serious…
"Who's your new friend?" Julia asks, "Where is my phone?"
Aubrey reluctantly pulls it out of her pocket. "Conrad."
"Really?" Julia asks, as Beca stands up and snatches the phone from Aubrey's hand.
Beca just nods and texts him.
"You know what, you can have him," Aubrey decides.
"I didn't know you had ownership papers," Beca says.
"But there are no returns or exchanges." If Beca thinks Aubrey waking her up in the morning is bad, Aubrey can't wait until she finds out Conrad functions on caffeine and the amount of sleep he gets whenever he passes out from being awake too long.
Beca hands Julia her phone back. "This could be a career step for me," she tells Aubrey, "What if he needs someone to mix music for his shows? I could be a judge on Drag Race one day."
There are two images that come immediately to mind. The first is Beca judging Conrad in illegal car races, and the second involves Conrad running a marathon in heels. Neither seem quite right.
"RuPaul?" Beca says, like that's supposed to mean something, "RuPaul's Drag Race? Maybe that's what you should watch right now."
"Do you know what RuPaul is?" Aubrey asks Chloe's mom after Beca turns and goes to change her clothes.
Julia nods. "I do."
Aubrey looks at her.
"Is that what you want to watch?" Julia asks.
Not particularly.
"We don't have to," Julia responds to the look on Aubrey's face. "Here."
Aubrey watches in trepidation as she leaves the bed and walks toward the door. Instead of walking out, Julia kneels down next to her bag and pulls out a laptop that she brings back to the bed with her, and Aubrey settles back down.
"You pick," Julia says as she turns on her computer and opens up Netflix.
Aubrey stares at the screen, and nervously rubs her fingers up and down the rough exterior of her cast. "You choose." She wants to see what Chloe's mom will pick. They're about to live in the same place, and Aubrey barely knows anything about her outside of how nice she is.
"Me? Okay." Julia begins scrolling through the movies. "I have some dollar bills in my bag. Should we send Beca to the vending machine to get some snacks before she leaves?"
Vending machine food reminds Aubrey of the food they last ate at The Cannery. "I ate breakfast."
"That's good. That makes me happy. Doesn't mean you can't have a snack though. Did you take any medication this morning?"
Aubrey's answer to that isn't going to make her happy. She must have been with Conrad and Beca when the nurse came in to do rounds.
Julia reaches over and pushes the button for the nurse without looking away from the laptop screen. "They can check all your vitals, change the bandage on your shoulder, and bring you medicine and some snacks while I find a movie."
It doesn't take that long to find a movie…
xxxxx
"Can I have your quarters?" Chloe asked.
"No." Aubrey pocketed her change, and politely thanked the cashier as he handed Aubrey her bag.
"Please?"
"Why do you need my quarters?" Aubrey asked, walking away from the register.
"For the gumball machines," Chloe answered, "Duh."
"They're full of junk, Chloe." Aubrey looked at the old quarter stealing thieves made to increase child manipulation and take parents' hard earned money straight from their pockets – and Aubrey's too, apparently.
"Fun junk." Chloe held out her hand. "What are you going to use them for?"
"It doesn't matter what I'm going to use them for; they're my quarters." Aubrey stopped to face her. "But, if you must know, coffee across the street from my job only costs $1.50, so I pay for it in loose change."
"You only have three quarters," Chloe pointed out, "Are they cutting the cup in half?"
"I have more at home. Go buy something and pay for it in cash, and you can have your own quarters. Go ask one of the cashiers if they'll give you change."
Chloe gave her the face. The 'kicked puppy, how could you do this to me, I thought you loved me, but I guess I was wrong' face. "Fine. I don't need anything from the machine."
"No, you don't," Aubrey agreed, and resumed walking toward the door,
Chloe leapt in front of her. "But I really want something. Please, Aubrey, I'll buy you something cute."
"From the gumball machine – with my own quarters?"
"I'll pay you back." No, she wouldn't.
Aubrey sighed and rooted around in her pocket for the three quarters mixed in amongst several other coins. If it got them out of this store… She pouted as she dropped each one into Chloe's open palm. "I thought we just came here to get more milk."
"We got milk," Chloe said, and closed the coins in her fist.
"We did," Aubrey said, "And it's getting warm in the bag."
"Live a little." Chloe tossed one of her quarters back to her. "Buy a gumball."
Aubrey pocketed the money and remained rooted to her spot, watching Chloe walk over and kneel in front of one of the machines. The only flavors of gum Aubrey enjoyed were peppermint and cinnamon, and none of those colorful sugar traps looked to be either of those flavors. They probably tasted like fake fruit and future cavities – and Aubrey wasn't going to get her first cavity now, or ever.
Chloe spent both of her quarters on the same machine, twisting the handle until two colorful balls rolled into her hand. She placed them each in opposite hands as she stood up, then chucked one of them at the ground.
Aubrey didn't have a clue what she was doing, until the ball came bouncing back up at her. It wasn't gum. It was a bouncy ball.
"Here." Chloe walked back over to her and gave her the glittery blue one, keeping the pink and purple swirled one for herself.
"What am I supposed to do with this?" Aubrey asked.
"It's a bouncy ball, Bree," Chloe stated the obvious, "You bounce it."
Aubrey rolled her eyes and dropped it into the bag with the milk.
xxxxx
Netflix apparently doesn't have anything worth watching, because Aubrey is forced to wait and be jostled by the nurse as Julia scours the internet for a movie. They end up with cups of apple juice and saltine crackers that are bound to get crumbs all over the blanket for snacks, and, out of nowhere, Aubrey misses popcorn. Not the kind one pops at home when while watching a movie. Real popcorn. The kind from the movie theater that makes her feel guilty, because she and Chloe splurge and absolutely drench it in butter – but, not enough to make it soggy, because no one wants soggy popcorn, and definitely not when it costs more than the movie itself.
Julia is clearly Chloe's mother, because she settles for a cartoon. "I watch this sometimes after hard days at work," she says, and pulls Aubrey in closer to her, "Have you ever seen it?"
Aubrey shakes her head. "I don't watch cartoons."
"It's anime," Julia says, like that's supposed to mean something to her, "Hayao Miyazaki is an amazingly talented man. I think maybe you'll be able to find appreciation for the storytelling and the art in this one. Imagine the work animating something would take."
Aubrey has never really thought about the work put into making an animation before. She has taken a moment or two to appreciate claymation in her life, especially after she had to make a stop motion video for a class in high school, and it took a lot of time and effort. Had she had to draw something like that? No, thank you. "What is it about?"
"Forest spirits that look like really fat rabbits," Julia answers as she presses play.
My Neighbor Totoro
It neither sounds nor looks like something Aubrey would watch on her own. But, she's not on her own. She gets comfortable and tries to focus on the screen, and not on JJ's words that keep coming back to her. Chloe's mom does not feel sorry for her. She has told Aubrey she loves her, and she has never lied to Aubrey before. Plus, there are plenty of people in the world who Aubrey feels sorry for, and she wouldn't watch a movie with them curled up in bed. She'd send them to another planet where she would never have to see them again, beginning with her brothers. Also, JJ has always been a liar.
Aubrey jumps a little as Julia's hand brushes against hers, breaking her from her thoughts. She glances down and watches her adjust the aquamarine ring Chloe got her for a birthday a few years back with her thumb. Aubrey fights back the sudden urge to touch it. Her own mom used to wear rings; she probably still does, wherever she is now. And, Aubrey never understood why, but she always wanted Aubrey to fiddle with them when they were out in public – to just sit there and play with them like it was something interesting to do. She never understood the appeal, until now – well, she never felt it, at least; she still doesn't understand it.
Julia must be watching her, because she offers Aubrey her hand – and Aubrey's cheeks flush with embarrassment. And, when Aubrey doesn't move, she just rests her hand on top of Aubrey's and resumes watching the movie.
Well, now that their hands are touching already… Aubrey tries to be subtle in sliding her hand back out from underneath Chloe's mom's, then lightly touches the stone. She isn't sure what she expected. It feels like any other rock stuck in a ring. She traces the band, then freezes again when Julia moves her hand – but she's just turning it over, exposing her palm, tempting Aubrey to trace the curved lines and her fingers. And, when she gives in, it's oddly soothing.
What would it have been like if Aubrey's mother had taken her and left? Aubrey wouldn't be here, that's for sure. She wouldn't know Chloe, or her family. She wouldn't know any better to know that she'd rather have spent her whole life with Chloe's family than her own. Would she be a different person? Would she be like Chloe, a product of nurture over nature? Or would her genetics win out? She's definitely different now. "Did Chloe have a lot of toys growing up?"
"Chloe had too many toys."
"What did she play with?"
"Everything," Julia answers, "Dolls. Barbies. Art supplies. Legos. Tonka trucks. Barbie had many car accidents riding down the stairs in her Tonka truck – which happened to be covered completely in cat stickers."
"Did she have bath toys?"
"Not really. It was usually Barbie crashing her Tonka truck into the water. I think Barbie was either suicidal or a closeted alcoholic, to be honest. Either way, she should have not been allowed to drive. I would walk into the bathroom, and there would be water everywhere, and Ken would be performing CPR…by jumping on Barbie's chest. She and her brother had bath paints at one point, but I took them away, because they kept writing 'my butt is naked' on the wall with a butt print in every color, then leaving it there. They would also then run into each other's rooms, naked, with paint still on their butts, and tauntingly shake their butts at each other until there was a high speed chase through the entirety of the house. I think the worst part is that they turned it into a game, and whoever could make it into the kitchen and dance on top the kitchen table while singing 'my butt is naked, my butt is colorful' without anyone in the house catching them first got a point."
Okay, different family or not, Aubrey would not be caught dead dancing naked on the kitchen table – even as a child.
"You haven't reached peak parenthood until you're scrubbing rainbow paint off your child's behind. For years after that, they would walk around the house, fully-clothed even, singing that song under their breaths. It still gets stuck in my head sometimes when I'm showering; it's terrible."
Aubrey isn't sure how she's ever going to cope if one day she becomes mother to Chloe's kids.
xxxxx
Chloe could never put the plastic bags into Aubrey's plastic bag of plastic bags. The milk bag was still on the counter from the day before, despite Aubrey asking multiple times for her to put it away, and it was now at the point where Aubrey just did it herself. She grabbed it off the counter, looking down in confusion as something fell on the floor – and then bounced back up at her. The stupid bouncy ball Chloe bought for her. That was why Chloe hadn't put the bag away – because she wanted Aubrey to take her ball. Aubrey tried to grab it – and missed. It rolled away, under the table.
Aubrey carried her bag across the room and stuffed it into the bag in the pantry, then came back and got down on her knees. This was degrading. She grabbed the ball, then stood up and gave it a good bounce just to prove to herself that she could catch it. It ricocheted off the ceiling and nearly took out the dishes drying next to the sink, and Aubrey had to chase it into the living room before it could roll somewhere that would make Chloe think she had been playing with it. It was mocking her now. She couldn't just let it win.
She carried it back into the kitchen and bounced it once more – softer this time. It landed in the palm of her hand. She bounced it again. And again. And again. How was this supposed to be fun? Something must be wrong with her. She caught it and looked up, staring at the balcony door. How could Chloe do this for an extended period of time, and Aubrey was bored after two minutes? It was just a ball that hit the floor then bounced back up. She stuffed it into her pocket, then grabbed her morning coffee to drink out on the balcony.
The balcony.
It was a ball that hit the floor then bounced back up.
No, that was a terrible idea. She couldn't just chuck it off the balcony. It could hit somebody. It could go through a car window.
Aubrey let the door open to get some fresh air in the house, and rested her mug on top the railing.
It was early. The street was relatively empty, aside from some old woman walking her dog in the opposite direction of the apartment building. Aubrey peered down over the edge. It wasn't that high up. Sure, it was high enough that she probably wouldn't survive falling, but it's not like she lived in some Manhattan skyscraper.
No. She really shouldn't.
Aubrey looked up and down the street. The coast was clear, aside from Chloe's stupid cat friend chilling in the middle of the street again. She didn't understand how it could just sleep in the middle of the road and still be alive. And, yet… She pulled the ball back out of her pocket and stared at it in the palm of her hand. It made her feel unusually bold.
The cat had noticed her now. It stood up, stretched, then made its way to the sidewalk and looked up at her.
Aubrey had to scoot over, because she couldn't kill the cat – as much as she hated it. She was morally obligated to not be the reason it died.
She really shouldn't do this though.
But she was very tempted. Not because of curiosity, of course. But, because of…science. Yes. Science. How high could such a tiny ball bounce? What did physics have to say about this quarter priced ball from a gumball machine? This was about kinetic energy. Aubrey was obligated to throw this ball in the name of science. She had no other choice.
Aubrey threw it hard toward the ground.
Both she and the cat watched with widening eyes as it slammed into the sidewalk then bounced about two thirds of the way back up – which was much further than she, or the cat apparently, had expected. The second bounce was also impressive. The third was much lower, prompting the cat to lose its shit. It parkoured off a nearby tree, then scrambled down the street after it, catching it just before it could roll into a storm drain. Not wasting a single second, it grabbed its find in its mouth, then took off running.
That little thief.
"Did you just throw something off the balcony?" Chloe asked from behind her.
Aubrey jumped, then spun around. "No, I did not."
"You totally just threw something off the balcony. What did you just throw?"
"Nothing." Aubrey grabbed her mug. "That's ridiculous. Why would I throw something off the balcony, Chloe? "
"Oh my god, did you throw the bouncy ball I got you off the balcony?" Chloe looked far too entertained by such a wild, completely far-fetched idea.
"I did not do that," Aubrey informed her, "And I didn't ask for your company either."
"Do you wanna throw the other one?"
"Goodbye, Chloe." Aubrey stepped forward and closed the balcony door.
xxxxx
"How was the movie?" Beca slips back in the room awhile later with a bag from the gift shop.
"It was good. You should have stayed." It was actually a lot better than Aubrey had expected it to be – enough that she might consider watching a few other movies by the same creator. But, only if Chloe's mom wants to, of course.
"Conrad and I were very busy," Beca informs her.
"What did you guys get up to?" Julia asks.
"Can we clear the table?" Beca replies.
"Sure." Julia stands up and begins moving all of hers and Aubrey's things elsewhere.
Aubrey grabs her doll and places it on the bed, before it can be taken away with everything else.
Beca sits down on the opposite side of the table, and places the bag next to her. She pulls a smaller bag out of the larger one and tears it open, then pours a handful of cheap plastic dinosaurs in front of Aubrey.
Aubrey blinks.
Beca gives her a wide, expectant smile.
"What am I supposed to do with these?" Aubrey asks.
"Play with them," Beca answers like it's obvious, and picks up a blue one, making some sound that Aubrey thinks is what Beca assumes dinosaurs sounded like at her.
Julia laughs and sits down next to her again.
Aubrey gives the ceiling a disbelieving gaze. You know what? Fine. She told herself she would try new things if she survived that island. She looks back down, and begins lining up the dinosaurs by specie and color – glaring and looking up again as Beca grabs a purple stegosaurus right out of her hand. "I was using that."
"Dude, no. What are you doing?"
"They're…waiting in line."
"For what?" Beca asks.
Aubrey picks up a pterodactyl. "I don't know, Beca, the DMV."
"Where D stands for Dinosaur?" Beca slams the stegosaurus down on Aubrey's pterodactyl. "I'm eating you, do something."
"You're an herbivore."
"I'm on the verge of extinction; I'm desperate. Dude, you're gonna get eaten. Fly away."
Aubrey flicks her pterodactyl halfway across the room.
"How are you supposed to use it when it's all the way over there?" Beca asks.
"You said make it fly."
"Yeah, like this." Beca picks up the stegosaurus, which doesn't even have wings, and moves it around in the air.
Aubrey throws herself back against the bed – which is a terrible idea, because it hurts.
"You know what," Julia says, gathering all the dinosaurs into a pile, "Dinosaurs aren't for everyone."
"But Aubrey knows super fun facts about them," Beca reminds them all.
Julia chokes a little bit, and quickly covers it by coughing and pretending to need to cover her mouth.
Aubrey throws one dinosaur at Beca. Then another. And another. And she would throw them at Chloe's mom too for laughing at her, but she can't do that. "They're eating you, Beca, do something."
"Ow!" Beca doubles over laughing and throws them back – which just gives Aubrey the opportunity to throw them at her again. "Aubrey, stop!"
"Maybe you should try flying away."
Julia grabs her hand to stop her from throwing more.
"What was the one about prison officials using Barney as torture?" Beca asks.
"Leave her be," Julia says, "You all had too much to drink that night. I'm sure you made some interesting decisions too."
…like kissing Aubrey. "It wasn't a decision, it was a dare," Aubrey says.
"That you decided to take." Beca begins sweeping the dinosaurs back into the bag.
Aubrey pulls her hand back and fusses with the blanket. She can't even say anything, or Chloe's mom is going to pull her in the hallway to 'talk'. So, she decides to be the bigger person and be silent – and sulk in her embarrassment.
"Aubrey…" Julia tries to hug her, doing a mock pout when Aubrey flinches away from her. "Bunny, I told you it wasn't a big deal."
"I thought this might happen…" Beca says, "So, I got something else."
"Is that why you got the dinosaurs?" Aubrey asks, "So you could make fun of me?"
"I got the dinosaurs, because I like dinosaurs," Beca says, laying a Lisa Frank coloring book and a pack of crayons on the table.
"Beca, while I appreciate your effort," Aubrey says slowly, not appreciating this at all, "The things you bought are for children. There are children in this hospital that will now not have anything to play with, so you should probably go return it all. Think of the children."
"I love to color," Julia says and opens the coloring book, "I find it to be very relaxing."
Of course, she does.
"Oh, look at this one, Bunny." Julia shows her a page with multiple rabbits that seem to have gotten into buckets of paint. "Let's color this one."
Aubrey watches her carefully tear it along the crease, then hand the book back to Beca to find a picture. She grabs a brown crayon and focuses on a rabbit near the corner.
"They're covered in paint," Beca points out, "Bright, colorful paint."
"This one hasn't hopped over there, because it doesn't want to die from chemicals in wet paint that are toxic to animals." Aubrey covers the spots on her rabbit brown, just like they should be.
Julia smiles and colors one on the other side of the page bright pink.
Aubrey picks up a light green to color the grass.
"The grass has paint on it too," Beca comments, not looking up from coloring a dark green snow leopard.
Julia offers her a wider variety of colors, and Aubrey picks blue to color the sky.
xxxxx
Their picture just looks strange in the end – a clashing madness of realism and color that follows no rhyme or reason. It looks even stranger than Beca's snow scene turned into lush frozen greenery. At least hers follows some sort of theme. It might be more relaxing with a different book, Aubrey decides, one where rabbits are meant to be brown and snow leopards are meant to be white. Maybe she'll send Brian out later to find her a book that makes sense.
"Just wait until we get to New York," Beca says, and boxes up the crayons, "I also got a rubber duck for the bath."
xxxxx
It turned out, not only did the supermarket have small bouncy balls for a quarter, it also had larger ones for fifty cents – and Aubrey's change jar was suddenly out of quarters. "Go away," she hissed down over the balcony at the cat, who was waiting eagerly to catch its rubber prey, "Shoo!" She glared as its tail twitched back and forth. Stupid cat. Whatever. It wasn't like she'd find them after she threw them anyway. Let it have its fun before a car hit it – or a ball. She wouldn't even pay attention to it.
Aubrey took a drink of her morning coffee, checked to make sure the coast was clear (looking inside this time as well), then excitedly sent the balls she bought free falling, one at a time, off the balcony – all twenty of them. In the name of science, of course.
I'm up among the stars,
I'm up among the stars.
I'm in the super time machine,
And I'm on the way to Mars.
