FromTumblr: She was in no way mediocre, actually. It kind of surprised me she did the whole dream thing. I do use she/her pronouns. You wanna pay me a living wage? Lol.
SunDanceQT: Yay Beca!
EagleSenior: The "I'm killing everyone" joke still hasn't gotten old to me.
RJRMovieFan: Not completely stripped of everyone.
Mscollywogs: You were the first one to get the reference. Heh.
Andiclauds: Maybe you do know her, maybe you don't.
Pixie1913: I am not judging any more than I usually do.
Joanshea: There is a lot happening rn. What did you know?
96itadakimasu96: You'll see soon enough.
Arrhythmia
It hurts my heart,
To see you cry.
I know it's dark,
This part of life.
Oh, it finds us all,
And we're too small,
To stop the rain.
Oh, but when it rains...
- Rascal Flatts
"Don't call me that," Aubrey said, "That isn't my name."
"You won't tell me your name," the woman reminded her, "What do you want me to call you?"
Nothing. Aubrey ignored her. She had never ignored an adult so blatantly before.
"Do your parents always leave you alone?" the woman asked.
Do you ever stop talking? "I'm very independent," Aubrey informed her.
"I can see that," the woman replied, "You seem very mature."
Aubrey glanced at her. No. She would not be swayed by niceties. Stop talking to her, Aubrey. Don't encourage her. "I am." Gosh darn it, Aubrey.
"I would probably want to to be alone if I had brothers that yelled at me like that, too," the woman commented, "So, you didn't get to ride any rides today?"
Aubrey twisted the map in her hands. "I am going to ride a ride right now." This woman had been listening in, and now she was trying to just feel bad for Aubrey. Aubrey hated her.
"Are you hungry?" the woman asked, "Did you eat today?"
What was this – an interrogation? "I had breakfast and lunch." And Aubrey imagined they'd have dinner on the way back to the hotel.
"What did you have for lunch?"
"Fruit and carrots." It didn't sound like much, but it was. Whenever they went out to eat, Aubrey's brothers hated that kids' meals usually came with mixed fruit and a vegetable – and Aubrey was generally never a fan of the greasy entrées. So she had exchanged her chicken fingers in return for their fruit bowls and carrot sticks.
"I was just asking, because I could really go for some ice cream right now, and I finally see a place right there." The woman motioned off to the side at a little ice cream shop. "Do you want some?"
No. Yes. Definitely not. No. No. No. Maybe a little. Her dad had given her twenty dollars. Aubrey shook her head. "No, thank you, Ma'am."
"Let's stop, because I want to eat some."
What?! Hadn't Aubrey specifically said she was in a hurry?
"I'll be real fast," the woman said, "I promise."
Aubrey stared at her as she took a few steps toward the shop. She could run. How likely was it this woman would ever find her again? Nothing was stopping her. Except she had pledged her assistance, and it wasn't right to go back on her word.
"Come on." The woman held out her hand and placed it on Aubrey's back as Aubrey trudged past her.
Aubrey rolled her shoulders and took a few hastened steps to get away from her touch.
"How about you stand right here and wait for me," the woman suggested once they reached the corner of the building.
Aubrey moved to slouch against the bricks, but quickly caught herself. Stand up straight, Aubrey.
"I'll be right back."
Great. Aubrey would be there.
xxxxx
There is no time for form. Aubrey hits and kicks and scratches and tries to push him away with as much strength as she can muster – which isn't nearly enough.
"Audrey, stop!" Luke yells at her, "I'm on your side!"
No, he isn't. No, he isn't. She saw him take Benji and Jesse at gunpoint, and now he has her pinned to a tree. Aubrey tries dropping to the ground to get away, but he pulls her back up.
"Beca!" Aubrey tries screaming over the rain again.
Luke lifts the rifle sideways and presses it against her throat – preventing her from screaming, preventing her from breathing.
xxxxx
The woman leaned over the ice cream counter, halfway inside the window, speaking so quietly that Aubrey could barely hear her. "Hey, I found a litt-"
Aubrey could see her family walking her way from several feet away. They didn't see her, but what would they do if they did? Interrogate her about why she was getting ice cream instead of what she had told them she was going to do? Change their minds about letting her navigate the park alone? She inched sideways along the wall, then ducked under the metal shelf below the window, hiding between the shop and the woman.
The woman stopped talking and looked at her, then in the direction she was staring. "Two small vanillas in dishes, with rainbow sprinkles, please."
Aubrey's family kept walking, grinning and talking amongst themselves, not taking one notice of Aubrey.
"You're going to eat two?" Aubrey asked, "That's going to take forever. You're going to get fat." She knew she was pushing her limits, just waiting for this stranger to haul off and nail her for speaking to her like she'd speak to people her own age. For some odd reason, she kind of wanted that to happen. Maybe because that would feel normal; because, this, right here, felt wrong.
"I don't think two ice creams are going to make me fat," the woman replied. Why did she sound amused? "Come on, Bunny-girl." She took her bowls and stepped away from the counter.
"I said stop calling me that."
"Then give me a name." The woman put the ice creams down at a picnic table and pushed one away from her, toward Aubrey's direction as she sat down.
One of them was for her? What was this lady's deal? Maybe she was going to take Aubrey and sell her for drug money.
"You don't have to eat it," the woman said, "But it's yours, if you want it."
Aubrey stared at it. It would be rude not to eat it. This woman had bought it for her. Maybe she had change for a twenty, and Aubrey could pay her for it. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her money.
"Put that away," the woman said, "This is my treat."
Aubrey continued to offer it to her. "I have money."
"Only twenty dollars," the woman replied, "I have unlimited money." She pulled a card out of her pocket and showed it to Aubrey.
"You still have to pay back a credit card," Aubrey pointed out.
"Oh, this is no credit card." The woman took the twenty from Aubrey and slipped it back into Aubrey's pocket. "This is my husband's debit card. I don't have to pay a dime."
Aubrey had never heard of a debit card before. "How does it work?"
The woman patted the bench.
Aubrey slowly sat.
"See, my husband works," the woman said, "And then I spend his money."
"That doesn't sound fair."
"And in return…" The woman holds up a finger. "I feed him and make sure our kids don't die."
"You don't have a job?" Aubrey asked curiously.
"I do."
Aubrey needed a moment to process this.
"Come on." The woman put the card back in her purse then reached forward and brushed a stray strand of hair behind Aubrey's ear, dodging Aubrey's hand as it flew up to protect her face. Aubrey was a little cautious after the nose thing. "What's your name, Honey-Bunny?"
Well, it was better than 'Bunny-girl', at least. This woman did just buy her ice cream. Aubrey stood up with an air of defeat, and held out her hand. "Aubrey Lynn Posen."
"Since we're being so formal," the woman said, shaking her hand, "Jillian."
"How is that formal?" Aubrey sat back down and picked up her bowl of ice cream. It was just her first name.
"No one ever calls me that," Jillian said, "Except my mother-in-law. Goodness, I hate that woman. She says if my mother wanted me to be called a nickname, she would have named me that. I really want to see her face if she ever finds out it was also my mother who gave me a nickname. But I hate her for more reasons too. Do people call you 'Aubrey Lynn Posen'?"
Aubrey shook her head – only when she was in a lot of trouble. "Why?"
"Why what?" Jillian asked then took a bite of her ice cream.
Aubrey followed her lead, swallowing before speaking again. "Why do you hate her?"
"You know, she's just one of those people that…" Jillian paused. "I feel like I try so hard to please her, but nothing I do is ever right."
Oh. Aubrey knew how that was. She looked down, feeling a little guilty now.
"A few days ago, she called me before work to ask if I could run by the store and grab her some canned corn on my way home later. I brought it to her, only to find out she had found some in her pantry and didn't need it anymore. She got mad at me for not calling to make sure she still needed it. It's like even when I do something right, it's still not right, you know?"
Aubrey nodded – just barely. She definitely knew. She poked her spoon at her ice cream.
"I'm sorry you know what that's like, too," Jillian said, "It's a terrible feeling."
Aubrey turned to face the table, hyper focusing on the ice cream. She had said too much. Aubrey's feelings didn't matter – not to her family, not to herself, and definitely not to this weird lady. She stabbed her spoon against a few sprinkles, pushing them into the ice cream.
"You seem angry," Jillian pointed out.
Aubrey shook her head. She wasn't angry. She wasn't anything.
"Okay." Jillian nodded and went back to eating.
xxxxx
"Stop," Aubrey mouths silently, begging, "Please…" She lifts her hands to the rifle and tries to push on it.
Luke loosens it, but not by much.
"I never did anything to you!" Aubrey cries, "I didn't even know you!"
"I didn't mean to kill anybody," Luke tells her, "It wasn't my choice."
Aubrey needs Chloe. She needs Beca. Never has she needed Beca before, but she'd do anything for her presence right now. Anything.
"I am on your side!" Luke repeats and slams the rifle into her throat again.
"Please…" Aubrey is shaking in terror. "Let me go. I believe you. Please, let me go." She's going to die like this. He's going to asphyxiate her. She sobs and claws at her throat – her knees buckling and her bladder giving out on her, sending a sudden rush of warmth down her legs.
"I'm trying to help you right now."
"Luke, I can't breathe." She can't get the words out clearly. She pushes harder against the rifle. "I can't breathe." She's going to pass out. The world is getting blurry. She chokes and tries to lean her head back to open her airways more.
Luke eases up on the pressure he's using to keep her against the tree – enough that Aubrey can move. She gasps for a breath and knees him in the groin, grabbing the gun as he goes down. Only thinking in a rush to get away, she slams the handle down on his back, leaving it as it slips out of her hands, and takes off running.
By the time it occurs to her she should have shot him, it's too risky to turn around and go back.
xxxxx
"So, what's so important about this ride?" Jillian asked as they threw away their cups and began walking again.
After eating in silence, Aubrey thought she had finally found peace, but she was wrong. "I want to talk about it at school," she answered.
"You want to tell all your friends?"
Sure, if one wanted to call them that.
"Do you have a best friend?" Jillian asked.
Of course not. Who had time for a best friend? Or any friends? Not Aubrey. She nodded.
"What's his or her name?" Jillian asked.
Now Aubrey had to come up with something and lie. She hated lying. Sometimes, the little white lies were necessary. But not the lies that required an entire story that she would have to make up and then remember. "Kit," she answered the name of her doll.
"What do you guys like to do together?"
"Read." This was easy enough. Aubrey wasn't exactly lying.
"That's it?" Jillian asked, "Just read?"
Aubrey shook her head. "She watches me sing."
"You like singing?"
Now that was something Aubrey didn't mind talking about.
"I have a daughter probably about your age who loves to sing," Jillian said, "She actually went through a very extended phase where she would only sing."
"Where is she?" Aubrey asked.
"I have no idea," Jillian answered, "Somewhere around here. She took off with my husband and son a few hours ago. She told me I was slowing them down. Can you believe that?"
Aubrey just looked at her, because, yes, yes, Aubrey could believe that.
Jillian laughed. "Wow. You two would get along just fine."
"What's she like?" Aubrey asked.
"What's she like…" Jillian hummed, thinking, "She is sweeter than candy – absolutely the kindest. She loves music and outer space and animals. She's really been begging for a cat lately, but my son is allergic, so I'm sure she'll have roughly ten of them when she grows up and moves out." She laughed. "She's adorable, and, unfortunately, she knows it."
"Does she look like you?" Aubrey asked.
"Well…" Jillian stopped for a moment. "We both have blue eyes."
"I bet she's beautiful," Aubrey said. As irritating as this woman was, it was hard to deny that she was very pretty. She had deep blue eyes, brown, wavy hair, a soft, kind smile… She could imagine her daughter looking exactly like her. "Why is your hair brown, but blonde at the top?"
"Well, I dyed it," Jillian answered, "And then, I got too busy to keep up with the maintenance."
Oh. Aubrey stared up at her. So her daughter had blonde hair, probably – like Aubrey.
"Well, we're at your ride," Jillian said.
Aubrey quickly looked away from her to stare at the building in the distance instead.
"But, I don't think they let kids ride the rides alone, Honey-Bunny."
"What?" Aubrey asked out loud, not really directed at her. They had to. She didn't have anyone to ride with. She tried to think if JJ had ridden any rides alone. No, because Liam had wanted to ride all the rides, and he was definitely too small to ride without their father. (Aubrey almost wished she had ridden a few rides with them, just to experience the sight of their father on a ride.) A lump formed in the back of her throat.
"I can ride it with you," Jillian offered, "I have time."
Aubrey just looked at it. Maybe she could convince whoever was in charge of letting people on the ride…
"Hey." Jillian knelt down beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "I can ride it with you. We can talk about singing in line."
Aubrey glanced at her out of the corner of her eyes. Being touched wasn't actually as uncomfortable as Aubrey thought it was. It eased her disappointment a little. She swallowed hard and looked at her feet, deliberating.
"I can see you really want to ride it," Jillian said, "What's stopping you?"
Aubrey didn't know. She did really want to ride it, and here this woman was offering to ride it with her so she could. She looked up again, feeling stuck to the pavement.
Jillian stood up, leaving Aubrey feeling a little colder than before. She offered out her hand.
Aubrey stared at it – surprised she didn't just grab her like her father did. She wrung her hands together in front of her, pressing her thumb into her palm.
Jillian nodded and placed her hands in her back pockets. "I think you're going to leave here disappointed if you don't come get on this ride."
Aubrey was already disappointed at the thought of it.
"Did you know," Jillian asked, "That this ride was actually created in 1964 for-"
"The New York World's Fair," Aubrey finished her sentence. She wished she had been alive to see it. One day – she was going to go to Flushing Meadows – Corona Park, Queens, and imagine what it had been like. The original ride had been moved to Disneyland though; this one was just a duplicate.
"My daughter loves looking at pictures of The Unisphere," Jillian said, "She's convinced I'm going to take her to Queens one day so she can see it."
"She knows about the New York World's Fair?" Aubrey asked.
"She knows about The Unisphere," Jillian answered, "Come ride this ride before you run out of time."
Aubrey looked at her watch. Lines at Disneyworld were long. She would run out of time if she didn't make the choice to ride it soon. She took a few hesitant steps before fully making her choice to go ride it with this woman. "Fine. But I don't want to hold your hand." Just maybe a little. Stop it, Aubrey.
Jillian kept her hands in her pockets. "Okay."
xxxxx
The flashlight isn't in Aubrey's hand anymore. She doesn't even realize she must have dropped it while Luke was choking her, until she's running through the pitch black, trying to dodge trees and roots, slipping through the mud. She slows down along with the rain. The woods are thick, and she doesn't have any idea where the hell she is.
A huge tree catches her as she stumbles forward, supporting her upright. She leans forward into it, pressing her face and the pads of her fingers into the bark. "Chloe!" What if Chloe is dead? She can't be. Aubrey would feel it if Chloe were dead, right? She loves her so much that somehow she would know the moment Chloe died. She would know. She can't be dead. She can't. No. She moans into the tree and slowly shakes her head. She loves Chloe too much to be without her. So, she has to keep herself going.
Aubrey breathes. Slow, deep, purposeful breaths through her mouth. Her entire body is shaking out of her control – out of cold, fear, exertion. She takes another breath and tries to ground herself. She can feel the tree. She can hear the rain. She can smell the mud. Her mouth tastes sour. She can see the outline of the other trees around her. Another breath that's too desperate for air. She wipes her face with her sleeve – but she's unable to dry it.
She has to keep trying.
"Beca!" she yells again.
xxxxx
Wow.
The line for It's A Small World was located inside the building.
It felt like Aubrey had entered another world.
If portals to other dimensions were real (they weren't, but if they were), this is what they would feel like; Aubrey was sure of it.
She looked around in awe at the interior of the building – at the gold and white buildings lining the walls. At the clock tower.
Magic was as real as portals wete – but this must be why everyone claimed that Disneyworld was full of it.
"Wow…" Aubrey finally voiced the thought in a breathy whisper.
"I have been in here a hundred times, and it still takes my breath away," Jillian commented.
"A hundred times?" Aubrey asked.
"I live in Florida," Jillian answered and leaned against the railing once they reached the back of the line, "We come here every summer. Where do you live?"
Aubrey looked at her, then at the railing. They were allowed to lean? She tested her limits by first putting her hand on it, then crossed her arms on the top of it and rested her face against her arms. No one grabbed her by the collar to pull her upright. "Virginia. Sometimes."
"Sometimes?" Jillian asked.
Aubrey nodded. "My father is in the army," she said, "Sometimes, we move with him, but sometimes we stay at our house in Virginia."
"Where at in Virginia?"
"McLean."
"Do you like it?"
Aubrey shifted from one foot the other. "You said we could talk about music."
"You're very right," Jillian said, "I did say that. What is your favorite music?"
"Dixie Chicks," Aubrey answered without missing a beat, "Oh, and Dolly Parton."
"Dolly Parton, huh?" Jillian asked.
Aubrey nodded and turned around, learning back against the railing. "I know I'm a little young to know about Dolly Parton, but she is an icon."
"I love her too," Jillian said, "I was probably about fifteen when I learned who she was, because my parents took me to Dollywood."
"What?" Aubrey gasped, jumping up straight, clutching her arms up against her chest, "Was it the most exciting place in the entire world?" It had to be. That was where Aubrey would have preferred to go on vacation, if she wasn't so intent on telling her class about Disneyworld. Not that her father would ever take her there. No one but Aubrey wanted to go there.
"It was," Jillian said, kneeling down to eye-level with her, "They have this 4-D theater, and when you walk in, it smells like apple pie and flowers. They take you through the smoky mountains, and Dolly sings about how she grew up." She sings a few lines, "Farmer's daughter, if you will, and I often wonder still in the memories where I rambled as a child. Makes me cry and makes me laugh, my reflections on the past, and the family, friends, and faith that shaped my life…"
Aubrey stared at her – enamored. Her voice was beautiful. "Heartsong."
"Mhm." Jillian nodded. "And all of these fall leaves flutter to the ground, and it rains in the theater." She rained her fingers down from above her head until they were tapping on Aubrey's shoulders.
Aubrey wished she could see it.
"Did you know it was Dolly Parton who originally sung I Will Always Love You?" Jillian asked.
Aubrey nodded quickly. "Everyone at school thinks it was Whitney Houston, but, actually, she covered it in 1992. Dolly wrote it and recorded it in 1973."
"Whose version do you like better?" Jillian asked.
Aubrey blinked. What kind of cruel question was that? Whitney Houston was amazing. But she couldn't betray Dolly. "I will have to think about it." She would never think about it again.
"You said you like to sing," Jillian said, "Sing me something."
"Right here?" Aubrey asked. Could she not see where they were? "There are people." This wasn't like performing in the choir.
The line moved, and Jillian stood up to move with it. "None of these people are paying any attention to us," she said, "They're busy with their own lives."
Aubrey looked up and down the line. Jillian was right; no one was so much as even looking at them.
"I don't think I've ever heard of The Dixie Chicks," Jillian told her, "Enlighten me."
Never heard of The Dixie Chicks?! Aubrey nearly had an aneurysm. That was not acceptable. It was not acceptable. This lady was really going to make Aubrey sing for her, wasn't she? Aubrey wouldn't do it. She wouldn't. No. Nope. Nein. Non. Darn it. She motioned Jillian to come back closer to her.
Jillian moved forward with the line again before kneeling back down.
Aubrey looked around again. Her stomach started to feel kind of sick. But how had she never heard of The Dixie Chicks? She didn't listen to the radio? It made sense prior to this year when they weren't well known – but once Wide Open Spaces was released… It didn't make sense to Aubrey that someone could have never heard them. Unless, Jillian had heard them on the radio and just didn't know it. That was probably it. She decided to pick the song she heard most on the channel she listened to at home.
Okay.
She could do this.
I can't find a reason to let go,
Even though you found a new love,
And she's what your dreams are made of.
I can a find a reason to hang on.
What went wrong can be forgiven,
Without you, it ain't worth livin',
Alone.
Sometimes, I wake up crying at night.
And, sometimes, I scream out your name.
What right does she have to take you away,
When for so long you were mine?
I remember when you were mine.
"You have a beautiful voice," Jillian said, "Have you ever tried A Capella?"
Aubrey gave her a curious look. She didn't even know how to say that.
"What?" Jillian placed hand on her chest. Apparently, she felt the same way about Aubrey not knowing A Ca-something as Aubrey felt about her not knowing who The Dixie Chicks were.
"What is that?" Aubrey asked. It occurred to her suddenly that she had asked this lady roughly a hundred questions, and she hadn't yet once told Aubrey to stop.
"Well, it's music," Jillian said, "But it's all from your mouth."
Aubrey tilted her head. "So, it's singing?"
"No, you make all of the instrument noises too," Jillian explained.
"Do you do it?" Aubrey asked.
"I used to," Jillian said.
Aubrey needed to understand now. "Show me."
"Okay." Jillian nodded. "This is my son's favorite. This might gain us some attention." She winked at Aubrey then pressed her lips together and made an impressively realistic trumpet sound, mimicking playing the instrument with her hands.
Aubrey clamped her hand over her mouth to suppress a laugh.
"Oh, was that funny?" Jillian asked, grinning at her.
Aubrey shook her head and tried to stop smiling, still hiding her mouth. She had a hundred more questions now.
"Then why are you laughing? Should I do it again?" Jillian didn't wait for an answer. She made the sound again, tickling Aubrey's sides this time.
Aubrey dissolved into a fit of giggles, somehow collapsing into her as she tried to get away.
"I thought it wasn't funny," Jillian said, not letting up, "Why're you laughing, Bunny-girl?"
Because she was being tickled to her death! Aubrey panted for air as Jillian finally released her. She immediately straightened her dress then touched her hair to make sure it wasn't messy. No one was even looking at them – still, how embarrassing. "Show me more…what was it?"
"A Capella," Jillian said, then they said it together, "A Capella."
A Capella. Aubrey drilled the word into her brain.
"Give me a song," Jillian said.
Hm. Well, she didn't know Dixie Chicks, but she liked Dolly. "9-5?"
"Okay, this is going to be a little difficult with one person," Jillian said, "You sing the words, okay?"
Aubrey nodded, and took her through the first verse and the chorus, completely fascinated. Her heart felt like it was going to pound right out of her chest. She needed to know everything about this. "Teach me."
"I don't think we have a lot of time," Jillian said, "Are you sure? A Capella is hard work. It takes a lot of practice."
Even better. "I learn quickly," Aubrey assured her. She rested her hands on Jillian's shoulders and looked her in the eyes. "Please?"
"Only if you twirl your dress for me," Jillian said.
"You drive a hard bargain," Aubrey informed her.
Jillian laughed and stood up, taking one of Aubrey's hands. "Ready?" She twirled Aubrey around twice, then caught her as she collapsed shyly into her.
Aubrey didn't want to release her hand. Unfortunately, she had to. She couldn't just go around holding strangers' hands. She stood up and took a reluctant step back, straightening herself back up.
"I guess I don't have to teach you posture," Jillian commented.
Aubrey shook her head.
"Alright, well, it looks like I'm an A Capella teacher now. Let's do it."
xxxxx
"Aubrey!"
Beca. Aubrey tries to look around. The rain has let up, but she still can't see. "Beca!"
"Keep yelling!" Beca calls back.
Aubrey isn't sure she has enough wind for that, but she tries to engage in this fucked up game of Marco Polo. "Beca!"
"Aubrey!"
"Beca!"
"Jesus Christ!" Beca finally comes jogging through the bushes. "Where the hell did you go?!"
Where the hell did she go? Aubrey props herself sideways against the tree. "Luke…" All she can do is make an ambiguous hand motion that she's sure Beca can't see.
"Are you okay?" Beca finally gets to her. Her hands are suddenly on Aubrey's cheeks. "Where's the light?"
"I don't know." Aubrey wraps her in a hug – the tightest she can manage. "I thought you died."
"I didn't. I didn't. I'm not dead."
Aubrey pulls back. The relief from the rain was short lived, and it begins to pour again. They're going to catch pneumonia out here.
"You saw Luke?!" Beca shouts, "Were Jesse and Benji with him?!"
"No!" The rain comes down in sheets, and Aubrey grabs her by the hand so she won't lose her again.
"Aubrey, we can't stay out here in this!"
Aubrey doesn't know where to go. The trees are providing little shelter, and she couldn't even navigate to the town now if she wanted to. "Chloe is out here in this." Injured. Wet. Cold. She shakes her head, trying to shake away the worry consuming her.
"So is Luke! Why didn't you shoot at him?!"
Because she was thinking more about her own immediate survival. She can't take doing anything else wrong. Nothing else can be her fault, because that would mean anything that happens so to Chloe is her fault. If Chloe dies, it's because of her. Aubrey leans forward with her free hand on her knees as more sharp pain shoots through her chest. The intensity of it turns her stomach, and she retches loudly, nothing coming up.
"Aubrey!" Beca squeezes her hand.
Aubrey is fine. She's fine. They can't stay here in the middle of the forest, drowning. She powers forward, dragging Beca along with her, no clue where she's going. Eventually, they have to end up somewhere.
xxxxx
45 minutes. That's how long it took them to move through the line, and how long Jillian taught her the basics of A Capella. Aubrey gobbled it up. She was almost, almost disappointed when it was their turn to board one of the boats.
Jillian climbed down from the platform first, then reached her arms out and helped Aubrey into the boat.
"I can do it myself," Aubrey informed her, even though she still accepted the help.
"I know." Jillian sat down by the edge.
They had the front row. The perfect spot. Aubrey sat down next to her, scooting over so their arms were touching when some guy sat down beside them. The seats were wide. Aubrey had space. Plenty of space. She turned and lifted herself up onto her knees, leaning over to whisper in her ear. "He's making me claustrophobic," she explained their close proximity, before sitting down right up against her.
"Oh no," Jillian said, "Do you want to switch spots?"
Aubrey shook her head. "If I'm in the middle, I can see everything."
"Okay." Jillian draped her arm over the back of the seat.
Aubrey pressed into her side. To get away from the other stranger beside her, of course. Not because she suddenly craved to be closer to this woman. That wasn't it at all. It had nothing to do with that. This woman was completely strange. But, also, 'hate' was a strong word, and maybe Aubrey had jumped to think it too quickly. But it still had nothing to do with wanting to be close to her.
The ride began after the whole 'keep your hands and feet inside' spiel.
"You ready?" Jillian asked.
Aubrey scooted her bottom to the edge of the seat, and sat up even straighter than usual, her back fully extended. She had waited all day for this. And it was just as amazing as she thought it was going to be. She sat mesmerized by the dolls, the scenery representing the different countries, the music, the experience as a whole. She wanted to ride it over and over like her brothers had done with Space Mountain. If only she had time.
But, she didn't.
For an almost fifteen minute ride, it sure didn't last that long. It was as though Aubrey blinked and it was over. Giant signs lined the last few feet – all of them saying 'Goodbye' in a different language. The sight made her chest tighten a little – in a bad way.
"That was fun," Jillian said as the boat pulled up to the exit dock, "Was it everything you thought it would be?"
Aubrey nodded, remaining seated as everyone stood up. She didn't want to get off the boat. She had to let the man beside her off though.
Jillian stepped up onto the dock and offered her her hands. "Here."
Aubrey turned and took them. Just like that, the ride was over. She looked at her watch. It was 7:30. That gave her 45 minutes to walk to the exit. Her father might have said 8:30, but if she wasn't there by 8:15, she knew he'd leave without her. He always said, 'Anything earlier than fifteen minutes looks too eager; anything later makes you look like you don't care.'
"Do you have to meet your parents soon?" Jillian asked.
Aubrey nodded.
"Do you want me to walk you there?"
"I thought you had somewhere around here you had to be," Aubrey reminded her.
"You showed me the way once," Jillian said, "I'm sure I can find it again."
Aubrey didn't really want to say goodbye right here, right now. She nodded and followed her out the exit.
It was chillier outside than it was before they went in. Aubrey folded her arms, and rubbed her hands up and down her bare skin for a moment before she pulled the map out of her pocket.
Jillian knelt down and began digging through her bag as Aubrey sorted out how to get from where they were to the park exit. She pulled out a light blue sweatshirt and pulled it down over Aubrey's head before Aubrey had a chance to protest. "This is my daughter's," she said, "But last I checked, she had roughly ten shirts that say 'Barden Bellas' on them, so I think she'll get over me giving it away – eventually."
Aubrey looked down at it. "What's a Barden Bella?"
"That is my daughter's favorite A Capella group," Jillian explained.
"Did you sing for them?" Aubrey asked. She studied the shirt. She couldn't just take this girl's clothes. She wasn't poor; she had her own clothes. She just didn't have a jacket with her. This was Florida. It was supposed to be warm!
"Oh, goodness, no," Jillian answered. "The Barden Bellas sing competitively. I couldn't handle that. My group didn't even have a name. It was more of a club."
"Oh."
"But, my kid…" Jillian fixed the bottom of the sweatshirt then brushed some invisible dust from Aubrey's shoulders, "…is determined to become a Barden Bella and win The World Championship of A Capella – or whatever she keeps trying to tell me to avoid going to bed." She smiled.
"Do you think she will?" Aubrey asked.
"Who knows," Jillian answered, "You should check them out. Maybe you'll become a Barden Bella and win The World Championship of A Capella."
…winning the World Championship of anything sounded appealing to Aubrey. Her father would definitely be proud of her then. If only her father let her use the computer outside of schoolwork. She'd never have the opportunity to watch videos of them. "I wouldn't want to take that from her." She had never met this woman's daughter, but she sounded like someone who deserved to win.
"Well, they're a team, Honey-Bunny. It's not just one person who wins." Jillian stood up. "Are you ready?"
Aubrey froze up a little. Was she ready to leave? Was she ready to get in the car and be poked and prodded by her brothers as they started arguments with her, or to listen to her father berate her? The sick feeling in her stomach started again. She nodded and began to lead the way.
xxxxx
It's a fallen tree that finally offers them some protection and shields them from the direct impact of the weather.
They nearly trip over one of its roots.
Beca tries to go around it, but Aubrey pulls her down to the ground, and they crawl under the rotting wood on their hands and knees. It's a tight space. They struggle to turn themselves around to sit – then huddle squeezed together, tree bark pressing uncomfortably into Aubrey's thigh and back. She pulls her knees up, slides her arms in through her sweatshirt sleeves to wrap them around herself, and curls into Beca for warmth. But they're both freezing. Beca is shaking like a leaf too.
She's useless – leaving Chloe out there alone to just hope Aubrey might find her.
Beca pulls her arms inside her sleeves and draws her knees up to her chest as well. Her head lulls against Aubrey's. "We can't die here."
But they're going to. On this island. Possibly even huddled together under this log. Aubrey tries to come to terms with it. She tries to reason with herself that if Chloe is dead, there is no point in surviving this anyway. If Chloe dies, Aubrey can only pray they kill her too. But she can't get through the terror of it.
"We can't…" Beca shifts around, gasping for air too.
Aubrey realizes she's talking to herself. It's easier to hear under the tree. "We won't." She doesn't believe it one bit. She slides her arms back out through her sleeves to wrap them around Beca. "We won't die here."
Beca slides her arms back out too and wraps them around Aubrey's.
Aubrey is fairly certain that before one dies of hyperthermia, they start to feel warm. So she tells herself it's a good sign that she's colder than she's ever been in her entire life. She sniffles and squeezes Beca tighter.
"Tell me something you've never told anyone," Beca says, also trying to huddle in closer.
Aubrey realizes it's dangerous to sit there in silence. Time passes more slowly. They risk falling asleep. "You first."
"After my mom found out my dad was having an affair, she just drank and drank until her liver gave out. Everyone thinks she died because she got sick. No one would believe she was a drunk, if I told them." Beca looks at her.
Aubrey realizes it's her turn, and there are some things better left on earth than taken to the grave. "My dad was a firm man." Sitting here, thinking about it, reviewing her entire life in her head, he doesn't seem so worth defending. "He hit me."
"And you never told anyone?" Beca asks.
Aubrey opens her mouth to say never, but her words catch in her throat. She's convinced herself for so long it's been never that it often feels like the truth. "I tried once. There was this lady. She was really nice." She tries not to think about her anymore – which is difficult with how impactful she had been, changing Aubrey's entire life. "I thought she was going to help me. But she never followed through."
xxxxx
The walk back was quieter than the walk there. Aubrey wanted to be asked more questions. She tried to think of questions to ask her, but it was hard to focus. In her head, she just kept seeing all the signs that spelled out 'goodbye'. At some point, she began to drag her feet, a big no-no, but she had to make this walk last. She purposely fell behind, kicking at pebbles and cracks in the asphalt. She wasn't ready to say goodbye. They had just met!
"You okay?" Jillian asked, slowing to walk beside her. She reached for Aubrey's hand, but Aubrey pulled back.
This was Aubrey's fault. It was Aubrey who had agreed to help her, who had accepted ice cream, who had let her show her A Capella, and take her on a ride. It was her fault they had to say goodbye. No. It was this lady's fault for approaching her. Maybe 'hate' wasn't such a strong word after all. She could feel herself getting worked up quickly. It was definitely Aubrey's fault – just like everything else. But she didn't have to admit to it. And she could make this woman hate her too – and then they'd both be happy to say goodbye to each other.
Aubrey spun to the side and lifted a hand to hit her.
"Whoa." Jillian grabbed her hand, and knelt down next to her, "No, Ma'am."
Aubrey lifted her other hand, but this woman had quick reflexes.
"You may not hit me, Aubrey," Jillian said calmly, "No, thank you. Hitting is for self-defense only. Do you know what that means?"
Aubrey almost hit her. Aubrey almost hit an adult.
"It means we only hit people when they're hurting us, and we need them to stop," Jillian explained.
Couldn't this woman see she was hurting her, and that Aubrey needed her to stop?! Aubrey clenched her jaw, her breaths coming heavy from her nose.
"Do people hit you?" Jillian asked, "Is that why you think it's okay to express your feelings by hitting me? Because I know you have a lot of words that you are very capable of expressing yourself with."
Aubrey didn't think it was okay to hit her when she thought about it rationally. She didn't think it was okay to hit anyone. Did this woman know that she got hit? No. How could she? But, if she did, she'd know how often Aubrey was in trouble – a bad egg.
"Hm?" Jillian tilted her head. "Why are you so angry at me right now? I don't think I've been anything but kind to you, right?"
Aubrey wasn't angry at her. She was angry at life. She was angry at everything. This woman had been kind – so kind. And Aubrey had repayed her by trying to hit her. Her stomach dropped, and she pulled her hands away to hold it.
Jillian was watching her curiously – and Aubrey felt like a spotlight was pointed down on her. Everybody was probably watch her, staring at her, knowing she just tried to hit someone who had been so nice to her. She wrapped her arms completely around her stomach and looked around for somewhere to run and hide.
"Why are you holding your belly like that, Honey-Bunny? Does it hurt?"
And she was still being kind.
There were people everywhere – only exacerbating Aubrey's panic. They would all see her if she threw up. She whimpered and shot Jillian a desperate look.
"Come here." Jillian stood up and placed her hands on Aubrey's shoulders, guiding her, not pushing her like her father would, back down the path. There was a bathroom with a line out the door. "Sick kid, cutting in front," she said, casually passing the entire line. No one argued, especially not as Aubrey clamped her hand over her mouth as she threw up in it.
Aubrey nearly bowled over someone leaving one of the stalls. She almost made it, instead throwing up all over the toilet seat and the floor next to it.
Jillian was immediately crouched down behind her, helping her correct her aim and rubbing her back.
No. No. No. No. No. Aubrey just kept repeating the word in her head as she heaved until she couldn't. She wanted to go home, only, no, she really didn't. She just…wanted to be invisible.
Rather than unrolling disgusting public restroom toilet paper, Jillian dug around until she found a tissue, and used that to wipe Aubrey's mouth. She folded it in half then held it against her nose. "Blow."
"I can blow my own nose," Aubrey rasped, out of breath.
"I'm sure you can. Blow."
Aubrey accidentally blew it as she burst into embarrassed tears. She pulled away after her nose was wiped and turned to face the stall wall – gasping. This had never happened before, this amount of not being able to breath. She began to panic she might be dying.
"Calm your body." Jillian threw the tissue in the toilet then unraveled a handful of toilet paper – placing one hand on Aubrey's back, then single-handedly mopping up as much of the vomit from the floor and toilet seat as she could. Aubrey's vomit.
Aubrey groaned. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Baby…"
Aubrey was not a baby.
"I have a son that enjoys shoving half his hand down his throat to make himself vomit when he doesn't get what he wants, no matter where we are," Jillian said, "You are a cakewalk." She finished cleaning up then got to her feet and flushed the toilet. "Come on." She led her out of the stall and over to the sink so she could wash her hands. She dried them off, then tried to guide Aubrey out of the bathroom – guide her to goodbye.
Aubrey stubbornly dug her heels into the ground.
"Move your feet, please," Jillian instructed.
Aubrey shook her head.
This woman wasn't taking her shit – only, it didn't feel anything like when her father told her he wasn't taking her shit. In one swift movement, she picked Aubrey up and hauled her out the door, unphased by Aubrey squirming to get down. She didn't put her down until they were around back of the building, away from the crowd. "What is this?" she asked, "What's going on in your head right now to make you throw a fit?"
Aubrey was not throwing a fit! Aubrey did not throw tantrums! She clenched her jaw and tried to calm her body so she could convince her she was fine, but only ended up taking gasping breaths through her nose, which made it start running.
Jillian pulled another tissue from her bag.
Aubrey ripped it from her hand and threw it on the ground. Snot ran down her face, and she flailed her hands in panic, having nothing to wipe it with.
Jillian simply picked the tissue back up and wiped her nose again, then put it in her back pocket like it wasn't absolutely disgusting. "Do you need help, Aubrey?" she asked, "Is that what you're trying to tell me right now?"
Aubrey shook her head.
"Really? Because you are a little kid, running around this big park alone."
Aubrey was not a little kid. She was perfectly grown up.
"Independent or not, I would be so scared to let my kids wander around here alone."
Aubrey kept shaking her head. She was right; she did hate her.
"I can try to help you," Jillian said. She pulled her sleeves down over her hands and wiped Aubrey's face, showing no response as Aubrey pushed her away. "That's what I do."
Help her with what? What did this lady know? What was she going to do? March into Aubrey's house and tell her family to give her a second to breathe? Aubrey didn't need help. She just…she didn't know what she needed, okay?! But it wasn't help. It wasn't. It wasn't. It wasn't. She could do everything in life herself – all of it. Whatever 'it' was. Aubrey could do it. She could do it. She could do it.
"What do you want?" Jillian asked a new question, "If you could have anything right now, what would you want?"
No one ever asked Aubrey what she wanted. Aubrey just looked at her.
"Anything," Jillian encouraged her, "A unicorn. A flying elephant. Aliens to crash land on Earth."
All these stupid things she was naming. Aubrey wanted to tell her how unrealistic she was being, but different words fell out of her mouth, even more unrealistic than flying alien unicorn elephants crashing into Earth. "I want to go with you."
"You're standing with me right now." Jillian tilted her head. "Where do you want to go?"
Anywhere. "Home." Aubrey looked away – looking anywhere but at her. Her entire face burned from the admission.
"Mm," Jillian just hummed, "I see. Aubrey, what are your parents' names?"
Aubrey suddenly felt like she was going to throw up again, and she took a step back. This woman was going to talk-
"I'm not going to talk to them," Jillian said, "I just want to know their names."
Aubrey shook her head.
"You have two choices," Jillian told her, "You can tell me their names, or I can go talk to them."
"James and Laura," Aubrey whispered.
Jillian nodded. "You know I can't take you home with me, right?"
Of course Aubrey knew that. It would be kidnapping. She nodded.
"And, I don't think you can go back crying, can you?"
Aubrey shook her head.
"I wish you didn't have to, but now is the time to fix yourself, okay? Take a breath."
Aubrey sucked in a deep breath, and then another as she lifted her hand and wiped her own tears from her face – just like she always did. It was fine. She had been fine before this day, and she would be fine tomorrow. "Thank you for taking me on the ride and teaching me A Capella," she said, her voice still cracking.
"Thank you for letting me." Jillian unhooked a small key necklace from her neck, and hooked it back on Aubrey's. "My mother always says, 'the key to life is to use your words well and be pushy as hell'. Do you think you can do that?"
Aubrey liked that. Use your words well and be pushy as hell. "Mhm."
"I'm going to follow you and make sure you get back okay, alright?"
Aubrey hugged her – so tight. She thought she was going to cry again – but she understood that she couldn't.
"Let's not say goodbye," Jillian said, and hugged her back, "Let's just say see you later."
Aubrey shook her head. They wouldn't see each other later. Aubrey lived all the way in Virginia.
Jillian pulled back. "We just listened to It's A Small World on a loop for fifteen minutes. I think we can believe it." She patted Aubrey's back then stood up. "You got this. I'll see you later, okay?"
Aubrey clutched the necklace and looked at her one last time. "See you later."