A/N: Sorry chapters are taking so long. I was fairly sick for nearly a month (not COVID). But I'm mostly fine now. I've also had to take some time to come to terms with the dwindling interest being shown in this story as well as my vision not quite matching what other people want the story to be, and I'm mostly fine regarding that now too. I got way too caught up in trying to write a story people thought was good to try to avoid all the negative feedback and so maybe the fandom would start to like me, but that's exhausting, and tbh, I'd rather just write a story I personally enjoy. I'd rather lack of interest and negative reviews for a mediocre story I have fun writing than praise for a story that feels like a chore to make perfect. And because I was enjoying this chapter, it ended up way longer than expected. Oops.
Dysrhythmia
Look, look and see,
Just look how bad these last few years were to me;
They brought me lower than you'd ever believe,
No light to look up to.
Oh, I know, yeah, you know;
You had it just as bad but never would show.
You barely made it out alive on your own;
Yeah, that's when I found you.
Life was fleeting, then I found you.
- Passion Pit, Galantis
People have to be staring at them. Aubrey's face has been blasted all over the news and there is a cop trailing behind them. He isn't in uniform, but he isn't exactly subtle about following them with a gun sticking out of a holster on his side. But when she looks up, no one is looking at them at all. Everyone has their own lives and they're going about them – oblivious, lucky, happy. They're thinking about picking pumpkins while she's thinking about how she really wishes that gun was in her possession.
"Everyone okay?" Julia asks.
"Mhm." Aubrey smiles.
"Peachy," Beca answers flatly.
"I'm surprised you and Chloe have never been here before, Aubrey," Julia says.
"That's the great thing about New York." Aubrey has to get her mind off that gun. "There's always something new to discover." Those are the exact same words Chloe used to use to attempt to drag her out of the house. Her sudden laugh draws Beca's attention. "I'm fine. I was just thinking." Thinking – something best done inside one's head. At least she isn't broadcasting everything currently running through her mind.
"Buy me a hat," Beca demands as they walk past a stand near the entrance selling hats, gloves, and scarves.
"Don't you have a bank account that you can request a replacement card for?" Aubrey asks.
"Aren't we both rich anyway?" Beca replies.
"I'll buy you a hat," Julia offers.
"And she's not technically even rich," Beca mouths over her shoulder as she follows Julia to the stand.
Aubrey chews on her lower lip where some of the skin is still peeling. Beca is too independent to just be content relying on them for money when she has her own – unless…she doesn't have any. Maybe Aubrey isn't the only one trying to hide things.
"How do I look?" Noah asks after pulling a beanie over his head.
It occurs to Aubrey a few seconds too late that he's asking her and she looks up with a peculiar expression, still thinking about Beca's financial predicament.
"That ugly?"
"No! No, it looks great…"
"Your face tells me a different story." Noah pulls the hat back off his head.
"I'm pretty sure that's just what her face looks like all the time." Beca smirks in Aubrey's direction.
Aubrey grabs the front of the hat she's trying on and pulls it down over her eyes. "This is what I wish yours looked like all the time. You look better like that."
"So do you," Beca remarks.
Julia holds up a finger to stop Aubrey from retaliating. "How about you find one too?"
"I vote matching hats for everyone." Conrad is already wearing a pink hat with a blue pompom and examining matching gloves. "The tag says these are made from alpaca. Do you think they dye the whole alpaca pink?"
"Yeah," Brian replies, "They hook it to a crane then dip it like an Easter egg."
Aubrey finds herself gravitating toward the more neutral colors – the ones least likely to stand out and attract attention. Brown with no pompom seems like a safe choice.
"Do people not make solid black anymore?" Beca asks.
Aubrey looks up and down the table at all the hats. Everything comes in the option of a solid color, except black – which she assumes sold out. If Beca wants black, her only options come with white snowflakes or the white silhouettes of reindeers leaping. "I vote reindeer."
"I vote you don't get an opinion." Beca picks up the snowflakes.
"You know, you could choose another color… What about the red one you were just wearing?"
The suggestion has Beca's eyebrows raising halfway up her forehead.
"I like the snowflakes." Noah grabs the hat from her hands and tugs it down over her head too far – triggering Julia to move in and fix it for her.
"You know what…" -Beca pulls the hat off and sidesteps away from them- "I think I actually like the red one."
Neither Julia nor Noah look particularly offended by her change of mind. They share a smile then resume browsing through the selections. "Oh, look, at least they have black gloves," Julia comments, "A scarf too."
"I only need a hat," Beca says.
"It's going to get cold soon. I'm sure you don't want to be out in the snow with no hat or gloves." Julia picks them up for her. "Call it being proactive."
"Can I call it being overbearing?" Beca asks.
The smile never leaves Julia's face as she answers with a very blunt "no", making it perfectly clear that there's no room for discussion. "Aubrey, do you need gloves and a scarf too?"
Aubrey shakes her head, smirking down at her chosen hat. She has plenty of those.
"Shut up, Aubrey," Beca remarks, "I can hear your thoughts."
"That sounds like a paranoid delusional problem to me." Aubrey purchases her own hat – and then on second thought, does buy some gloves and a scarf too so she'll have a matching set. She thanks the vendor with a fake smile then steps off to the side a few feet to wait for the rest of them.
The first thing Beca does after Julia buys her hat is put it on. It isn't particularly cold or windy, but she still makes an effort to tug it down all the way over her earlobes. Maybe it's all that time she spent in Los Angeles's warm weather. Or maybe Aubrey is just looking for mysteries to solve to make herself feel better about the one she can't.
"Look, Guys, they have a pumpkin valet," Conrad says, climbing into a wagon next to a large sign describing how the process of how holding their pumpkins until they're ready to go to their car works. "This means no one has the option to escape early."
"How thoughtful of them." Brian takes the handle to pull him along.
"Don't forget to get a cart for the pumpkins." Conrad settles into his.
"Anything in this cart gets valeted," Brian replies and continues pulling it, prompting Conrad to nearly fall out of it while making his escape.
"Have you ever been to a pumpkin patch?" Aubrey asks Beca.
"Everyone has been to a pumpkin patch – unless you tell me you haven't."
"No, I have. Before Alice was in charge, all the acapella groups on campus would have a pumpkin carving contest."
"I kinda wish I had been there to give her a hard time," Beca says.
"Beca, I had more patience with you than she was capable of in general. She would have eaten you alive."
"I guess it's a good thing I taste terrible then. You don't think the two of us together could have taken her down?"
"I doubt it." At the time, Aubrey had been so desperate to please her that there wasn't a strong likelihood she would go down that route. It's a fun idea to toy with, however. Had Beca been a freshman at the same time as her and just happened to catch her on one of those rare moments she was completely ready to lay into Alice, they probably could have taken over The Bellas together. And Chloe would have been right beside them, admonishing them for their behavior while doing absolutely nothing to stop them. Even Chloe had to admit Alice was a bitch. "Do you think we would have been friends?"
"I think you would have spent the first few months rolling your eyes at my suggestions for the group until Alice pissed us both off and we decided to overlook our differences to hate her together – and then we would have been friends until we had an inevitable fallout over Chloe."
That sounds about right.
"Aubrey," Noah calls to her, "Come race some ducks!"
Aubrey looks up, a little relieved to see the ducks he's talking about are rubber. That puts the odds of winning whatever game he wants her to play more in her favor. She walks over to several PVC pipes with water pumps at the top and watches a few kids send their ducks down the pipes waterslide style. It looks easy enough to do with only one hand. "You're going down," she accepts his offer.
"My ducks is going down," Noah replies, "Faster than yours. Anyone else want in?"
Suddenly they're all grabbing rubber ducks to situate at the top of pipes. Aubrey positions hers between Beca's and Brian's, a little less concerned about the others' duck racing abilities. If she can beat them, chances are she's probably going to be crowned the winner.
"One," Noah counts, "Two."
"Is it on three or after three?" Beca tries to distract her.
"Three."
Operating the pump with only one hand is a little more difficult than Aubrey anticipated, but the others play fair and use one hand as well. Her duck sails past the ones on either side of it, and she steps back with a smug grin.
"I win!" Conrad announces.
"Two out three," Brian suggests.
He wishes. "No way."
"Did you not see that I won?" Conrad asks.
"Afraid you'll lose?" Brian asks.
"Afraid we'll end up playing this game all day with you desperate to win even just one time." Also, Aubrey is fairly certain her win was about 75% luck.
"Hello!" Conrad shouts.
"I'm going to pick a pumpkin," Aubrey says, "Feel free to conquer Beca instead."
"Nope." Beca steps back from the pumpkin. "I'll keep my second place title."
"Third place," Conrad insists.
"You did a great job." Julia wraps her arm around his shoulders. "You're just playing people who can't accept losing."
The three of them frown a little in her direction, then Aubrey turns toward the rows of pumpkins with Beca close behind her. "Maybe, we should have a pumpkin carving contest. Winner gets unlimited access to the bathroom."
Brian walks up beside her and looks from her cast to her face. "You're on."
"What does runner up get?" Beca asks.
"Bold of you to assume you'll be runner up," Brian comments, earning himself a look that has mostly been reserved for Aubrey in the past.
"The knowledge you're not a complete loser," Aubrey decides on a prize. She pauses in front of a row of pumpkins and looks around. The first step to winning a pumpkin carving contest is finding the perfect pumpkin.
"How do you guys plan on judging this contest?" Julia asks.
…Aubrey hadn't really thought of that.
"We'll post pictures on the café Facebook page," Conrad says, "The people can decide."
"Good. It lacks bias." Brian smiles in their direction. "May the most talented person win."
xxxxx
Perfectionism is both a gift and a curse – even Aubrey knows that. What she doesn't know is why people don't strive for it anyway. They pick their pumpkins, able to overlook the stuck on dirt and a few dents. She tries to turn a blind eye to a wonky looking stem on an otherwise decent looking pumpkin, but it attracts too much attention.
"What about this one?" Beca asks.
Aubrey's face says it all.
"Okaaaaay. Maybe you should just get one of those carvable foam pumpkins from the craft store."
Then she's sure to lose. Not only because people will realize it's fake, but, "Do you know how long it takes foamed polystyrene to decompose?" Anyone with basic knowledge knows those pumpkins are helping kill the planet.
"I'm going to assume longer than a real pumpkin," Beca answers, "Just pick one. It's Halloween, so, honestly, the more fucked up pumpkin you pick, the better. Did you see Conrad's? It's two pumpkins fused together. It looks like a butt."
"I'm going to carve a thong on it and tape on a dollar," Conrad says, completely unabashed, "I'm know my audience."
This is exhausting. It shouldn't be, but it is. She wishes Chloe was around. It would be more fun that way. There is such a lack of energy without her presence. She feels like a flashlight with a dying battery. Every so often, she has to mentally smack herself to turn back on. Which one would Chloe pick? Probably the one with the weird looking stem so it would feel 'wanted' or something. "That one," she says and lets someone with two hands go through the hassle of lifting it into the wagon.
"Finally," Beca comments and follows the rest of them toward the pumpkin valet.
"You'll be envying my meticulousness when you lose," Aubrey replies.
Beca just glances over her shoulder and rolls her eyes.
"Not much to envy about second place," Brian chimes in, "It's still losing."
It's Aubrey's turn to roll her eyes. "What do you have the creativity to carve?"
"Maybe I won't carve anything," Brian says, "Maybe I'll attach a stick to it and use it as a gavel. I think you should carve the podium."
"No smashing pumpkins allowed!" Conrad cries.
Beca holds up a finger. "Unless it's the band."
"Oh, yeah," Noah agrees with an added fist bump.
Aubrey chews on her lower lip as she tries to decide what she is going to carve. That is until the taste of blood from the already chewed raw skin reaches her taste buds. She turns away and tries to press her hand to her mouth subtly then wipe it on the inside of her shirt to clean up later. The only person who notices her wiping blood on herself is a man several feet away who turns to his wife and whispers 'I think those are the people from the news' when Aubrey looks at him. She angles herself toward Beca, not quite letting them out of her sight until they walk the other way.
"What do you guys want to do?" Julia asks the whole group, "It looks like there's a lot here. Mazes, apple cannons, petting zoo, the whole shebang."
"Hey, Beca, wanna make a bet?" Aubrey asks.
"With you? No."
Aubrey walks around her and whispers her thoughts into Brian's ear.
"I bet you're still short enough to ride the ponies," Brian says.
"That's actually something I am too tall for," Beca responds, "Nice try though."
Brian reaches out his hand to shake on it.
Beca seems to momentarily rethink her statement then relaxes with a laugh. "If I'm too tall for the ponies, Aubrey has to pet a goat."
"Deal," Brian says before Aubrey has a chance to recant her bet.
"Deal," Beca agrees.
"Mm mm," Aubrey still tries to backtrack, "No deal. This is a bet between the two of you now."
"Mrs. B, do you think Aubrey should hold up her end of the bet?" Beca asks.
Julia holds up both hands in the air without so much as even looking at either of them.
"Bet you're scared of fuzzy animals," Beca says, "Which I still don't understand. Normal people are scared of things with scales…"
"Fine," Aubrey concedes, "If you're too tall for the ponies, I'll pet a goat."
"Fine."
"Fine."
"Okay." Beca gives her one last look before walking toward a small fenced off area near one side of the petting zoo. "Yeah, hey," she calls to one of the attendants, "What's the height requirement on this thing?"
A stout man only a few inches taller than Beca quirks a brow in amusement. "No requirement," he speaks while chewing on a wheat stem.
Beca's face falls. "I know that's impossible, because you wouldn't just put a two hundred pound man on a pony."
"That guy could hold a two hundred pound man." He nods toward a full grown horse eating out of a hay bucket. "He could carry you too, if you want."
"That's not a pony," Beca points out.
"If it's part of the pony ride, it must be a pony," the guy replies, "You riding or not? Your friends look pretty eager."
"Yeehaw, Beca," Aubrey says, standing front of the group.
"What's the dictionary definition of 'pony', Aubrey?" Beca asks, "Or don't you know?"
A small horse, usually no higher than 58 inches. Aubrey chews on the less bitten up side of her lip and looks off to the side, weighing being seen as ignorant against the sight of Beca riding a horse around the pony ring.
"You know, I'm surprised," Beca says, letting herself in through the gate, "I would have thought you were one of those elementary school horse girls."
Wait. Was she actually going to ride it?
"I can't wait to see you pet a goat."
"That wasn't the deal!" Aubrey calls after her.
"This isn't a pony," Beca says over her shoulder as she follows the man toward the horse. She picks up a handful of hay and offers it up to be eaten, resting her free hand against the side of the horse's face. It looks like they both still have a lot of surprises about them when Beca turns down the attendant's offer for help and pulls herself up into the saddle with ease.
"I think she's ridden a horse before," Brian, Mr. Obvious, points out.
Whatever. This is still one for the books. Aubrey turns in a circle until she's facing Noah. "Do you have your camera?"
"Do I have my camera?" Noah guffaws. "Is my name not Noah Angel Beale?"
"Your middle name is Angel?" Aubrey blurts out in what may not be the most sensitive tone.
"Knowing his mother, I'm surprised it's not S'ark," Julia comments, leaning against one of the fence rails.
"That's a good one." Noah wags a finger in her direction. "My name backfired on my mother, I'll have you know, because it's very hard to yell Noah Angel at your kid and actually sound angry."
"Oh, please, as if that woman ever scolded you for anything. You could rob a bank and she'd suggest pressing charges against the teller instead for handing over the money."
"Because I am an angel."
"So is Satan."
"Dad, camera," Aubrey reminds him.
Noah pulls a disposable camera from the pocket of his jacket. "Now it takes a professional to operate one of these."
"Is professional code for elderly?" Conrad whispers, "That thing is practically vintage. You have to spin a gear to be able to take more than one picture. There isn't even a filter option to make your ugly friends look bearable."
Beca arches a brow.
"I wasn't talking about you. My friend Nick has two left eyes."
"You mean like a lazy eye?" Aubrey asks.
Conrad shakes his head. "No."
"Alright, Guys, smile for the album!" Noah hollers.
The attendant stops the horse and turns to face the camera, one hand on the rope and the other hand holding one his overall straps.
Beca looks the other way and raises up her middle finger. "You sure you want this in your album?"
"Yep." The camera clicks with a flash of light.
"That would not be the worst thing we have in there by far," Julia adds.
"Alright, let me off of this thing." Beca gets herself down before they can start on another lap. "I'm ready to see Aubrey pet a goat. And we are getting a picture of it."
It's one goat. One tiny pat on the back. It's a get in, get out situation. How hard can it be? It sure does feel a whole lot like reliving her peers mocking her while a stupid elementary school guidance counselor forces her to read a book to barn animals all over again though. It's different now, she tells herself. She's grown into her features. No one can insinuate she looks like the animals anymore. Still, she finds herself drawing her upper lip down over her front teeth as the name 'horse mouth' floods her thoughts.
"I'll be nice and let you pick the goat," Beca says as she pushes the petting zoo gate open.
Aubrey can think of better ways to be nice. She takes a step inside, avoiding several piles of animal droppings scattered throughout the dirt. "I'm not staying in here. I'm petting a goat and then we're going to do something else."
"Okay." Beca shrugs her off.
The goat nearest to them has a vibe that Aubrey doesn't like, so she scans the area for a different one. There's at least twenty of them and all of them have creepy eyes. "I think these ones are all possessed."
"I think you're scared of fuzzy animals," Beca retorts.
"I'm not scared. Who says they even want us to pet them?" Aubrey makes a vague hand gesture toward a group of them.
"That one seems interested," Beca comments on one that ventures away from the rest toward Aubrey's outstretched arm.
Why couldn't she have broken both of her arms?
"Aubrey," Beca bleats, kneeling down beside it, "Pet me, Aubrey." She nearly topples over as the goat presses its stubby little horns against her side and tries to chew on her shirt. "Look, it's distracted."
"I kind of want to watch it eat you," Aubrey decides.
"You're not helping your case here."
Just pet it and get out, Aubrey. She reaches down and places her hand on its bony back. "This isn't even fuzzy." Its hair is course and uncomfortable to try to run her fingers through. From a purely tactile, non-mentality standpoint, petting a goat is awful. She withdraws her hand. "See? Not afraid." Just as long as it keeps its teeth focused on Beca and doesn't shit where she's going to step in it. She stuffs her hand inside her jacket pocket and takes the scenic route to the exit gate, purposefully avoiding Conrad and the peacock he seems to be having a conversation with.
"Maybe we should build a farm," Beca suggests from right behind her.
Aubrey lets the gate slam on her. "You don't even want to help me with the animal we do have."
"Since when am I a co-owner of this cat?" Beca hits her in the butt with the gate, forcing her to move forward and let her out. "I wholeheartedly believe that you should be the soul owner of Chloe's pussy. Dude, ow!"
Aubrey withdraws her foot after Beca stumbles over it. It's a pity that a tree in front of her keeps her from hitting the ground – even if Aubrey did plan it that way to avoid injuring her or, worse, getting a lecture about it. "You should watch where you're walking."
Beca looks back at her with a smirk.
Why isn't she getting a lecture? "Where did my mom and dad go?" Their sudden disappearance has Aubrey turning in a full circle looking for them.
"I think they're over there," Beca answers, jamming her thumb in the direction of a few food trucks, "I saw them walk that way after taking your goat picture for the album."
It can't be any worse than Beca's horse picture - especially since all they could get of Aubrey was her back. Her lungs reopen at the sight of the hideous striped sweater that she can recognize from the back as belonging to Noah. Less than twenty feet away, barely out of sight, and her heart is still thudding away in her chest so loudly it could be mistaken as the drums from Jumanji. She smiles in embarrassment at the ground as Beca stares at her, looking at a loss.
"You know if we got a goat, we'd never have to mow the lawn?" Beca tentatively changes the subject. "I bet together we could steal one."
Aubrey rolls her eyes and walks away.
It's one thing to lose sight of Julia and Noah, but it's also a mistake to approach them. Because as soon as she does, she's bombarded with questions about what she wants to eat. 'Nothing' probably isn't an acceptable answer so she scans the menu in the side of the truck, pretending an interest in the options is why she has a difficult time choosing.
"Is everything here made of apples?" Beca asks.
"It's called Apple Attic," Aubrey points out.
"Your head is in the way of the sign," Beca replies then mumbles under her breath when Aubrey steps out of the way, "It's called Apple Attic." She has a much easier time coming to a decision once Aubrey is out of the way of the sign. "Split an apple dumpling?"
That doesn't sound so bad. "Okay."
"How about you girls go find a picnic table?" Julia suggests.
It takes looking to see if there are any in close proximity for Aubrey to agree to that. There are a few with a clear view of the food truck and she heads straight toward the closest one before anyone else can snag it.
Beca sits on a bench with her back against the table, legs stretched out in front of her, as Aubrey stands and keeps an eye on the rest of the group. "Being here feels weird; I feel like we should just be sitting inside, staring at a wall or something."
"I feel like we should be with Chloe." It will never feel right to leave her in that hospital room alone. Chloe hates being alone. They all know that, and yet here they all are.
"I doubt Chloe would want us to spend every second of our time in that room."
That's true as well – but it doesn't make Aubrey feel any better about not being there with her.
"Hey, imagine when she wakes up and finds out we're all about to live together in some mansion. We're about to build her dream life and surround her with you, me, her parents, and some random strangers she's never met before but will definitely talk to. And we have a cat and a dog. I think that makes up for some time spent apart. She's going to wake up from the worst experience to the best life she can imagine. We've even started getting along with each other…"
"Is having everything we ever wanted worth how we got it?" Aubrey asks. It feels more like the world was so unprepared for the magnitude of what happened that now it's just doing whatever it can to try to even out their lives and find some sort of equilibrium.
"No. But I'll take whatever compensation I can get. We're so entitled to compensation right now, we put people with Mesothelioma to shame."
"Yeah, I bet they're rolling in asbestos to earn back their title," Aubrey mutters.
Beca elbows her in the side. "One day, we're going to get along so well, you're going to laugh at my jokes."
"You're pushing it now."
"Bestie."
Aubrey shoves her away when she goes to nudge her again. "Why do you try so hard to be the most annoying person I've ever met? Do you get something out of it?"
"What would you do if I said sexual gratification every time you insult me?"
Aubrey gives her a side glance and holds her tongue. When she looks back toward the food truck, her view of Julia and Noah is cut off by a woman standing behind them. There is nothing remarkable about the back of her head, but staring at her gives Aubrey the strangest sense of something very akin to de ja vu.
"Don't stop now," Beca says, "I was just starting to feel warm and tingly inside. Hey. Earth to Aubrey Posen."
"Do you ever feel like you're reliving something?" Aubrey asks.
"Yeah; every time you ignore me."
"When do I ignore you?" If anything, Aubrey does the exact opposite of ignore her and actively tries to aggress her.
"Literally all the time!"
"When? Name one time."
"All the time!"
"Give me an example."
Beca turns her palms face up and raises her arms to the side. "All the time. Just now."
"Are you two still fighting over something?" Julia asks and places their food on the table.
"Yes," Beca answers at the same time Aubrey says, "No." They exchange a look before Aubrey sits down.
"Thanks," Aubrey says when Noah places two cups of apple cider next to their food. This is probably the wrong time to ask Beca if she also keeps having thoughts of someone storming the place with a gun – of everyone around them screaming and running for their lives. There's no point in planting a thought in her head that might not be there already.
"Well?" Beca asks.
Aubrey looks up. "What?"
"See! You're ignoring me!"
"I'm sorry," Aubrey tries to both play it off and get to her at the same time, "Did you say something? I wasn't listening." She picks up her cup and takes an overly-casual drink.
"I said-"
The woman who had been standing behind Julia in line turns around to walk by them in the opposite direction – and even if Aubrey didn't know who she was from the back of her head, she would recognize those boobs anywhere. Before Beca can even finish her sentence, she chokes and spins around to avoid spraying Beca with the remaining cider in her mouth.
"Aubrey." Julia stands up from just sitting down to come to her aid, but Aubrey holds a hand up to stop her, still coughing.
Is apple cider supposed to burn the inside of a person's nostrils this way?
"Are you okay?" Beca asks with genuine concern. She slides down onto the bench next to her and tries to pass her a crumpled up handful of napkins.
It takes a few moments of gasping before Aubrey manages to sputter out, "I saw Bologna Barb." She snatches the napkins from her and quickly wipes her face.
"You saw Bologna Barb?"
Julia falls back down onto her seat. "You and Chloe both needs to stop calling her that name. And are you sure you saw her? We're in a massive city."
"Nobody else has areolas the size of saucers," Aubrey states in distress, and it's Beca's turn to choke.
"Do you want people to make fun of you for things you can't control?" Julia inquires.
"You do realize you're talking to Aubrey, right?" Beca cuts in.
"See?" Julia makes her point when Aubrey raises herself to full height and slowly turns to give Beca the most threatening look she can muster up in the moment.
"We have to leave," Aubrey decides.
Julia reaches across the table to grab her hand and prevent her from standing up. "Even if it was Barb, she walked away. She doesn't seem to like you that much either, so I think you're safe to stay and eat."
"That was vaguely insulting." Aubrey pulls her hand back.
"You and Chloe call her Bologna Barb. You don't deserve to be liked that much by her."
"It was the whole campus that called her that…" Aubrey stabs a fork into the apple dumpling.
"And who started calling her that to begin with?"
Aubrey wiggles the fork back and forth, refusing to give that question an answer.
"You?" Beca asks, then follows up by talking to herself, "I'm actually honestly not surprised by that."
"Like you never called Kimmy Jin any names…"
"Not ones that spread across the whole campus," Beca answers, "Besides, Kimmy Jin was terrifying. Bolo-I mean, Barb, was just obnoxious."
Aubrey looks at her. "Kind of like someone else I know and am also now forced to share a room with."
"I agree, your dumbass alligator is extremely annoying. Good thing it was eaten by a dinosaur." Beca stuffs a forkful of apple dumpling into her mouth, then covers her mouth and mumbles through her food, "Dude, what god did you piss off this morning?"
There's no need to ask what she means because right after she says it, a voice even more familiar than Bologna Bob's boobs speaks up from somewhere behind her.
"Aubrey?"
No. Aubrey slowly lays her fork flat down on a napkin then turns around on the bench to confirm that she's being punished by some higher power. "Howard," she greets him through clenched teeth, "What are you doing here?"
"I was just in the area, and you said you were going to be here, so-"
"You've been messaging Howie?" Beca finally swallows her food. "Since when?"
"Who are you?" Howie asks.
"Sorry. I'm Beca. We met at The Fall Mixer – briefly."
"Right." Howie points at her. "Yeah, you were the one who looked like she wanted to run off the stage."
"That's me. Can I ask you something about that day that I've always wondered about?"
Aubrey clenches her jaw off to the side.
"Shoot," Howie says, taking them both off guard.
"Um," Beca fumbles for a second before getting herself together, "You could have drank enough alcohol at that party to completely wipe your mind of seeing us perform. Why didn't you?"
"You know what, this has been a great reunion." Aubrey stands up. "But we were actually just about to leave. We should do this again sometime. Let's catch up in a few more years, okay?"
"I actually think this is a great time to catch up." Beca says.
"You know what?" A light bulb goes off in Aubrey's brain. "You and Howie should catch up just the two of you."
"As much as I would love to hear all of Howie's stories about you, and, really, I would, I see what you're doing and no."
"You guys have so much in common. Look Howie is wearing a shirt with some talentless band on it and you both really love…cups."
"Like the jock kind?" Beca asks, then clarifies, "Not that I love those; it's just the only thing that came to mind."
"No, Beca, like the plastic kind meant for drinking that you both choose to waste. You could sing while Howie stacks."
"As much as that sounds like a super great time, this is way better." Beca waves in the direction of somewhere behind Howie, "Barb, long time no see, what's up?"
"This is why you wanted to come to the pumpkin patch?" Bologna Barb doesn't even look at them. She stops beside Howie, arms folded, and taps her foot.
"No, you were right, this looks like an excellent time for kettle corn." Brian drops down on the bench at the most inopportune moment with Conrad in tow.
"Oh my god." Conrad stuffs a handful of kettle corn into his mouth. "This looks interesting. What's happening right now? Love triangle? Square? …wait." He counts on his fingers. "Aubrey, Beca, Chloe, these new people - what shape has five sides?"
"Pentagon," Brian answers.
What's happening is everyone needs a lesson in not speaking with their mouth full.
"This is just Howie and Bologna Barb. Just wait until you guys hear about the orgy," Beca says.
"Orgy?" they respond in unison.
Beca steals a handful of kettle corn then drops half of it when Aubrey stomps on her toes, prompting her to sit on the table.
"Wait, why Bologna Barb?" Conrad directs his question at Barb herself.
"It's nothing a gay man wants to see," Beca answers.
"It's nothing anybody wants to see," Aubrey blurts out.
Barb turns to face her. "I saw the news. How long did you wait after Chloe died to text Howie? A whole hour?" Her words have everyone at the table standing up.
"Hey," Julia barks, and Barb blanches, "Remember me?"
"Chloe's not dead," Beca adds.
Howie rubs the back of his neck.
Barb seems to know she went too far, but rather than apologizing, she turns her attention back to Howie with a mocking, "I love you, Aubrey. Love me back, Aubrey." while taking several steps backward, "I'll be in the car."
"Maybe we can talk later tonight?" Howie suggests.
"You wanna see how good I am with a bat, Boy?" Noah responds.
"I actually really suck at baseball," Howie answers, "Do you play Diablo?"
Noah turns to Julia. "I don't have a response prepared for someone that stupid."
"I think it's best to move on, Howie," Julia says, "Before you cross the line into stalking too far."
Howie looks at Aubrey.
"Get lost, Man," Beca says when Aubrey doesn't say anything.
"Later," Howie assures Aubrey before walking off after Bologna Barb.
Aubrey doesn't even realize Julia is moving until she's wrapping her arms around Aubrey from behind.
"That, my love, is the living definition of a bad idea," she says close to Aubrey's ear then squeezes her good arm, "You're right about one thing though. Bologna Barb can get fucked."
Aubrey looks back at her.
"Hey!" Julia steps away from Aubrey to call after Beca. "Where are you going?"
Beca stops and turns to face her. "I'm going to key their car."
"You don't have any keys," Aubrey reminds her.
"I will after I beat the shit out of them and take one of theirs."
"Do you want to go to jail?" Julia asks.
"Also, that's assault," Aubrey backs her up to get her to stop giving the 'mom look'.
"I heard the third time is the most fun," Beca says, "Also, I have two friends who are lawyers."
"I told you, I'm quitting," Aubrey says.
"I'll believe that when I see it," Beca replies.
"I got your back," Brian assures her with another mouthful of kettle corn, "Take a video."
"That sounds like evidence against me. What kind of lawyer are you?"
"Corporate – or I will be, eventually. But, hey, this criminal investigative stuff may change my mind. I'm considering life as a PI."
"Come on." One hand still on Aubrey's arm, Julia leans over and grabs Beca by hers as well, "Everyone, come sit back down."
Beca shrugs her hand away but otherwise takes a seat.
"Okay." Julia takes a deep breath once everyone is sitting back down and takes her place next to Noah. "Interesting morning events are over. Are you guys okay?"
"I'm fine," Beca answers.
Aubrey wraps her hand around her now lukewarm drink and nods. "I am quitting," she tells Beca once everyone has calmed down.
"Like you're done having sex with Howie?" Okay, Beca is pissed at her. Like actually pissed at her.
"He messaged me."
"And obviously you replied." Beca turns to Julia. "Aubrey has a secret phone."
"Why are you so mad? You just thought it was funny ten seconds ago," Aubrey reminds her.
Julia lifts her shoulders in an extended shrug, slowly chewing on her food. "I can't do anything about Aubrey having a phone," she says after she swallows, "I don't want to do anything about Aubrey having a phone. That's a basic adult right. We should actually work on getting you one as well."
Beca rubs her eyes and stands back up.
"Why don't you take a walk with somebody, Beca?" Julia suggests, "Get some space."
"I'll go," Noah offers.
"How is it space if I'm not alone?" Beca mutters to him as they walk away side by side.
"Speaking of phones…" Brian pulls out his to shove in Aubrey's face. "Look at this."
"What am I looking at right now?" Aubrey takes the phone out of his hand.
"That is a personal pie maker. For the new house."
"What?!" Conrad screeches and rips the phone out of her hand, "You already have a personal pie maker!" His expression turns neutral after looking at the screen and he drops the phone haphazardly onto the table. "That's a home security system," he deadpans, and Brian bursts out laughing.
Aubrey picks it back up and scrolls back up to the top of the page. It appears top of the line, and for the listed price, it had better be.
"I've been browsing around for things we'll need," Brian says and takes the phone back, "I even watched a tutorial on laying foundation. It looks terrible and you can do it without me."
"Are you feeling anything about all this money you're about to get yet?" Julia asks, "Nervous? Excited?"
Guilty. Aubrey shakes her head. "I imagine it won't feel real until we get it, you know?"
"Makes sense. Eat some food."
Aubrey lifts the fork and pokes at some of the melted ice cream surrounding the apple dumpling. They should get Beca a new one before they leave. "Can you text Dad and have him force a fresh one of these on Beca?"
Julia nods and takes out her phone. "Do you wanna eat that one or do you wanna walk around and look for something else?"
There's no point in wasting it. "This is fine."
Julia glances up at her without saying anything then looks back down at her phone. "How is your stomach?" she asks after finishing the text, "Has it been hurting at all?"
Aubrey shakes her head.
"Is food just different now?"
"I'm sure it'll feel normal soon." She stops playing with her food and takes an actual bite of it. At one point, it would have tasted amazing. She wishes Chloe could taste it. It never occurred to her that with all the time the two of them spent together, she never had to experience missing her – not really anyway. There were times they spent apart where she wished they were together, but Chloe was always still there.
"I bet they're going to take the cast off soon. You have be more than ready to be able to use both arms again – although I don't think you fully took advantage of making other people do your bidding. You still have time though."
In no world will Aubrey ever miss only be able to use one arm, but, she might kind of miss the cast itself. Mostly just looking at the signatures on it. "I still can't feel it."
"I'm sure when the cast comes off, they'll look for nerve damage. It's possible they can fix it with surgery. It might even just heal itself over time. All the bruises are pretty much gone. Does anything still hurt?"
That all just depends on her definition of 'hurt'. It all just sort of feels sore – like something between a bad workout and body aches from the flu. She shakes her head. "No."
Julia reaches across the table for the extra fork and cuts off a piece of the apple dumpling for herself. "This will forever be the only tolerable part of cold months in New York. After this, I'm not leaving the indoors until Spring."
"Not even to see snow?" Conrad asks.
"I'll look from the window. What about you, Conrad, do you like the cold weather?"
"Oh, there's always so much alcohol running through my veins, I never feel it," Conrad answers.
Aubrey tunes them out, looking around for Beca and Noah, wondering how opposed they'd all be to tracking devices on their phones – once Beca got a phone that is. She can't decide if it's a logical precaution or over the top paranoia to even think such a thing. It's not like she needs to know where everyone is; she just needs to know it's somewhere safe. She spots them reproaching the apple stand and it gives her an opportunity to look back down at her own food long enough to cut a piece off and get it to her mouth without dripping melted ice cream on the table.
"I would like to go back to that Christmas Village though," Julia muses, "That would be nice."
"Oh, I can't wait to go ice skating," Conrad adds.
"I want to go to Macy's," Aubrey tries to throw herself back into the conversation just to appear like a normal person at the table. There are at least a few things in life that seem to remain untainted – like Macy's window displays and the light show and the old wooden escalators.
"Trivia question." Brian faces her. "Who made the escalators at Macy's?"
"The Otis Elevator Company between 1920 and 1930," Aubrey answers, "The company itself was founded in 1853 by Elisha Otis. Anything else you want to know?"
Brian grunts in disappointment.
"I have something I want to know," Julia days, "How did he establish credibility?"
"He demonstrated an elevator safety break." Aubrey smiles down at the table. "At the 1853 World's Fair in Bryant Park." Something feels familiar again, not quite in the same way as seeing the back of Bologna Barb's head, but in a way that still feels off. She wishes she never tried to figure it out when memories of that stupid It's A Small World ride and all her knowledge of the 1964-65 World's Fair coming flooding back – everything from riding it with a stranger she begged to go home with to her class going from bored yawns during her presentation to singing the song at random to annoy each other for the rest of the day. She places her fork down and tucks her necklace underneath her shirt like hiding any visible reminders can block out the experience in its entirety.
"Do you every think about the similarities between The Perisphere at the New York's 1939 World's Fair and Spaceship Earth?" Brian asks.
"How do you ask questions that sound so weird so casually?" Conrad replies.
"The what?" Aubrey asks.
"The Perisphere," Brian repeats.
"I know what The Perisphere is. The Trylon too."
"Spaceship Earth," Brian reiterates the second part, "The giant golf ball ride in Epcot. Let me guess – you've never been to Disney World."
"I've been to Disney World." Maybe she should have gone to Epcot instead – whatever that is. "You know what? I don't care about The Perisphere. Because you know what's there now? The Unisphere, and that's better."
"You like The Unisphere better than The Perisphere and Trylon?"
No. But Chloe does. "I do." She's taken aback when Beca sits back down beside her. It probably isn't the time to mention that Howie only knew where she was so because she had used it as an excuse to turn him down. "What's your favorite World's Fair?" she tries to barrel around any awkwardness between them.
"Tell me someone else at this table has no idea what she's talking about," Beca says, refusing to look up from her food.
The rest of them exchange looks with each other.
"What year were you born?" Brian asks.
"Uh, 1992."
Aubrey does her best not to burst out laughing. "That one was cancelled in the US and had to be held only in Spain. Chicago called it misguided, risky, and flawed."
"Those adjectives sound familiar," Beca says.
Okay, so maybe Aubrey had used those exact words to describe Beca on a few occasions but – "Your birth year is a bad omen."
"So, you don't believe in horoscopes, but you'll determine my worth using a carnival?"
"This is no carnival," Brian says.
"This is a serious fair," Aubrey adds. …and maybe horoscopes are a guilty pleasure that not even Chloe needs to know about.
"So no clowning around?"
"Whatever." Aubrey turns back to the rest of the group. "Anyway. I think Macy's usually opens Santaland around Thanksgiving."
Beca holds up two fingers then slides them past each other like two points completely missing.
"I can't wait for Dicken's Village. And to get my yearly picture on Santa's Bridge of Homosexuality," Conrad says.
Beca blinks. "Is that a euphemism about sitting on his lap or…?"
"There's a rainbow bridge," Aubrey fills her in.
"That's brilliant," Conrad whispers.
Brian stares across the table at Beca. "I do believe you just named Santa's dick."
"Happy to be of service." Beca salutes.
"Maybe we could try the Macy's Day Parade," Julia suggests, "I'm sure we could buy tickets for one of those private roped off areas if the crowd is too much."
Maybe. Aubrey is more worried about yet one more reason to see her face on the news than she is about standing in the crowd.
"We'll think about it after Halloween. If anything, I think Dad and I will go. It's a tradition to watch it on television every year. It might be fun to see it in person."
If anything, Aubrey's goal is just to get through the holidays this year. It's impossible to think of doing any holiday traditions without Chloe. It doesn't feel right when Chloe's presence is the biggest piece of almost every tradition she has. Without her, it all just seems empty. "It sounds great."
"Speaking of The Macy's Day Parade and tradition I can't wait to make my Thanksgiving Turfucken," Conrad muses.
"Please tell me you mean turducken?" Aubrey whispers.
Conrad smiles and shakes his head. "No."
"Turfucken's not bad," Brian says, "It's the Turdicken you have to worry about."
"I still can't believe these are your friends," Beca mumbles with her fork in her mouth.
Aubrey licks the remaining taste of apple and ice cream from her lips as she drops her fork into the empty container. "I'm taking this to the trash."
"Love you too!" Brian calls after her.
Beca swallows her food so her words come out clearer than half of what she's said all morning. "Not as much as Howie." She stands up with the remainder of her food and joins Aubrey on her trek of roughly ten feet from the bench to the trash.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were jealous," Aubrey remarks and turns around next to the trashcan to face her.
"It's a good thing you know better then, because I'm not. Still doesn't mean I won't key his car if he tries to take advantage of you again."
"He's not taking advantage of me."
"Just because it's mutual doesn't mean he isn't doing it – and if I see him again, he's going to wish the cups he was interested in were the jock kind. I don't care who you hook up with, but if you want it to be a dude that badly, I'd buy a strap before I let it be him. And that sounds weird now that I've said it. But I'm serious, he's not sex – he's self-destruction. He's not going to make you feel better, and I'm not going to let him make you feel worse. So – get the idea out of your head and go back to your nerd conversation about Earth Fairs."
"World's Fairs."
"The only thing you have going for you right now is that you're hot." Beca nudges her back toward the table.
Aubrey cranes her neck to frown at her. "You know, some people find intelligence attractive, you asshole."
"And it's probably a good thing you're also about to be really, really rich."
"It's still double what you have," Aubrey remarks and sits down.
"And if you're really desperate, there are two eligible penises right here at this table – and they're gay, so you'll know they're not getting anything out of it."
"Beca!" Aubrey thrusts her arm in the direction of Julia and Noah.
"I'll try anyone once," Conrad says.
Brian nods. "You had me sold at really, really rich. No one in their right mind would turn down a Daddy."
The temptation to rest her forehead on the table and spends a few seconds pretending she's alone and none of them have ever existed is outweighed by exhaustion telling her she'd never be able to get back up – and the few things she can think of to say aren't appropriate around Chloe's parents. "I'm taking the high road on this one and I'm going to go enjoy the rest of the pumpkin patch if we're all ready to start walking again."
"She really wants to get back to talking about Earth Day," Beca says.
Aubrey leans over to whisper in her ear. "You're going to have to work hard if you want to sell yourself over Howie. So far, not so good." She leans backs and gives her a sympathetic smile and a shoulder squeeze before standing up.
"Sorry," Beca apologizes to everyone, leaning over the table as she stands, "I mean World's Fairs." She stands up straight, clears her throat, puts on a serious face, and makes eye contact with Aubrey. "Love those things."
"Good. Because I'm about to spend the rest of our lives telling you all about them."
"I'm so excited."
"All 513 of them and counting."
The corner of Beca's eye twitches and her lips pull taught. "And I can't wait. If you start now and do one a day, in less than two years I can finally be at peace…knowing that I know about all of them."
"Oh no." If Beca wants to spend their years living together getting under Aubrey's skin, that's fine. Aubrey can hit back. "I know all about these things. By the time we're done, you'll be at least 80. But don't worry, I'll make sure to schedule in lunch and restrooms breaks."
"Chloe fucking owes me."
"Her favorite is the 1964 New York World's Fair that actually took place here in Queens. She can tell you all about that one. It's going to take awhile before we get that far."
"It's a good thing I'd listen to her talk about anything right now."
Aubrey would too. "Well, there's 173 years worth of fairs we need to cover before we get to that one – and we'll cover every detail of every one of them. So buckle in. This is the rest of your life now." She drapes an arm around her shoulders. "We'll begin with the year 1791. The first World Fair. In Prague. Celebrating the coronation of Leopold the II of Belgium. Before anything, we need to talk about the history of his life and the people who unfortunately had to meet his rubber production quota to appease him."
"Aubrey, if this isn't a testament to how much I want you to stay away from Howie, I don't know what is."
Yeah, Aubrey kind of picked up on that. "Thank you."
"So can we forget me listening to facts about 225 years worth of fairs since I technically did you a favor?"
"No." Aubrey has waited her entire life to give a presentation on The World's Fairs to literally anyone wiling to listen, and she's sure her grade school classmates who had to listen to her go on about just one of them would not envy Beca right now. "Now shut up. You might learn something."