The Resurrection of Aubrey Miller(13)

And it’s a good thing.
Because Mr. McMadden does, in fact, have a magnificent derrière.
Not that I was looking.


Chapter Seven

Over the next month, Quinn and Kaeleb make it their personal mission to try and break through my painfully obvious attempts at obscurity. It’s been non-stop. Kaeleb’s questioning especially.
Sigh.
Kaeleb.
Much to my relief, after several more inquiry-filled classes in trust education, he’s still very much alive, but honestly, some days I really want to kill him—metaphorically speaking, of course.
It’s usually when we perform the trust fall exercise, which we’re forced to do during every single class. Not once has he performed this exercise without making an asinine comment—normally referencing some random way he could die if I drop him—prior to falling backwards into my arms.
So recently, as a form of payback for the rappelling incident as well as any stupid comment he makes during class, it has become habit to catch him but then promptly let his body fall to the ground from the safe two foot height. This often results in very inappropriate laughter—his out loud and mine inwardly—from the both of us as well as an extremely disapproving glare from Dr. Palmer.
No matter how hard he lands, it doesn’t seem to deter his sarcastic remarks about death or his probing questions about my personal life. Quinn’s resolve never falters either and between the both of them, I’m losing my mind. Partly because their tenacity won’t let me just be. But mostly, it stems from the constant confusion warring in my mind when subjected to their repeated attempts. Because the fact of the matter is, I actually want to answer them, to let down my manufactured walls and allow them into my highly dysfunctional, warped mind.
And that scares me shitless.
So instead of offering actual answers, I give them only monosyllabic and/or elusive responses, often in the form of a returned question. For example, Successful Evasion Number One by Quinn Matthews, approximately one month ago. Here’s the conversation between Quinn and me:
Quinn (as we eat Ramen Noodles in our room): “Do you guys know each other?”
Me: “Who?”
Q: “You and Kaeleb?”
Me: (Full facial flush accompanied by throat clearing) “Who?”
Q: “Kaeleb. You guys just seem really comfortable. Well, not comfortable, but familiar. With your banter and how you seem to just get under each other’s skin. It just seems like you know each other.”
Me: “Huh. Weird. How was class?”
Successful Evasion Number Two, approximately three weeks ago. Brought to you by Kaeleb McMadden on our way to class:
Kaeleb: “So, Raven, what’s your story?”
Me: “Um, story?”
K: “Yes, Raven. Please shed some light on the enigma that is you.”
Me: (Sighs inwardly) “Why do you keep saying my name like that?”
K: “What? Like, Raven?”
Me: “Yes. Like, Raven.”
K: (Shrugs shoulders) “I don’t know. I guess I just find it an interesting choice for a name. Obvious symbolism and all. It’s almost as though it was prophetic in nature.”
Me: (Narrows glare and smirks) “Can you please stop saying it that way? It’s getting on my nerves. You are getting on my nerves.”
K: (Chuckles lightly under breath) “As you wish…Raven.”
Me: (Internal blood-curdling scream as I increase my pace and distance)
(Loud cackling from fifteen feet behind me)
Successful Evasion Number Three, about a week ago. Tag team, and quite possibly the worst, attempt by Quinn Matthews and Kaeleb McMadden in our dorm room:
Kaeleb: “Seriously, Raven, I have to ask what’s up with the contacts?”
Quinn: “Yeah, I mean, I like the purple today, but why do you always wear them?”
(Both stare expectantly)
Kaeleb: (Clasps hands together and points at Quinn)“Dude! She should get some zombie ones. Those would be so f*cking cool.” (Deposits quarter into the jar)
Quinn: “O-M-G! YES! Or those ones that are completely black with no iris!”
Kaeleb: “Like I said, zombie.”
Quinn: “No, totally black ones would be like a demon or something. Zombie ones would be like, you know, grey and cloudy looking. Like my grandpa’s.” (Glances back at me) “He has cataracts.”
Kaeleb: “Are you sure?” (Pulls out phone)
Quinn: “Yes! It’s really creepy. It makes my eyes water when I look at him.”
Kaeleb: (Laughs) Kinda like when I look at Raven’s cat-eyes.”
Me: (Sighs and picks up backpack to head to the library) “You guys really need to get a life.”
And for the finale, a compilation of questions dodged over the last four weeks (I’ll let you guess who said what):
“What color is your hair naturally?”
“What are your parent’s names? What do they do?”
“Do you ever do anything but scowl?”
“Do you have any pets?” (Sigh…Walter.)
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
“Have you ever had a boyfriend?”
“Are you a virgin?”
“Do you have any siblings?”
“What are your hobbies?”
“Who is Linda to you?”
“Where did you go to high school?”
“Did you play sports?”
“Do you own anything other than baggy pants, concert shirts, and Docs?”
“So, no tight-ass mini-dresses?”
And this has been the hell I have had to endure since school started.
So, needless to say, when waking up this morning to “Raven, seriously, what color is your hair? I’m dying to know!” I have no choice but to finally cave under the pressure. I guess Quinn has decided to change tactics and hit me up before my brain has any chance to fire up any neurological activity, leaving me utterly defenseless against her line of questioning.