The Resurrection of Aubrey Miller(18)

The resulting look on Quinn’s face is an equal mixture of guilt and sadness. The pain in her features is blatantly evident as I watch her expression fall with her tears. No words are spoken between us until she’s ready.
“I’m just so…tired, Raven. So, so tired. Tired of Sabrina picking at everything I do. Tired of letting her do it. But most of all, I’m tired of thinking.”
Her eyes fill with unshed tears as she speaks. “My mind runs nonstop, all day long. I shouldn’t have eaten that. If I eat this, then I can’t eat this. These jeans are tighter than they used to be. I’m getting a pouch on my stomach. I can definitely pinch more than I could yesterday. I just can’t take it anymore!” she finally shouts, bolting off the bed.
Her feet on a mission, she walks over to our shared table, fists the pile of change in the palm of her hand and then screws open the lid of the retired swear jar, throwing every last bit of our money inside. Well, with the exception of the dime that just hit the floor. I listen to it roll while thinking that I’m not really sure why she’s dumping change into the jar, because we don’t use it anymore.
Maybe it’s a metaphorical statement she feels she needs to make.
She slams the jar back down onto the table and turns back to me, her eyes blazing with anger and frustration. “I AM SO FUCKING EXHAUSTED!” Her head falls into her hands, and her shoulders tremble with her sobs.
Tears pool on my lower lashes and my chin begins to quiver, her torment slicing my heart wide open as I watch her break right in front of my eyes. Rising from the bed, I step toward her, knowing the sight of her own walls being shattered right in front of me has temporarily obliterated my need for self-preservation. I feel every ounce of her hopelessness as I travel the short distance between us, not stopping until I’m standing right in front of her. Awkwardly my arms rise, the hesitation in my movements causing them to jerkily bob up and down before I take in a deep breath, calming the anxiety building in my chest, and finally circle them around her tiny upper body. Uncertainty still pounds within my ears as I tighten my grip on her, hoping like hell this is what I’m supposed to do when comforting a friend.
Quinn stills immediately, her cries ceasing for the briefest of moments before she wraps her arms around my waist and buries her head into my shoulder, letting her pain flow. The moisture from her tears drains onto the collar of my favorite Pink Floyd T-shirt as I hold onto my friend, trying to absorb her despair into my already polluted existence. She’s too good, too pure, to have to hold this much anguish in her heart. I already have plenty; what’s a little more on top of it if it helps her?
My arms continue to envelop her until her sobs soften into light whimpers. Once I feel she’s finally found the release she’s been looking for, I lessen my hold, careful not to let go until she’s ready. Slowly she unwraps her arms and takes a step back, self-consciously tucking a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear before clearing the moisture from her face with both hands. Sucking in a breath, she finally brings her eyes to mine.
“I’m sorry,” she says on a ragged breath. “It’s just…I’ve been holding in a lot. I didn’t mean to explode like that in front of you.”
I give her a small, but genuine smile. “It’s fine, Quinn. Really.”
An unfamiliar ache spreads throughout my chest, because as I speak those words of comfort to my friend, I’m forced to acknowledge the longing buried somewhere deep within my soul that wants to yell and scream and tear the room apart for all the loss I’ve had to endure.
That I’ve caused.
Quinn praises my strength, the ability to look and act like a freak without the fear of judgment rendered, but in all actuality, she’s the only one in this room with true courage. Mine is a mere fa?ade.
My throat narrows, making it increasingly difficult to swallow, so I break eye contact from her, directing my glance at a flash of silver that catches my eye. Bending at the waist, I pinch the dime between my fingers and rise, extending my arm to hand it to Quinn. My somber features are replaced with a subtle grin as I drop it into her palm. “This one’s mine. You don’t get the monopoly on breakdowns around here.” A sheepish smile appears before she turns and places the dime in its rightful place next to the jar.
Twisting back in my direction, she reaches for my arm and gives it a slight squeeze. “Thank you, Raven. I feel like I can breathe for the first time in a long time.” After she releases me, she steps back and jerks her chin toward the bathroom. “I’m going to take a quick shower before our next class.”
I nod and watch as she walks away, and then sit on the edge of my bed to take in a much needed breath, suddenly exhausted.
It’s been a rather emotional day for me.
Just before the bathroom door shuts, it whips back open and Quinn’s head pops out from behind it. “And you are going to tell me the full, unedited version of what exactly happened with Sabrina after I left as soon as I step out of this shower!” She smiles widely, and once again begins to close the door, but not before jutting her hand out of the small crack she left open. “Oh! Can you get my brush? It’s somewhere around my desk I think!”
“Sure,” I respond, pressing myself off the bed. My eyes rake over the surface of the desk, no brush in sight. I open her top drawer with no success, but upon flinging open the second drawer an envelope slides across the slick bottom before hitting the side wall, the impact spilling out the contents.
An inaudible gasp passes through my throat at what is strewn out right in front of me. Tears once again prick my eyes as I stare open mouthed at a picture of a girl—her haunting, desolate expression glaring back at me. Quinn. A much younger version, and about one-hundred pounds heavier, but it’s definitely her. I’m transfixed on the picture, her vacant eyes nothing like the cheerful ones I’ve come to know. My fingers tremble as I reach into the drawer and slowly fan out the pile of photos so I can see what’s underneath. What I find chills me to the core.