The Resurrection of Aubrey Miller

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Authors: L. B. Simmons
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Quinn, Kaeleb, and myself. The pile of changes remains though—for laundry, of course.
    “I know. It’s just she knows everything about me, and she loves to push my buttons to hurt me. And I can’t get rid of her.”
    “Why the hell not?” I inquire. I’m so over that bitch. And I have a feeling we won’t be sharing any warm and fuzzies…ever.
    “Because…” Quinn pauses to wipe her eyes, finally moving out from behind the safety of her arm. “Because she’s in the same pageants as me. We’ve been doing them since we were kids. I’ve been forced to put up with her shit for years by my mother because it’s a social thing for her. It’s never been an option for me to stand up for myself because it would knock her clear off that precious country club social ladder she’s been climbing for years.”
    My right dimple sinks into my face as my lips scrunch to the same side, considering her statement, bringing back Sabrina’s words about the pageant circuit. I guess that explains the tiara/scepter combo.
    So my new friend is an actual, bonafide pageant queen. Lovely.
    As I eye her face cautiously, it becomes apparent to me how much I actually don’t know about her. I guess this friendship thing is supposed to be a two-way street and I’ve been traveling down one-way Raven Ave.
    I really suck at this stuff.
    That being said, I did just crown the new reigning Froot Loop Queen so that counts for something, right?
    “Wellllll…I kinda took care of that for you.”
    Quinn’s eyes almost fly out of their sockets as she snaps straight up in bed, catapulting her body only inches from mine and scaring the shit out of me. “WHAT?”
    I spy a subtle grin on her lips before she quickly voids it and clears her throat. “What did you do?” she whispers, eyes still wide.
    Once my heart rate settles—thanks for that, Quinn, as if I haven’t had enough adrenaline-fueled moments today—I wave my hand dismissively. “It was nothing, really. I just addressed the crowning comment… bypouringmycerealonherhead.” My words are quick in hopes that they fly right through her brain, not giving them ample time to sink in. Unfortunately, it’s a sad and futile effort.
    “WHAAAAAT?” she screams, eyeballs bulging further than thought possible.
    I glance at the floor before raising my guilty eyes to meet hers. Her mouth is wide open, and her skin is perhaps a bit ashen, but at least her eyes are still intact.
    Phew.
    Slowly, I reach over and press her jaw closed with the tips of my fingers before leaning back and shrugging my shoulders. “It wasn’t that big of a deal.”
    Quinn dips her chin to her chest and peers at me from underneath her lashes, her shocked expression falling into a smirk that definitely rivals Linda’s when she knows I’m full of shit. I just lift my shoulders in innocence.
    “Anyway,” I say on an exhale, “This isn’t about her. I want to talk about you.”
    Aaaaaand now we’re back to being shocked.
    “You…you want to talk about me ?”
    My face relaxes as I give her my best attempt at a comforting smile. “Yes. I do. If we’re going to be friends, I should know things about you, right?” I motion back and forth between us as I add, “Isn’t that how this works?” The question sounds rhetorical, but unfortunately, it’s not.
    Quinn answers with a nod of her head. “What do you want to know?”
    “Hmmm…” I drawl. “I guess I’m trying to understand this lack of eating issue we’ve got going on here. I mean, you have to eat, Quinn. You run every day like you’re training for a marathon, and some days you eat nothing more than an apple. That can’t be good for your body.” It’s true. An apple a day may keep the doctor away, but tack five miles onto that with nothing else to eat and I’m pretty sure it negates the whole idea.
    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

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