"Jesse, what do you think," Aubrey asked, twirling around in the shimmery, black dress, "It looks good, doesn't it?" Jesse nodded without even looking up from his phone, resulting with a pout from Aubrey and a pillow tossed in his direction.
The fabric formed around her body, making her blond hair stand out a little more than usual. "Are you even paying attention to me," she asked, "You know the winter dance is in less than a month and we still have nothing to wear." Sighing, he put his phone down, leaning back on her bed with his hands behind his head, "Everything looks good on you, Bree. Don't worry about it." His nonchalant response earned him a huff as she turned on her heel, desperate to dig through her shopping bags until she tried on every dress her father's credit card had bought her.
Jesse, pulling his shoes off and kicking his feet back on her bed, waited for her reappearance from the attached bathroom. Studying the walls, he could see rows of medals and trophies from everything from gymnastics to debate club. There were hardly any spots to put any pictures, like Beca had decided on plastering upon her bedroom walls, or movie posters, which Jesse glanced at every time he came into his own room.
It was almost like her life, consumed by all her extracurriculars, had no personal touch at all. Agendas full of dance classes to SAT tutors to midterm studying covered her desk, but there was never anything that said 'hang out with friends', 'go to the movies', or 'relax for an hour'. Everything in Aubrey's life was planned out to the 't' and sometimes Jesse couldn't understand how she never cracked under the pressure.
Making sure she was consumed with sorting through her handful of dresses, Jesse continued to type out a text. No, Beca. Don't you even think of not coming to the dance. They have had this discussion a million times over. She hates dresses. She doesn't want to waste her money on hair and makeup and all that other stuff. She just wants to stay home and buy some new records. Beca had literally given him every excuse she could possibly muster up, declining his whines at every occurrence. She had even tried to say that if he stopped pestering her about going to the dance, she would go a whole week without protesting the movies he had picked up for them to watch. He had almost broke, but he was determined to get her to the dance.
Jesse, please. What is it? Like 4 hours of loud music and sweaty bodies? I don't think so. He wasn't surprised at her response, but he also wasn't satisfied. He knew she would pretend to be mad at the dance, pretending to be having a terrible time. There would be a moment, he just knew, when a smile would shine through her scowl and then he would know that all his hard work wouldn't have been for nothing. Beca tried to be all tough and scary, donning that ear spike, but she was really a softie. She would never admit it and he would never say it out loud unless he was ready to be attacked by a pillow. Here was the girl that always wore black and blocked out the world with her headphones, but she was also the girl that giggled uncontrollably when he made a fool out of himself and the girl who danced with him without even protesting too much.
"Jesse, how about this," Aubrey spun around, making the dress' material follow her every turn, "I think this is the one." She looked herself up and down, admiring the lace covering the silky fabric underneath. "Jesse, what are you doing? Look at me," her face turned stern, eyeing the phone in his hands. He had been typing out messages for as long as she had been trying on dresses. She knew it was probably Chloe or Bumper or even Amy. She just hoped it was not that girl, that alt girl who was always invading her life. Beca.
.....
The play from all those years ago still stuck out in Aubrey's mind. She had picked out the perfect song, practicing for days upon days. Her tiny hands gingerly touched each dress in the shop before deciding on one for her audition. Every night Aubrey's voice could be heard throughout the entire Posen household. Surrounded by other six year olds, Aubrey paid no attention to them. She sat at the edge of her seat, gazing at her sheet music and straightening out her dress while waiting for her name to be called. She was so wrapped up in herself that she didn't notice a young girl, about her age, take the stage. The girl was dressed in jeans and a tee shirt with black converse. Scuffing at her, Aubrey didn't even look up when the music began to play.
Suddenly, she could hear the crowd go silent. It was like time came to a halt. The whispered conversations and shuffling of sheet music ceased and the only thing that could be heard was the girl's voice.
Aubrey knew she was good; everyone had always told her she was destined for greatness. She doubted herself a few times, but she always knew she was better than all the girls that usually auditioned for the school play. This girl was different. Vaguely, she remembered the girl from school. Rebecca Mitchell, captain of no sports teams and president of no clubs, never crossed the mind of Aubrey before. She wasn't competition, until now. Beca's clear voice rang through the theater, demanding the attention of anyone and everyone.
Aubrey sat a little higher in her seat to glance at her father and mother sitting in the audience, waiting for their little girl to sing. Her father's eyes weren't glued to a phone like they always were when she was trying to practice for him. They were plastered on Beca, in awe of her voice.
Whenever she sang at home, it was always, "That's great, Honey. Keep practicing." Beca's song ended as she walked off the stage while Aubrey, glancing once more at her father as he stood up to applaud Beca, just looked straight ahead until her name was called.
Gliding onto the stage, Aubrey made sure she was standing up straight and tall before the pianist started to play. It was going well, at least she thought it was. She could see a few people chatting, talking to their friends, but most of the attention was on her. Her mother was staring intently and Aubrey gave her a wide smile. Her father, on the other hand, was not so discreetly texting on his phone. Once the song concluded, she bowed and walked off the stage straight towards her parents.
"Nothing less than amazing, sweetheart," her mother had praised her while her father nodded alongside, "Absolutely spectacular." Mrs. Posen took her daughter into her arms, hugging her tight. Aubrey happily accepted the bouquet of flowers her father pulled out from the seat next to them.
"So, do you think I'll get the part," she asked, tilting her head up to glance at her father as he turned his phone around and around in his hands.
"You were wonderful, like always, Bree, but there were other girls that were amazing too. That Beca girl, she was great as well. You should see what vocal teacher she has. Her voice can't just be natural," Mr. Posen caught himself when his saw his own daughter started to look towards the ground, "Anyways, Bree. You'll get the part. Otherwise, if at first you don't succeed, you'll be sure to succeed in something else. Maybe try the violin like your friend, Jessica."
Aubrey stopped listening when she heard the name, Beca. Plastering on a happy face, thanking her father for his nice comments, she hid the anger that welled up inside herself. Beca would never see what's coming for her.
Three days later, Beca's name appeared on the call sheet and Aubrey's was nowhere in sight.
.....
It's not like Aubrey didn't feel sorry for how badly she treated Beca back when they were younger. There was gossip spread and rumors swirling around the school. Yes, the gossip she made up might've been juvenile, but it was all in good fun, right? She didn't have to worry about Beca for years when she left, quickly trying to erase the girl from her memories.
Then she came back. With her headphones and plaid shirts and jeans, Beca shouldn't have stood out. She looked like she rolled out of the bed everyday, and Aubrey didn't doubt that was actually how she would get ready for school everyday. She didn't pick out her clothes and all her accessories the night before like Aubrey always did. At lunch, Beca scarfed down bags of chips and sandwiches, laughing among her group of friends. Looking down at her own lunch, Aubrey just pushed the pieces of lettuce around on her plate. She wished she didn't care about what she looked like. Aubrey could just imagine not having to watch everything she ate or planning every second of her life out. Aubrey had to be perfect and she hated it. The thing was, Beca didn't work to be perfect and she was considered that by everyone she came in contact with.
She was automatically accepted into Jesse's friend group. Chloe hung onto her and chatted with her whenever she could. Amy and Bumper, even though many people they met never seemed to understand them, almost immediately clicked with Beca. She understood their jokes and even contributed to their humor. Whenever Aubrey talked to them, they always seemed to be on edge. Jesse, once they started dating, tried to include her into his friend group, but they never seemed to mesh well. Aubrey was scared of Lilly, Bumper and Amy were obviously against her, and Chloe never really opened up to her. That's why, after months of trying, Aubrey just retreated back to her own group of friends. She occasionally talked to Chloe, but their talks always seemed too polite and calculated.
That's why it was hard to wrap her head around how Beca could so seamlessly bond with all of them. Aubrey didn't care if Beca was friends with Amy or Bumper or even Chloe. She just cared about Jesse. Ever since Beca came back, which was months ago, he started to become more distant. He thought she wouldn't notice how he was always texting Beca when they were hanging out or how he would accidentally slip up and mention his inside jokes with Beca when they were talking about the same subject. She knew about their lunch hangouts and how he would go over her house every morning. It was like he was slowly disappearing from her and she absolutely hated it.
"Yeah, Bree. I like that dress," Jesse responded while looking down at his phone, attempting to hide his smile. Aubrey knew her suspicions were correct, it was Beca. She sighed and returned to her closet, getting all the creases out of her dress and hanging it up beside all the others.
Jesse sent out a final text before looking back at Aubrey. It'll be like the second grade dance all over again. Please come, Bec. Everyone really wants you to come. I want you to come.