You Remember Me, Right?

Chapter 14

"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.