Sarah Joy Blaine

Chapter 2 - The croissant bandits.

There is no natural way for someone to discretely shove a croissant up their sleeve. Surely this is something that you would think is common knowledge, but apparently it was a realization that I had to shamefully experience whilst in the despair of my failure; and with a witness. We were at Sarah Joy's house, both standing at the designated food table. It was set on a large polished wooden table. A linen runner of some shade of green was mostly obscured by full platters and displays of mini sandwiches, scones, croissants and other things people had originally brought in boxes. Somewhere along the length of this table were the cupcakes we had bought; now unpacked and placed neatly on a plate.

She halted - scone in hand - staring at me and my tight sleeve, the unmistakable half croissant sticking out in a sorrowful manner. When she glanced back at me - after having inspected the saucers neatly stacked to my left - it almost felt as if she considered coming to the poor pastry's aid. When did she get this close to me, and were croissants even classified as pastries?

"It was a beautiful service." It seemed that we were going to ignore the croissant then. Good. "You gave a lovely speech dear. Sarah was your cousin wasn't she?" I tried desperately to remember this woman's name.

"Thank you," I covered my right fist with my left hand and rotated the unit into myself; I had made it far enough with this woman to want to spare her the embarrassing thump that would surely occur if I lost grip now. I also wasn't all too sure about what I would do if I did in fact drop the croissant. She was standing right next to me, and to any onlooker either one of us could be the culprit behind the interruption. "Yes she was."

"I'm so sorry." Her eyebrows and lips seemed to have weights attached to their ends, they were dragged down her face, and her eyes watered heavily from the exertion. "Sarah was a lovely girl; she was always back and forth if Grace or I ever needed anything from each other. She really was just such a lovely girl."

I smiled lowly and nodded. My own eyebrows joining the weight class that hers were taking. Every person I had met today had just been another reminder that my cousin was dead. I could feel the heavy, sticky, raw sadness that one feels when losing their blood. But, it felt - in a way - perhaps too much exactly like blood. It clung to me and it blinded me and it trapped me in this warm soundless pool of red. My stomach seemed to contort and lurch when I thought about the moment when the drains would open up below me, and I'd suddenly feel the cold again, and I'd have to wash all the red off and away.

The paradox of my polite smile and drawn down eyebrows must have made me look like a half-thawed relic; I felt it in the way my face stiffened. This was made more severe when I locked eyes with a boy across the room.

Dark brown eyes stood out against high cheekbones. His hair sat delicately atop his head; a halo of golden curls. The boy was so incredibly striking in the most subtle and subdue ways. Striking like afternoon sunlight on lazy days. I wondered why I hadn't noticed him before; but looking at him carefully - I saw that no matter how significant his presence, it wasn't imposing and demanding like that of those magnificently curved marble statues. His posture, and everything about him, was the pure embodiment of existence. He looked comfortable and confident without having to demand space, he blended into his surroundings, while still enhancing them somehow.

He stood up-right, a neutral expression worn on his face. He kept eye contact with me for a second before giving me a small and polite smile. Then he seemed to notice two things simultaneously: the forgotten croissant, and the woman standing in front of me. I could see him struggling to decide which to process first. It was either the manner and location of his standing, my active imagination, or his eyes did actually gleam for a split second. He pressed his lips together, suppressing a laugh. Then before I knew it, he was walking up to the two of us.