𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃, joseph descamps

𝟎𝟏𝟑. a cupcake for two

BAKING HAD BECOME a kind of torture for her, a bittersweet punishment. Each whip, each measurement of ingredient serves as a cruel reminder of what she can no longer afford. Despite this, she enjoys engaging in this ritual. It offers her a moment of escape, a space where the outside world, with its expectations and judgments, fades away.

It's her sweet moment in a world that is far too bitter.

She starts by gathering the ingredients on the counter : flour, sugar, eggs, and a stick of room-temperature butter. The softness of the textures and the sound of the utensils envelop her in a bubble of comfort. She carefully measures the flour, making sure everything is perfect. Each movement is like a dance, a routine she has practiced so many times that it comes to her naturally. She mixes the butter and sugar until creamy, then adds the eggs one by one, followed by a splash of vanilla extract.

With the mixture ready, she pours the batter into pretty molds. The bright colors of the paper liners bring her an inexplicable satisfaction. She lets herself be momentarily intoxicated by the delicious, sweet aroma spreading through the kitchen as the cupcakes bake in the oven.

Yet, deep down, an emptiness settles in. Her stomach growls, the pain of deprivation mingling with the tempting scent of the cakes. Salivating, she forces herself to focus on the frosting. She mixes butter, sugar, and vanilla extract again, each motion like a rehearsal of her misfortune.

As she spreads a generous layer of frosting on each cupcake, she takes the time to decorate them with a slice of orange. The brightness of the citrus adds a freshness and vibrant color. But as she admires her work, she remembers why she does all this. It's not for her. It's no longer for her.

Once the task is complete, she places her cupcakes in a basket and puts on her coat. She carefully ties her hair into a bun, a comforting gesture she repeats almost instinctively. Before leaving the house, she kisses her mother, who wishes her a good day, before stepping out into the biting morning cold.

Arriving at school, she heads toward the entrance, the basket in hand. The sounds of the courtyard resonate around her: groups of classmates laugh and chat, and the surrounding chatter reminds her of how hard it is for her to feel like she belongs. She hesitates as she approaches the group that includes Simone, Michèle, Henri, Alain, and Yves, her heart racing.

"I brought cupcakes," she declares as she joins them, a smile on her lips. Her classmates' eyes light up at the mention of the treats.

"Cupcakes ?!" exclaims Michèle with a radiant smile. "You're the best !"

She hands them the basket, watching with a mix of joy and fear as each person takes a cupcake, the taste of vanilla and the scent of orange wafting through the air around them. Laughter and jokes fly, and for a moment, she feels lifted by this atmosphere of camaraderie.

At the back of the courtyard, Joseph stands apart, a cigarette in hand, watching the scene with an unreadable expression. Aimée feels a pang in her heart seeing him there, like a familiar shadow. She hesitates, her gaze shifting between him and the group.

With a cupcake in hand, she wonders if she should approach him. She wants to offer him one, to share this moment of sweetness with him. In the end, she dismisses the thought. It feels silly.

"So, how's it going, Aimée ?" asks Henri, settling next to her with a cupcake in hand, ready to devour it.

"I'm good, thanks," she replies, trying to hide the strange mix of pleasure and frustration that overwhelms her. She watches her friends enjoy the cupcakes with visible appetite, savoring each bite with delighted exclamations. The sight of the cupcakes disappearing one by one into their stomachs disturbs her. She hasn't eaten any, aware that her stomach pulls her toward temptation, but she clings to her resolve.

The day drags on slowly, filled with math and literature classes, but every moment is tinged with Joseph's presence. She feels his gaze on her, especially during lunch, where he sits at a table apart. Despite the distance, she feels like every time she looks up, he is there, watching, as if he knows how she feels.

Finally, the bell rings, signaling the end of classes. The students begin to rise, gathering their things and laughing at their exchanges. She stands up, her heart racing, ready to leave the building. At that moment, she turns and meets Joseph's gaze. He stands there, right at the classroom door, hands in his pockets.

"Aimée, wait," he says in a low but firm voice as she exits the classroom, her bag and basket in hand.

"Hmmmn ?"

"You know, about the cupcakes... You should think about yourself too, you know."

Aimée looks down, embarrassed. She knows he's referring to her inability to enjoy the treats she makes, but the way he speaks makes her feel like he sees beyond her smile. "It's just... complicated for me," she murmurs, her voice barely audible. "I love making them, but..."

They walk together, leaving the school under the gray afternoon sky. The air is crisp, and she tightens her scarf around her neck. Finally, as they pass through the gate, she reaches into her basket and pulls out the last cupcake, the only one left. She holds it out in front of her, hesitating, before offering it to Joseph.

"Here, for you," she suggests, hoping he will accept.

He looks at the cupcake with an amused expression, then shakes his head. "No, no, you should eat it. I don't want it."

"I'd rather you take it than let it go to waste."

"No, really. You take it," he insists.

They playfully bicker, every time she insists, he gently pushes back, and their laughter mixes with the cool air. Joseph is stubborn, but Aimée is just as determined.

"If you don't take it, I'm going to eat it right in front of you," she threatens, pretending to bring the cupcake to her mouth.

He smiles, amused, but doesn't give in. "You wouldn't do that, would you ?"

Aimée starts to smile, but in a moment of defiance, she brings the cupcake closer to her mouth. He reacts quickly, and in one motion, he grabs the cupcake and, before she can react, stuffs it into his mouth.

"Mmh !" exclaims Aimée, surprised. The crumbs of cake mix with the sweet frosting, and she can't help but burst out laughing at the sight of Joseph making an exaggerated face.

"You wanted me to eat it, after all !"

She rolls her eyes, a playful smile on her lips, having forgotten her blockade over that simple cupcake. "You're impossible !"

"I know," he admits, savoring his victory. "But that's part of my charm, right ?"

She lightly hits him on the arm, her embarrassment slowly fading. When she sees him lean closer to her, Aimée wants to step back, but with a fingertip, he gently wipes away the frosting left on her lips. "There you go, all clean," he teases.