Memoirs of Les Amis de l'ABC

Chapter Four: Baked Goods and Baked Compliments

"Grantaire," sighed Courfeyrac dramatically. "You simply must eat."

"Bread holds nothing but sorrow for me," complained the boy, "and water only a daunting affliction."

Courfeyrac sighed, "You're not a prisoner. You're eating a pastry and slightly watered coffee. You can muster that much."

"I cannot," whined the man. The collar of his green shirt was falling slightly. His eyes were still bloodshot, and Courfeyrac wondered if his companion was still immersed in a drunken stupor from his bender the night before. Grantaire noticed the man's gaze from across the small table and sat up straighter in his chair. "I am not still drunk," he said, knowing the man's fear.

"I never accused you of such," countered Courfeyrac.

"You certainly thought of it," glared Grantaire as he gazed at the pastry on the plate before him in disdain.

"I did," agreed Courfeyrac, "but I never said it aloud."

"That's just as bad," protested Grantaire during a bite of a pastry.

Courfeyrac scowled at him. "Can you chew with your mouth closed as if you have dined in the company of others before?"

"I didn't realize your patronage was something I should prepare so diligently for," muttered Granataire sarcastically as he took another bite.

Courfeyrac rolled his eyes. The drunkard's shenanigans were not up to their usual entertaining par so he was quickly growing weary of them. He found himself looking all around the bakery for any sign of conversation or a good time. He found none and sighed. Grantaire finished the pastry and asked for a scone. "You're ridiculous," Courfeyrac said to Grantaire though he rose to his feet to fetch one for the man nonetheless.

Once Courfeyrac sat back down, a pair of girls walked into the bakery. A bell attached to the door sounded which alerted him to look for their appearance. One was quite tall and dressed in a simple maroon dress with her dark hair twisted back. He couldn't notice anything particular special about her though he found himself for some reason curious about her. It had to do with the way she looked around at the surroundings especially at a door towards the back that he knew only led to Madame Rosalind's apartment. What was it?

The girl beside her wore a similar unimpressive lavender dress although her blonde locks fell loosely down her back while a bonnet was tied around her head. This girl wore a kind-looking smile on her features though her eyes were only locked on the baked goods in the glass case before her. She approached them as Courfeyrac watched. This girl was definitely the fairer of the two with her blue eyes and pale skin, but he found himself looking towards the other girl who looked utterly nervous.

"I wonder what her problem is," mused Courfeyrac aloud to Grantaire.

Grantaire maneuvered in his chair to spot the girls and shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps she's never been in a bakery before."

Courfeyrac chuckled. "That's what you're going with? You're going with 'perhaps she's never been in a bakery before?'"

"It's plausible," shrugged the artist once more.

"Eat your scone," Courfeyrac said, rolling his eyes.

The girls approached the counter while his back was to them. He could hear them chatting among themselves and sighed, looking at his companion in front of him. "So what should my angle be?" inquired Courfeyrac. "How do I approach them?"