Paragon (n.)

Hank 1: The Supermarket

June: one year A.G.

The ironic bit was that Hank never went to the store with this mom. She always shuffled between work and home, magically managing to pick up food when she could. But that day, he’d suddenly realised how much he truly had missed his mother while he’d been away.

So rather than finding a slot of free time in her schedule, he managed to tumble out of bed in time to catch her before she shot off to the store. The ride over had been quiet, mainly consisting of Hank fighting the waves of exhaustion that seemed to frequent him every few minutes. But once they arrived a silent routine formed, they split up and Hank went to find the items on his half of the list.

He was in the baking aisle when he recognised something out of the corner of his eye. A wisp of brown hair fluttered by the same brown hair which he’s spent the last six months of his senior year of high school staring at. Hair he hadn't seen for a year, which belonged to a girl he hadn't even thought of for a month. He was proud of that, she'd finally left his mind, he wasn't constantly wondering where she was or how she was. His pride had consumed his thoughts leaving his body to wander freely, so he was surprised to now be standing in front of the freezer section blankly staring at the owner of the wisp of brown hair.

She was debating between two ice creams, in high waisted jean cut offs and a university shirt that he couldn't quite place. Which was odd since he was sure he'd gone through almost every school when he was applying last year. Suddenly being this close to her was nerve racking, he'd planned on at least saying hi but doubt had swarmed his head and his original plan was starting to crumble. Nevertheless he plastered on his perfected socially admirable smile and approached her.

“Sian?” His voice caused her head to jerk up, and her eyes to go wide

His name left her mouth as a whisper followed by a clearly automatic greeting, “Hank, how are you?”

His smile remained in place, even though he was extremely tempted to let it drop and to replace it with a realistic grin, but he didn't.

“I'm great, you know college, freshman year was rough but I survived. How've you been?”

“Good.” It was short, brief, to the point, kinda like Sian was.

It was clear that he would get no information on her year of being MIA through pleasant small talk in the freezer aisle of the town's supermarket, yet he still tried.

The conversation lasted around ten minutes or so until she was pulled away by her father's call. Which left Hank alone, surrounded by ice cream and ready meals, wondering as to how she always made him feel disoriented when she left. Which was something she did a lot.