Page 56 of Sad Girl Hours
But it’s not completely normal. I know for sure now what I’ve always suspected. More’s going on for Saffron than she’s ever let on to me – to any of us. She is keeping us at a distance, and she’s doing it for a reason.
Chapter Twenty-four
Nell
Soon our stomachs are full, and the entire house smells of sweet cinnamon and stewed pumpkin. It’s strange how nostalgic autumn makes me feel, even as it’s still happening. I guess that’s the thing with autumn. The other seasons feel like their own thing, distinct and intransient. Autumn, however, is undeniably in between things, the fading of crisp lines into a warm blur of something else entirely. It feels like an exhale, a letting go, between the blooming heat and brightness of summer and the stark harshness of winter. I wish I could hold on to it for longer, but I guess that’s also part of why I love it so much. It doesn’t feel as though it’s here for long, so I embrace it for all it is while it’s here.
“OK.” I finish wiping the batter from the side of the bowl and chuck the dishcloth into the sink with gusto. “Time to get changed and head out for pumpkin fun times.”
“Oh.” Something occurs to Saffron. “I don’t have a change of clothes with me. And I don’t really want to go out like this again.”
“That’s OK, you can borrow something of mine.” I scan her up and down. “It’ll probably have to be a skirt or a dress, given my trousers would be cut-offs on you and that’s not really the vibe.”
“Curse my excess of leg.”
“Don’t curse it. I personally think you have the exact right amount of leg. Proportionally, I mean,” I add, even though Saffron’s long legs are definitely longer than is strictly proportional.
“Thank you,” she says. “I think. It’s always nice when someone compliments how proportional you are. I still don’t think I should borrow your clothes, though.”
“Oh, come on – it’ll be fun.” I head for the stairs. “I’ll even let you make a silly little video of it. A ‘my friend kidnaps me and dresses me up in her style’ thing.”
“That’s actually not a bad idea.” Saffron’s mild surprise chases me up the stairs. “We’ll make a content creator out of you yet, Nell.”
“No, thank you. I’ll leave that to the experts and stick to my unplugged hobbit lifestyle if you don’t mind.”
My statement proves a little ironic, given the fact that we spend the next half an hour filming a video together of me throwing out various outfit choices for Saffron to try on. Some look a little ridiculous, like – as I suspected – all of my trousers. But then she picks out one of my longer dresses, a simple brown one, and puts an embroidered corset-style waistcoat over the top, and … well. She looks good. Really good in fact.
“What do you think?” She swishes in front of the mirror, camera propped up on my dresser.
I pretend to grump while I watch her. “I think I’m mad that you look better than me in all my clothes.”
Saffron raises her eyebrow. “Are we forgetting the fact that your trousers made me look like a little lad that likes berries and cream?”
I let out a cackle without meaning to. “Never. But you don’t look like a little lad any more. You look beautiful.”
Saffron’s cheeks flush pink, which only adds to the free-spirited Renaissance princess vibe she’s giving off. She looks like she’s just come in from practising sword fighting or riding her horse over the moors to visit her secret Renaissance girlfriend in her cottage where she runs an apothecary. I wonder whether I could make her blush more often if I wanted to.
“So…” Saffron says, fiddling with the skirt of her (my) dress, “I’m clothed. Where are we going?”
“Hold your horses. I’m not going out as Poe.” I rifle through some of my clothes from the floor, ones that we discarded for Saffron. “Erm… Ah, this and … this.”
I select a deep green blouse with a bow, a brown linen suit and waistcoat (and two pairs of tights to keep me toasty) and start to get changed.
Saffron loiters in front of my dressing table, absent-mindedly touching all the crow trinkets I’ve gathered on it.
I make eye contact with her in the reflection of the mirror as I pull the top on and notice a pink flush not just on her cheeks, but on the sliver of neck I can see between her gold curls.
Interesting.
Maybe I might not be feeling the things that I’ve heard can manifest in the rose hues that I noticed creeping across Saffron’s skin, but I think I’m enjoying makingSaffronfeel them.
“OK,” I say, making the final alterations to my ensemble. “You ready?”
“I’m ready,” Saffron says a little breathlessly. “Where are we going?”
Later, we’ll pick up our pumpkins, but for now we’re going to the woods. “Halloween is always a peak autumnal day,” I explain to Saffron as we walk deeper into the trees surrounding Williamson Park, “so I thought we should make the most of that.”
I bring us to a stop in the clearing and pull out a piece of paper from my jacket pocket.
