Foreign Objects

04 • Galileo

"...has found evidence that proves that Clarke Lopez's claims that his wife was abducted by aliens, are false. Police have reason to believe that Lopez murdered his wife and is using the current hoax as a means of covering it up-"

"Hey Jeremiah, my man!" He grins at me from the couch, causing me to take my eyes off the television screen. His eyes are glinting with mischief. He knows. He's well aware of how much I hate him and he finds it very entertaining.

I roll my eyes and just walk over to the coat rack, put on my jacket and walk out the door. Not going to deal with any bullshit today.

🥏🥏🥏

Gina's Bakery is lightly packed when I get there. As I walk in and the smell of pastries fill my nostrils, I feel so strange, seeing that I'd been smelling this place, and even tasted her famous donuts, all the way from my house.

But being present here feels different. The smell feels so much more...real. And it's now I realise how artificial the smell of it at home was. I can't even explain it properly. I can't explain how I could still smell Gina's all the way from my house, which is a couple streets away, or the lemon scent that fills my room up every morning, or having the taste of milk and cereal on my tongue or the taste of donuts just a moment ago.

"Want something, honey?" Gina McCain asks me from behind the counter, smiling softly. Guess she hasn't heard about Gran's death yet because knowing her, she'd have been looking at me with so much pity, just like she did after Jeremy died.

Her soft expression gets me calm a little. I force a smile.

"Um yeah, uh, I want some donuts."

"The usual?"

"Um no, uh, I don't want any toppings this time, just plain." Because that's how the one I felt on my tongue earlier tasted. Plain.

"Coming right up, you need them to go?"

I shake my head. "No I'm gonna stay for a little."

She nods. "Okay then, how about something to drink? Don't worry, it's on the house!"

She's always giving me freebies, but not really in elaborate ways though. When I buy something, she always makes sure to add a little something else.

"Thanks."

I walk over to an empty table and as I'm about to sit down, I spot her. Dee. She's at a table at the other end of the room, deep in conversation. Her friends are there, including Peyton, who has her back faced to me and I momentarily thank God for that.

Dee's looking boredly at Mike, a friend of theirs and he's talking with so much enthusiasm. I watch as she rolls her eyes a couple times, palm on her chin, facial features calm and a little ambiguous, like always. I can never really tell what's on her mind. She's always just been 'Peyton's best friend' to me, well, until that night when we...

I last saw her at school Friday before last period, in the library. I'd gone there to hide, because I couldn't handle the pool of tears in my eyes after my mom called to tell me about Gran. I didn't want my friends to start asking questions and I wasn't in the mind space to talk to anyone. By the time I'd gotten to the library, I was full on crying and I'd stumbled upon her in an ailse and I remember moving away quickly to hide my tears.

But, I remember clearly that when I looked at her back there, she was crying too. Her cheeks were tear stained and her eyes were reddened, and I'm sure that's pretty much how my face looked at that moment. Why was she crying? And why was she alone? I'd never seen Dee alone at school before. She's always with one or two or all members of her friend group, just like she is now. I'd known her since Freshman after I left St. Phillips private school for boys and started going to Bowcreek High and that's how she's always been.