Pilot Ridge Holiday Bash 2019

[Marnie Sullivan]

In order to reach the doughnut display, Marnie had to walk past the buffet itself. The scents she caught passing by, especially of the various comfort foods kept warm and displayed invitingly, were enough to pull in several of the attendees straight away. Marnie didn’t plan to ignore it all night - the scalloped potatoes covered in cheese in particular were calling her name - but there was little space for food in a stomach tight with nerves. Doughnuts were a sweet compromise, lightweight and less cumbersome than a full plate of food.

To reach the display, she also had to walk past other partygoers lingering nearby, admiring the display. She nearly bumped into a man in a green suit that should have caught her eye, had she not been so singularly focused. Two of them, even, though thankfully they were both polite about her oversight. Marnie scolded herself - she needed to pay more attention.

“Oh, sorry.”

“You’re fine, excuse me.” Marnie took a half-step to the side, making space. They were unfamiliar, both older than she was, but younger than her parents had been when they had attended. When the man in the green suit (and the ruffles, she noticed this time, enjoying the flair they gave his look) gestured to give her first go, she smiled, gave a small “thank you,” and stepped up to make her selection.

“They look real tasty, don’t they?”

“Oh, for sure,” she agreed, “it’s a great setup. Very festive.” Marnie took a napkin from the table at the foot of the display and used it to pluck a glazed doughnut from the snowman’s midsection. The chocolate ones looked more up her alley - hopefully she could snatch one later - but chocolate crumbs would also be more apparent on her white sweater. Better play it safe, she thought, stepping aside so the two men could get a chance.

Over their shoulders, Marnie caught sight of a hand waving - a hard-to-miss long arm on a tall human, she’d have noticed whether it was meant for her or not. But even from this distance she could recognize the towering landmark that was Dr. Neville, having been a student of Hammel only a few years ago. Which meant that was Mayor Bernstein with him. Marnie grinned and gave a small wave with her free hand. She would have to go say hi to them once she got a chance. For now, though, she was officially mingling, and she didn’t want to be rude and cut it short.

“Is this your first bash?”

“If I say yes, will I get hazed?” Marnie asked, still smiling but wondering if she looked that out of place. “I was living in Burlington last year so I couldn’t make it, but I wish I could have if this is what I missed. Have you two been before? Is the bash like this every year?” With people still trickling in and plenty of space on the dance floor she could tell the party wasn’t in full swing yet, but she was feeling heartened by the familiar faces. And maybe the sugar, a little.

[James Fawcett]

As soon as the younger woman had made her selection James stepped forward, grabbing a snowflake covered napkin that he used to snatch up another of the glazed donuts. The younger woman was full of questions, wasn't she? But that was honestly nice for someone who preferred to let other people lead the conversation as much as possible.

"Cyrus, you didn't tell me that we might get hazed," He chided, more ligthhearted than anxious - he didn't believe that hazing presented a serious threat at a relatively upscale Christmas party. "It's my first time, too, so I dunno how it is normally. Seems nice so far."

[Simon and Cyrus Ettinger]

“And to think, I left my wooden paddle at home on my nightstand.” His words, spoken confidently and coupled with a grin, left it to the imagination whether he was serious or merely building off the stereotypes about frat boys and hazing from days of yore. Whatever his private proclivities, he certainly had no interest in subjecting a young woman to a hazing ritual when there were doughnuts to eat, music to dance to, and another man’s attention to soak up.

Once the woman and then James had vacated the doughnut wall, granting Cyrus access to reach and an unobstructed view of the contents, he stepped up, craned his neck, and weighed his options for several silent seconds. Glazed was tempting in its simplicity, but there were three different icing options, a Neapolitan trio of chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry - some with colorful winter sprinkles, what appeared to be snowflakes and then simply “green” for the season; while others were bare. A row of white powdered sugar and chocolate cake; blueberry and then maple iced which would be perfect if Simon had chosen to attend in his stead, but with Cyrus here, he turned up his nose at the flavor. It was evening, not breakfast, and maple belonged firmly to the latter. The powder might shed onto his lapel, a point to its detriment; tonight he was dressed to impress.

Finally, he made his decision, used a nearby napkin to free a blueberry doughnut from its peg, before spinning around to face his company. Shifting the napkin to his left hand, he held out his right to the young woman for formal introductions. “Cyrus Ettinger, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

[Marnie Sullivan]

It put Marnie at ease a bit to hear both men running with her joke. Even more so when the first, after grabbing the same kind of doughnut that she did, admitted that he was a newcomer to the bash as well. He looked steadier than she felt, so perhaps being a first-timer wasn’t that big of a deal. If Marnie could mirror their confidence - fake it to make it through the evening - maybe she could pull this off.

“My name’s Marnie, Marnie Sullivan.” She had luckily not broken off a piece of her doughnut yet when she shook Cyrus’ hand. Sticky fingers would surely make for a bad first impression, she figured. Assuming Cyrus’ companion would join in now that the hand-shaking ice had been broken, she reached out to him next, smiling warmly. “It’s nice to meet you both. I love your suits, very festive.”