My hand was starting to get tired as I moved my spatula counter clockwise around my mixing bowl. I was standing over the stainless steel island in our schools industrial kitchen. Whenever I’m sad, I bake to get my mind off of it, and I had many emotions that I needed to viciously stir into a light and fluffy batter. My navy apron was peppered in various sized dots of lemon cupcake batter. I was getting ready to pour the mixture into the muffin pan when I realized I didn’t have the liners in it.

I walked into the backroom of the kitchen and perused the ridiculously messy white shelf they have back there for baking supplies. There were half melted birthday candles lying in the same pile as the dusty vials of food coloring. The box that was supposed to contain bottles of sprinkles had more sprinkles in it then the bottles it contained. The bottom of the box looked as if it were every holiday at once, red and pink hearts mixed with green trees and white snowflakes. I finally found the liners lying I behind a box that was supposed to contain lighters, but really contained a half used can of Crisco.

I then returned to the kitchen and was about to start lining the cupcake container when he walked in. He was carrying and orange water bottle and was presumably just there to get water, but upon seeing me, he walked over to the island.

“What are you baking?” He asked me as he propped himself up on the island with one hand and played with his black earring with the other.

“ It’s a surprise,” I said as I started to line the muffin pan.

“Yeah, but I want in on the surprise”, he replied.

“Fine, I’ll tell you, but first I need to make the frosting. Will you me some powdered sugar?” I asked him as I finished lining the containers.

I began to pour the thick yellow liquid out into the tin. I did this same patter for all three tins and then put them in the oven. After setting the timer for 30 minutes, I realized that he had not come back with the powdered sugar yet. I walked into the backroom and when I opened the door, a cloud of seemed like white smoke hit my face. I opened my mouth and realized that it was sweet. When I opened my eyes, I saw him standing there. His purple tee-shirt was now completely white and he gave me a very guilty look.

“I had a bit of an accident,” he said laughing a little and then coughing as he inhaled more of the powder.

“I can see that,” I said smiling back at him.

I walked past him and grabbed another pack of powdered sugar. I then walked right back out again. He attempted to follow me, leaving a trail in his wake.

“Stop!” I said, turning around frantically.

“What?” he replied.

“Go back into the back room, and shake off.” I said pointing towards the door.

I grabbed a broom and dustpan and then followed him into the back. He began to shake off his head over the floor and millions of tiny particles flew out of his brow locks. He then began to take his shirt off.

“What are you doing?” I asked, perplexed.

“There’s so much powdered sugar on my shirt, I have to get it off,” He replied.

“Well not in here, it’s not sanitary.” I said pulling the edge of his shirt back down over his gorgeous stomach.

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” He said, smiling at me as he pulled the rest of it off.

When he brought his elbow back he hit the spice rack and something fell to the ground with a thud. A small brown cloud now merged with the white one.

“Now look what you’ve done,” I said, as I leaned down to pick up his latest mess.

It was a bottle of cinnamon. I dusted it off and laughed to myself. Cinnamon Sugar is what I called him when I talked to my friend Lydia. It’s because he used to be so sweet like sugar, but he was tan and kind of spicy like cinnamon too. Once I had placed it back on the shelf I turned around to see him standing there trying to shake out the residual sugar from his shirt. I finished sweeping the floor and saw that he had failed to get the majority of the sugar out of the fabric.

“Got any ideas on how to get this out?” He asked me.


“Nope.” I said and I started to undo my apron.

“Here” I said, and I handed it to him.

“What’s this for?” He asked, his eyebrow still covered in powdered sugar.

“If you think I’m letting you take that messy shirt, back into the kitchen I have to clean, then you’re crazy.” I said

He put the apron on and then said to me “what do you think? Is it a good look for me?”

“I could do with a little less powder, but yeah, not bad,” I replied coyly.

I then walked back out into the kitchen, him following in my footsteps. I opened the package of frosting and put it into my new mixing bowl.

“Would you mind washing these for me?” I asked him, pointing him towards the dirty dishes I had made during my earlier baking.

“No prob.” He said and he took them over to our dish area.

I put the sugar in and then added the milk and the butter. I decided to hand mix the frosting as well. There was no use in dirtying a mixer for something I could easily do on my own. I picked up the vanilla and added a splash, just as Lydia and Caroline walked into the kitchen.

“What are you making?” Lydia asked, pushing her short blonde hair out of her eyes.

“Lemon meringue cupcakes,” I said emphasizing each word so she would get the hidden meaning.




“Ohh and do those cupcakes happen to be for anyone in particular?” She asked, smiling at me.

I moved my eyes quickly to him and then moved them back to her, winking after I did so. She leaned in closer to me and I could smell her rosy perfume as she did.

“Would you like some privacy?” Lydia asked me, giving me a look that meant she knew I was up to something.



I nodded and then returned to my frosting.

“Hey Caroline, let’s leave them to their baking.” Lydia said.

“No, but I want to hang out and bake with them.” Caroline replied. She had bubbles in her long brown hair and I can only assume that was his doing.

“Yeah, but I need your help with that paper.” Lydia responded

With that the both headed out of the kitchen. When they got to the doorway Lydia turned to back to me and mouthed “Good Luck.” I mouthed back “Thank you” and then went back to my stirring. A few seconds later the timer went off.

“Would you grab me some oven mitts?” I called over to him as I went to turn off the timer.

He threw me a pair and I took each of the trays out of the oven. I then obtained a fork and started prying each of the cupcakes out of the tin and trying not to burn myself. He walked over to the fan that was running in the kitchen and lifted the apron so that he could cool of his stomach. It was admittedly very hot in the kitchen. Once I had all the cupcakes onto a circular tray and went over and joined him.

“It’s hella hot in here.” He said to me.

“Yeah, I noticed.” I said, taking in the beautiful image of his sweaty chest in front of the fan.

Once I had gotten my fill of cool air, I went and got a knife. Then I returned to the cupcakes. I dipped my knife into the frosting and began to spread the white mixture on top of the top of one of the cupcakes. I repeated this process several times, placing the frosted cupcakes onto a white dinner plate. He came over to me and dipped a finger into the frosting.

“Mhmm this is really good.” He said going for another fingers worth.

“Here’s a spoon.” I said, swatting his hand away.

“How did you know that I would need a spoon?” He asked giving me his adorable smile.

“I know you, and I knew you would like this.” I said.

“Yeah, do I get to know the surprise yet?”

“Uhm yeah, taste this.” I said, handing him one of the frosted cupcakes.

He chewed it for a while and said “it kind of tastes like lemon meringue pie.”

“That was the plan.” I said with a nervous smile.

He put the cupcake down immediately.

“You’re pathetic.” He said shaking his head at me.

“Excuse me?” I said, putting down the frosting knife.

“You think you can just make me cupcakes and bat your eyes and that then I’ll fall in love with you.” He said in an exasperated voice.

“What would make you think that these cupcakes were for you?” I said, my voice starting to sound defensive.

“You know that lemon meringue is my favorite pie, are you trying to tell me this is a coincidence.” He said glaring at me.

“No, but are you really yelling at me for trying to make you cupcakes?” I replied

He turned and picked up his still sugar covered shirt.

“No, I’m yelling at you because you are trying to manipulate me into falling in love with you.” He said.

“Ok. You’ve made your point. I think you should go.” I said, my face was starting to heat up and I could feel tears coming on.

“No, I need you to understand that I don’t love you. I never did love you, I never will love you, in fact I probably will never care strongly about you at all.” He said as he took off his apron.

“Ok, now will you leave?” I said my throat catching as I did so. I went back to frosting cupcakes as a way to hide from the emotions I was feeling.

“No, I need you to tell me you’re not going to pull this s*** anymore.” He said

“You need to leave now, or so help me.” I said, on the brink of tears.

“Not until you promise me.” He said starting to walk towards me.

“Go to hell.” I screamed at him.

I had hit my emotional breaking point and before I even knew what I was doing I had thrown the cupcakes I was frosting at him. It hit him right on the collarbone and then fell flat to the floor, leaving a circle of white frosting on his body. He opened his mouth to speak again and my eyes widened. I grabbed another cupcake and held it up in the air, threateningly. He decided that it was probably in his best interest to leave and as he walked out the kitchen door I screamed at him “I hope you liked your cupcake!”

I then fell to the floor, being unable to hold in my tears any longer. I sat there for a moment, gasping for breath between long sobs. After what felt like hours I got back up, and tried to regain my composure. I went to the back, and got a washrag. I then returned to the spot where the cupcake had landed. As I leaned down to pick up the crumbs it had left behind, a single silent tear ran down my cheek.