Best Enemies

Hanna

Nutmeg's face is priceless. Firstly it has the look of "Oh My God how do you time and effort to do that masterpiece" also the look of "Why the hell did you do this?" And a mix of "WHAT! For me!!" Her eyes started to fill with tears and she crushed me in an extremely tight hug. I was gasping for breath as I squeaked
 "So."
 Deep breath
 "Do you like it?" She pushed me to arm's length.
 "Of course I do, Hanna this is so beautiful. How did you do it?!" She laughs and I sigh with relief.

We cut the cake and heave a generous amount onto our paper plates. Every bite Nutmeg lets out a loud groan so often I have to wack her with a pillow. The cake is filled with moisture and the spices add an heavenly aroma to the atmosphere that smells so good that I want to bottle it up forever. I give Nutmeg one more hug and we collapse in a tired, hazy mess on the floor. 

 After a few minutes of talking Nutmeg goes silent and I tilt my head over. She is asleep on the floor with dust in her hair and smudged eye make-up. Anyone else would think that she would be terrifying but I see the soft, delicate site to Nutmeg. I tilt her head up, trying not to wake her, and push a pillow under her dark locks. I throw a soft blanket over her and creep out of the room to let her sleep.

 I sneak along the corridor to my room and tuck the remainders of the cake securely under the bed. I climb into bed and start to write in my journal.

I barely get to a sentence before Rubi barges in, face streaked with bruises, tears and dirt, and stumbles over to my bed and collapses beside me. I am shocked in what I am seeing. Rubi Kingsley isn't perfect. I want to know the story. And I am sure she will tell me.