Devil's Food Cake [✓]

3 | peanut butter cupcake

As I rearranged the cupcakes, I began to talk to the food as I sometimes did when I was particularly upbeat.

When I was a little girl, I'd had acquired this quirky habit of talking to inanimate objects, including food. I guess you'd say that was pretty weird, but my parents had found it adorable.

My dad, realising that I had a wild imagination, had used this to his advantage by making up stories about the fruit and vegetables on my plate to make sure I ate them. It sounded twisted for me to be a food killer when seconds before I'd been happily listening to Mr Barry Banana tell me his life story. My dad told wild stories and my mum had to restrain his enthusiasm from getting too risqué...

There was a particularly sad looking cupcake, whose icing had gotten slightly flattened, and I was trying my best to hide its defects with some berries, so it wouldn't look so pathetic.

'There, there, Baby Cupcake. You may be a fugly duckling now, but I'm sure whoever buys you will love you...' I reassured.

'What a touching display. Almost brought a tear to my eye.' I heard a clapping sound, looked up, and rolled my eyes when I saw who it was. Still, there was a flush of heat that travelled through me once I spotted him.

'Good morning,' I said, heading over to him, trying not to be embarrassed over the fact that he'd caught me talking to an item of food. 'Is it your usual then?'

Grumpy's lips were twitching as though he'd just watched me fall on a banana skin, but when he heard my question, he raised an eyebrow.

I repeated the question impatiently.

'I'll have an espresso. Double shot,' he said slowly, as though I was stupid.

'Exactly, your usual,' I stared at him, not comprehending his sudden change of mood. I'd never come across someone who had the amount of mood swings he had.

Maybe he was socially inept.

'How is a single shot the same a double shot?' He was still speaking to me as if I was mentally challenged. 'But I guess in your strange world, coffee means smoothie too.'

I bit my lip at his reminder of my past mistake. It was a sad guy indeed who felt the need to bring up petty little things that didn't matter in the moment.

'You're right. My bad. Espresso - double shot'—I emphasised the word 'shot', gaining some satisfaction from seeing his lips part as he stared at my mouth—'coming right up.'

As I busied myself preparing his double espresso, my mind drifted to the movie I'd watched last night with my best friend Louisa. We'd been split between a romantic comedy and a sci-fi flick. We had different tastes, but we'd sort of acclimatised to each other since we'd first met in Year seven. We'd shared a lot of memories and experiences that I wouldn't give up for the world. Despite Louisa's frustrations with me, I knew that I could trust her with my life.

When I turned around to face Grumpy, I saw his eyes scanning the cake wrack but apart from a vague sense of curiosity about his new found interest in our cakes, I brushed it aside.

'Here's your double espresso. That'll be—' I said, entering the figure on the till.

'Aren't you going to ask if I want anything with my drink?' he interrupted me, hand digging into his coat pocket to find his wallet.

When I didn't speak, he looked up at me expectantly, eyebrows raised. 'Well, go on say the words, Candice...'

That stumped me: his usage of my name. I smiled uncertainly. 'Will you be having anything with your coffee, sir?'

'I was going to ask you for something.' He paused, a crafty smile touching his lips. 'But I don't think it's up for sale here...' He looked straight at me and I was ashamed to say it, but I was mesmerised by his clear blue eyes.

Sometimes stormy. Sometimes mysterious. Always expressive.

He blinked and pointed at the cupcakes. 'Give me the messed up looking one.'

'What?'

'The one you were speaking to. I want that one. Is there a problem?' He smiled sardonically.

My heart fell as I stared at Mini Cupcake. Huh? This was not the customer I expected to purchase him; I shook my head before I could make a fool of myself my protesting that he should be the one to have such a special little cupcake - I was always fond of the underdogs.

'Not at all,' I sighed, taking out the prongs so I could place it on a plate for him. Mini Cupcake was crying on the plate at having to end up with such a moody guy, who I still didn't know anything about, much less his name, which reminded me...

'What is your name?' I said, handing him the plate and accepting his cash, while he started to peel off the lilac Cupcake case. 'Take good care of Baby,' I added.

Grumpy stopped as he was about to take the first bite, to look over at me as if to say, 'You're utterly crazy'. Which I was, I suppose...

'Oh, this cupcake—what flavour is it, anyway?'

'Peanut butter,' I provided.

He seemed to consider my response as if deliberating whether he enjoyed that particular flavour before nodding. 'I wanted Candy, but I'll be content with torturing this instead.' He winked, taking a big bite that got the icing all over his lips.

I giggled despite the lameness of his joke.

When Grumpy left, he threw a name over his shoulder, 'Zachary Malone.'

My mouth seemed to caress the bittersweet syllables.

Zachary. That was his name.