Stressed Spelled Backwards |Lesbian Story|

Chapter 15

Clarice's kiss haunted me all night. I had the same questions orbited around my head. Did it mean she liked me? And since when?

So if she, indeed, liked me, then what? What about Karmen and Elise? Was she going to add my name to her long list of girlfriends?

The thought sent a rush of anger through me like a hot wind from the Sahara desert. She couldn't just go around kissing and dating people as she pleased. Who does she think she is?

Clarice didn't love me. She just wanted to play me like those two dummies I called my best friends. I was the smartest one who didn't fall right into her trap.

But what if she genuinely felt something for me? I had to think of the other complicated things that would blow up in my face if one of my roomies found out.

No, I couldn't let them know. What happened in the walk-in freezer, stays in the walk-in freezer.

Case closed.

As the week progressed, I continued my own career as the new Celie. It had kept me pretty busy.

On Monday morning, the man from the paper goods company just stared at me when I handed over the money for our napkin shipment.

"You mean that's it?" he said with a raised bushy brow.

I shrugged. "What else is there?"

"Celie usually screams and cries and calls me a criminal, and tries to get out of paying the tax. Then she counts all the napkins and pulls out the ones that are creased. I used to hate stopping here."

"Oh," I breathed, feeling sorry for the man. "Well, I don't have the energy to verbally abuse anyone."

The meat man put it more succinctly. "I hope Celie never comes back."

The popularity of my Azra's Secrets continued to grow, and I was now going through a dozen boxes of cake mix and ice cream per day. My regulars ordered it all the time, and I was getting patrons from different buildings. A few customers just came to try my new dessert, the flavor everyone could remember but no one could identify.

This inspired me to develop a new variety of taste with new inventions and creative decoration. I loved every minute of doing it. I became so zen with the work that it made me forget about the kiss.

The blonde model hadn't shown up again since the locked-in incident. I didn't know what I would say if we met. So I was grateful for that.

I was making the famous Russian Napoleon cake. The recipe was a national dessert. It had to be made with up to twelve layers of dough filled with a creamy custard creme. Imagine folding your twelve shirts on top of each other. A bit time-consuming to make but, oh, the rewards of a soul-satisfying dessert was so worth it.

The cake came out soft like clouds and moist and delicious-looking. I forgot something I needed for the final product and had to run up to our apartment to get. But when I got down again, I found the blonde model in the deli.

Except, she wasn't alone. Karmen and Elise were with her, but they weren't my normal best friends anymore. They were two furious Amazon warriors, squaring off each other, pointing spoons and forks as their choice of weapons.

Clarice was running in circles around them, trying to make peace between the two girls. I had no idea why she didn't just pacify each one with a Karate chop. I mean, she was secretly a UFC fighter after all.

Not before I put my cake away from all dangers and tied my pink apron on securely that I jumped in to separate them.

"Stop! Stop!" I said. "You'll put someone's eye out!"