Cupcake A Day

Chapter Three:

authors note:
okay I am so sorry, I have been itching too get back to writing but I have been overloaded with homework... but it's the weekend and my goal is two chapters! this one is short, but the ending I really like.
xoxo,
@k_b5239

"Graceful I need a pickup!" I say into my phone, which is on speaker on the counter. I am frantically putting cupcakes in boxes. "I have so much to tell you!"

"Wattpad worthy?" She asks, her voice crackling with the weird reception. I can hear her eagerness.

"Yes!" I say excited and frantic. I lick the bit of frosting of my finger.

"Turning on to Comly Ave."

"Be down in five."

"Bye Austy."

"Bye Graceful."

I hang up, and collect myself. Not only did I have the best dream about Micheal and I, but I will make at least $100 dollars today! It doesn't seem like a lot, compared to how much my dad has, but it's nice earning my own money.

I spin around in a red silky ball gown, my blond curls bouncing on my shoulders. My red painted nails, interlock with Micheal's hand. My mothers necklace shinning brightly. He leads me outside in his tux which fits perfectly. I pick up the front of my dress, showing my white pumps. He stops me in the middle of the courtyard, under all the stars. His deep blue eyes, look right at me assuring that he does like me. He tucks in a curl behind my ear, taking the opportunity to sneak his hands behind my back and interlock his fingers around my waist. I smile, and reach up around his neck pulling myself closer. He tightens his grip, pulling us closer to one another. Until I can't help myself. We lean in and it's pure bliss. His soft, feathery lips plant on mine in a deep loving kiss. We break away and it's suddenly like it isn't just me against the world.

Jeez, I really like him.

__________

"Thanks for buying my Cupcake of The Day, stay posted for tomorrow's cupcake!" Another happy sale, I dart over to my locker and dump another empty tupperware away. A small piece of paper flutters to the ground.

"Are you down for a post game party?"

-@soccer_m

I smile to myself, and pull out my phone.

me: are you down for some company at your post game party?

Micheal: only if it's you ;)

Is he flirting with me? Maybe it's not a flirty wink just a regular one...

me: meet you after the game by the bleachers

I stare at my phone intensely, blurring out the students passing me to get to class.

oh no, he hasn't texted back. he probably got fed up with me. we are just friends anyways, I should quit now. ugh.

Micheal: see you then

okay. hold it together.

__________

"Hey Graceful?" I whisper in class causing her to flip her chocolate curls, which are up in a cheerleader ponytail.

"Oui Madame?" She asks in her awful French accent.

"Do you have room for a soccer game on your schedule?" I ask, trying to hold a straight face.

"I will." She says with a devilish grin. "If it involves skipping French." I roll my eyes.

"Nope. I guess I will go and chose my own outfits for my first hang out with Micheal all by myself." I stick out my bottom lip and pout.

She groans, "why does education always win with you?"

"I will give you an extra cupcake." I bargain.

"Deal!" She straightens and shakes my hand. "Pleasure doing business Mademoiselle Austyn."

"Same to you Mademoiselle Graceful."

__________

I run up the flights of stairs, with Graceful on my tail.

"Must. Choose. Sexy. Clothes." She pants, keeping up with me.

"What on Earth do you think we will do at the party?" I say, pausing, and laughing.

"Bad things." She winks. I laugh, and then she joins in. "Can this go on my Wattpad story?"

"Um sure!" I respond, flipping my hair and starting to run again. We burst into my apartment, and run to the bathroom.

"Wash your face, I will pick out clothes." I grab my face wash and lather it on, rubbing all over my skin the creamy pink wash. I breath in and out. It's all surreal. I rinse my face, and splash water on it. I spin out of my bedroom to find Graceful picking through my closet. She had free range of it months ago, but I still find it funny. "How comfortable are you with letting me chose whatever?"

"I'm fine.." I say, pausing, running over my answer, rubbing my fingers on a fabric on a patterned skirt.

"Good. It's getting warmer out." She says fanning herself dramatically.

"I am glad, I am all done with this chilly spring stuff."

"Do you want to wear an off the shoulder top? Kick off spring?" She says, handing me a short flowy polka dot black skirt, my favorite ones that have pockets, and a fitted and cropped black off the shoulder top. I go over to my shoes and pick out brown boots and black tights, and hold them up for Graceful's confirmation. She nods her head, then turns her attention to my hair. "Curls?" I nod, she starts twisting hair around the wand and we start talking. "How was your day?" I ask.

"Okay." She looks quickly to the side.

"How was it really?"

"Bad. I can't seem to focus much these days, I feel like you have been swept up in cupcakes-"

"And Micheal." I interrupt.

"And Micheal." She smiles. "I just have the weirdest feeling you are going to leave me."

I gulp. My Food Network Star application has not come back yet, even if it does, it's almost "Bomb Month." Bomb Month is when my Dad drops another bomb on my life and announces our next destination. Then it's packing  and saying goodbye, then moving unpacking and starting all over. The one difference with this one is it may be forever. My dad promised me a full Senior year somewhere, and I always wanted it to be NY, but like always I want to stay here.

"I am sorry I have been swept up lately, it's too much going on at once." I say looking at my clasped hands. "Graceful can you grab me my laptop?" She stops doing my makeup and reaches over to grab my macbook pro. I quickly get into my email and refresh it. My stomach had a knot in it, I can feel it. It will be there. My fingers are tingling, and I curl them and uncurl them.

"To: austynthomas@gmail.com

From: Food Network Star Applications"

Oh my gosh.

And the first word in that email? That is the one that just shaped my future.