Cupcake Kisses

Thanks to my sister for the awesome cover! 

I could hear the loud buzz of people outside, chattering, laughing, drinking, having the time of their life, and what was I doing? Adding another batch of vanilla chocolate chip cupcakes in the oven. The sheer heat coming out of it hit me like a fire breathing dragon, but the aroma from the bake goods in the store, encircles me, enveloping my clothes and hair in a forever deliciously sweet scent.  I hear the little bell above the door tinker, letting me know a customer had just walked in.

Dusting off the excess flour that had somehow manage to get on my clothes, I straighten up my apron which had the slogan ‘Keep calm and eat a cupcake, cupcake.’ And I make my way to the front of the store. Honestly out of all the creative things my dear mother could come up with, this is the one she chooses to stick with? The amount of times creepy, old men leered at me because of it was too many to count. I personally liked the first one she came up with...it...was more appropriate. ‘We bake you take.’

As I stand at the counter I notice the amount of drunken teenagers parading down the darkened street with only small street lights to guide them. Their arms enveloped around each other’s necks or waist. I watch them worriedly, hoping they make it home safely.

“Hello, welcome to create a cupcake. What would you like?” I say with the brightest smile I can conjure at eleven pm. I was currently manning the store alone on New Year’s Eve since my aunt, Zelda, went into labour a few hours ago.

I knew how badly my mum wanted to be with her when the special moment arose so I told her I could watch over the store until she got back, plus my brother, Alex said he would leave his party early so he can help me out.

The cool thing about our store is that we customise to the customers’ needs. We bake plain cupcakes and leave the frosting, decorations and toppings all up to them. Sometimes it gets a little tricky on the busier days. I quickly jot down his order in my mind and pack his cupcake in a cute little box with a bow on top.

“Thank you...” The old man peers at my name tag and a sweet smile comes over his face.

“A.J” I supply for him. He nods promptly.

“My wife will love it.” I can’t help the smile that blooms on my own face. That is sweet.

“Come again.” I say as he leaves the store. I know it’s a little strange for people when they see our stores open this late, but it’s only on New Year’s Eve. My mum says she does it because she loves the rush of happiness she gets when she bakes a cupcake at the beginning of a new year and how happy it makes people when they are hungry and no other stores are open. I think she’s nuts.

I plug my headphones in my ear since the streets have cleared and there seems to be no potential customers at the moment.

Wiping the counter with a soft cloth, I spray disinfectant multiple times. The pungent, sterile smell makes my nose crinkle. I grab a broom from the supply closet and start sweeping the floors, singing Taylor Swift lyrics at the top of my lungs. I probably sound like a dying cat. Pretending the broom was a mic I flail my arms around and contort my face to suit the mood of the lyric.