The Sprinkles To My Cupcake

The Sprinkles To My Cupcake

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Thu, Oct 9, 2014
Our life, can it resemble a cupcake ? We were born a plain cupcake. Some are vanilla, some chocolate, some strawberry, and sone banana. We are all yummy, but to different people and different tastes. As we grow older, we start growing whipped cream. Some have so much whipped cream, that the cupcake underneath doesn't show. Those are our elders. But, we meet other cupcakes, other people. They shape, change , and mould us into the way we are now. The other cupcakes have a magnificent role to play in what your cupcake looks like. The other cupcakes are present on yours as sprinkles. Multicoloured and beautiful they make you. But some cupcakes leave a bad sprinkle, a black one. But dont worry, another sprinkle can cover up. Sadly some cupcakes have very few sprinkles, and some even have none. Oh those lonely cupcakes, I wish I could encounter one. I'd add at least a sprinkle to it's growing whip. This book is to honour my sprinkles,and how they helped shape my cupcake.
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Stephanie Walker - straight-A student, sweet, pretty, and every parent's dream. Her life is perfectly planned out... until her senior year trip throws her into the chaotic orbit of the school's golden boy. Now her final year in high school isn't looking so simple. "Don't let me catch you, cupcake," his voice boomed from downstairs, and I took off running. I ducked behind a pole, heart racing, trying to calm my nerves. Way to go, Stephanie, my subconscious snarked. His footsteps echoed closer. "Where are you, cupcake?" he called out playfully. Like I'd actually tell you, I thought, holding my breath. Silence. Then, warm fingers snaked around my waist, and I didn't need to turn to know it was him. "Found you," he whispered in my ear, and a shiver zipped down my spine. "How?" I breathed, turning to face him. His smirk told me he knew exactly what he was doing to me. Get it together, fool, I mentally scolded myself. "Want the sugarcoated version or the truth?" he teased. I raised a brow at him. "I could smell you from a mile away," he whispered, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. Butterflies. So many freaking butterflies. "That was the sugarcoated version," he added with a grin. I blinked, narrowing my eyes. "The pole didn't hide you well. Your cardigan was sticking out," he shrugged. And then came the smirk. "Now, time for my revenge." I barely had time to process before something soft and powdery rained down on me. I wiped my face. Flour. He did not just dump flour on me even if I started it. Mature, much? I thought bitterly. Poker face on. "Real mature," I said, brushing past him with fake annoyance. Time to activate drama mode. "Come on, babe, you can't be mad..." he called after me. This book is everything. You NEED to read this.

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