Excerpt from the Short Story - The Cupcake Incident
After
an awkward, but warm meeting with Chiara’s mom and brother, Peter and Chiara
made their way to the kitchen to start their extra credit project.
He was impressed – though not surprised – to find everything
laid out in an organized fashion.
“Wow,” he said. “You like to bake?”
“Well, yeah,” she answered with a shrug. “It’s such a simple
way to make people happy. And this recipe is especially good for that.” She
held her nose high. “It’s been passed down through the family for generations,
perfected by my Great Aunt Johanna – God rest her soul. It’s guaranteed to
bring sunshine and happiness to all who eat it,” she declared dramatically.
He flashed a sideways grin. “You have a lot of those, huh?”
“Of what?” she asked.
“Family recipes, handed down for generations?”
“Oh,” she considered it. “I guess we do. Tradition is
important to us Marinos. And anyway, once you eat the cupcakes, you’ll totally
see why.”
They set to work making the cupcakes and Peter had to
concentrate to keep from paying too much attention to Chiara – studying her
smile, her laugh, the way she mumbled to herself when she was in deep
concentration.
Despite his efforts, he got just as distracted and clumsy as
he usually did in Chemistry class. Eggs were dropped, flour was spilled, and
batter was splattered, but at least, in this setting, their lives were not in
danger.
“Should we start cleaning up?” he asked when the cupcakes
were completed and their observations were recorded.
She waved her hand in the air. “No, no. No, no, no. I’ll
take care of it after you leave.”
“No way,” he argued. “I can’t help make the mess and then
not help clean it up. That would be bad karma.”
“Well, if it’s about karma,” she conceded with a smile,
“then I guess I have to let you help.”
“Speaking of karma,” he said as he handed her the container
of flour, “Mac said something about you guys doing a lot of – what did she call
them? – sneaky acts of sunshine.”
Chiara placed the flour and sugar containers in the pantry
as she said, “She was just exaggerating. We don’t do that much.”
When she turned back around, he noticed a smudge of flour on
the tip of her nose and became fixated on it. He had to check the impulse to
reach over and wipe it away. His hand even lifted slightly before he stopped
himself.
He shook his head and cleared his throat.
“It’s just that I’ve been looking for stuff to do,” he said
as he collected the measuring cups and spoons and placed them in the sink.
“Back in Eastville, I used to do a lot of community service and stuff, but I
don’t know what all there is to do here.”
She spun to face him with a light in her eyes.
“Oh! There’s tons,” she said. “They always need help at the
food bank. There’s a children’s home and a women’s shelter in town. They need
donations and help sorting. And I do a lot with my church, but that’s probably
not for you. There’s also an organization that cleans up parks and a homeless
ministry...”
Peter lost himself studying her. Her enthusiasm and
compassion were a breath of fresh air. And her smile was seriously lighting up
the kitchen.
“See, I started doing service back in seventh grade because
it’s a requirement for our Sacrament of Confirmation: you have to complete a
certain number of hours helping other people. And I got kind of addicted to
it.”
Peter thought it was funny that she had said she didn’t do
much, but she clearly did more than most people. She must have noticed his
stare and his smirk, because she trailed off, seeming less than confident.
“Sorry,” she said in a softer tone. “I get a little
overzealous. I’m probably boring you.”
“Not at all,” he said sincerely.
But she was silent as they started dishes. Peter tried to
think of a way to convince her that she had no reason to worry.
He wanted to put her at ease, but all he could think to say
was:
You’re
amazing.
And he couldn’t say that. Not yet.
Or ever, maybe.
“Sorry about all the nonsense,” she said, interrupting his
thoughts.
“What nonsense?” he asked.
She handed him the dish she had just finished washing as she
said, “Just my embarrassing family.”
He distinctly remembered the incredibly mortifying story his mom had told his former girlfriend
when she had visited his house.
“Trust me,” he said, “they weren’t embarrassing. And your
family is just as nice as you are.”
Chiara regarded him for a moment. “You are so different,”
she said.
He looked at her with squinted eyes. “Is that bad or good?”
“Good,” she told him. “You always seem so calm and honest
and nonjudgmental. It’s very refreshing.”
“Likewise,” he said, meeting her eyes and finding himself
stuck as if he were under a spell. “I’m glad I met someone as cool as you.”
She laughed. A lighthearted sound that hit him like a warm
breeze, relaxing him instantly.
“No one has ever used that word to describe me,” she said.
He was impressed by her humility, but he couldn’t understand
how she didn’t see how amazing she was.
“Everyone has a different definition of ‘cool,’” he said,
trying to focus on drying instead of the flour smudge that still resided on her
nose. “One person uses it for someone who puts other people down, or writes
depressing songs, or wears expensive clothes. And I’m using it for someone who
spreads positivity everywhere she goes.”
Chiara stilled and stared at him.
He felt the awkwardness settle on his shoulders like a heavy
blanket.
Aw geez, why
did I say that? Was that too obvious? What am I saying? Of course it was too
obvious.
“Hold up. That was weird, wasn’t it?” he asked, trying to
play it off as normal.
“No, no. No, no, no,” she said with a shake of her head.
“You call it honest, but I think it’s just that I’m socially
awkward.”
She laughed. “You, too? You wouldn’t be friends with me if
you weren’t. I tend to attract people who are sincere but awkward.”
He became distracted once again by the flour on her nose. It
was strange how it made her somehow even more attractive. He forced himself to
focus on the dishes before he could embarrass himself. Again.
But he found that he had more control over his eyes than he
did his mouth.
“You definitely attracted me,” he commented absent-mindedly.
Then he snapped his head up and added, “Uh, I mean friend-attracted, not attracted-attracted.”
He nearly groaned. This was not going the way he wanted it
to go. If he continued making mistakes like this, she would realize just how
socially awkward he really was.
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