The Devil Likes Lemon Cupcakes

The Devil And Misinterpretation

Although Gaja and Lena’s personalities varied, I was often the glue that kept the gang together.

“First of all,” Gaja cocked a brow at Lena. “stop calling sex – you know what. Second of all, I have had it with you saying that you respect your body just because you don’t get stuffed like a turkey. You’re basically calling anyone that has premarital sex, a slut.”

Red struck Lena’s pale cheeks. I knew this was going to get ugly if I don’t say something mediator-like soon.

“Gaja, stop saying the s word, you know she doesn’t like that,” I mimicked towards Lena. “and you, stop calling everybody a slut. Just because you’re doing it, doesn’t mean you don’t respect your body.”

Gaja gripped a strain of escaped hair, and tickled her nose. A gesture she often used to calm herself down. “Grow up, you big albino baby.” She muttered the words which almost cost us a peaceful afternoon.

The more I thought about my first wish, the more I realized how preposterous this whole deal was. For fuck’s sake, I was getting wishes granted by the Devil! First chance I will get, I’ll go to the library and search how to get rid of this demonic pact. Online of course, no one uses books for research material anymore.

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“What’s up with you,” Gaja took a huge bite of her pizza. “you look like a constipated vampire.”

“I hate to agree with her, but you really do.” Lena touched her piece lightly with a paper napkin, to dab all the extra grease off.

I shook my head. “It’s nothing,” that piece of cold pizza was glaring at me, but I could not bring myself to eat anything. Stomach-twisting events were just too much for me.

“Sis!” a strong male voice echoed from behind.

My brother had a figure of an athlete and manners of a poorly trained dog. He nibbled on chicken bones as long as there was some meat left, and there was of course, the occasional scratch of the nut sack, while watching television.  

“Jan,” I replied his hello.

He fixed his gaze on Gaja. “Ladies,” Jan greeted my friends with a cheesy voice.

One thing was fairly known, and I was quite sure Jan was aware of this fact, as well. Gaja had a tremendous crush on my brother. That was unfortunate; since my brother was a giant man-whore. I often expressed my opinion on using my friends, but that worked only to one limit. Jan still loved to play with them like a cat plays with its prey.

Gaja giggled and began tucking on that escaped hair-lock again.

“End of school party. 9 PM. Saturday.” Jan said.

“Full. Sentences.” I emphasized every word and touched the spongy mushroom.

“Excuse this asshole’s grammar,” a hand landed on Jan’s shoulder. Arijan was crowned with naturally curly, brown hair, which handsomely emphasized the green in his eyes. Sport jacket with a club logo reminded that they were in the same football team.

Often, I was woken by the high-pitched sound of games coming from my brother’s room. Jan and Arijan made it their privilege to commemorate a good party with 5 AM gaming and some Egyptian take-out. When we were children, Arijan got on my nerves, I thought he was stealing all Jan’s attention. But as we got older, Arijan acclaimed some very handsome face features, and he didn’t seem like a huge bother anymore. I even recall an embarrassing event when Arijan walked in our bathroom, while I was peeing. Never had I been more mortified.