"You're supposed to only fill it up halfway," I said with exasperation as Everett filled yet another cupcake liner up to the brim.
"Excuse me, Clementine, but I don't cheat my customers with too-little cupcakes."
"It rises in the oven, it's going to spill all over!" I glared at him. "And that's way too much ganache, there's more ganache than cake."
"There's no such thing as too much ganache," he insisted, spooning in some more.
"You need it to be inside the cupcake, not have the whole cupcake made of it," I argued, "Just let me do it."
I reached for the spoon and he pulled back quickly, hitting himself on the face. A splodge of chocolate adorned his tiny nose. I giggled as his eyes widened in surprise.
"You laugh, Clementine, but I have the most decadent dessert a mere inch away from my reach."
Everett stuck out his tongue and tried to reach it. He failed and blew out his cheeks in frustration as I let out another chuckle.
"It's not that easy...you try!" He exclaimed, prodding my cheek with the ganache covered spoon.
"Hey!" I objected.
Everett snickered and ducked as I reached for him, skating away to the other side of the counter. I grabbed him by the waist before he could escape, wrestling the chocolatey weapon out of his grasp.
I don't quite know how it happened—he tried to move before I could retaliate, and I tried to stop him—but suddenly we were standing chest to chest, foreheads almost touching.
Everett was pinned up against the oven, his hands on my chest. His breathing was ragged, warm against my face. His lips were parted, inches away.
And his hair was a mess.
The air around us buzzed with electricity, the space between us begging to be closed. His lids were half shut, lashes making an arc on his cheek. Dark eyes locked on mine, making dreamy promises of a billion stars.
I almost leaned in.
And perhaps I would've kissed him if I weren't always so afraid of everything.
But instead I drew back, moving to fill the last tray with cupcake batter. As if I hadn't almost pushed my hands through his curly hair and pressed my lips against his.
As if I didn't still want to.
Everett silently helped me finish up and put it in the oven. He looked a little dazed, uncharacteristically quiet. He chewed on his bottom lip, turning it distractingly pink.
"That was really awkward earlier," he suddenly burst out, "I'm sorry."
I realized then that I had been an idiot.
"You didn't—" I cleared my throat. "It's fine."
"We're pretty much done now except for the fondant." He shifted his weight awkwardly, rocking on his feet. "You can go home if you need to."
The last thing I wanted was to leave.
"And allow you to ruin all these cupcakes with your terrible decorating skills?" I asked instead, trying to break the tension.
Everett burst out laughing, looking relieved. "God, I was scared you were gonna actually go and leave me to it," he joked, "We still have to ice all these...and I'm a mess with the piping bag."
"I can imagine," I said with sincerity. The thought of him trying to ice in a spiral almost made me shudder.
"Okay okay I get it, you're a total artistic pro and the rest of us peasants cannot even hope to compare," Everett teased.
"Pfft, plebeians the lot of you." I paused and then added, "I was looking forward to the decorating part anyway."
Everett smiled so bright that it eclipsed the sun. His slight overbite was pressing into his bottom lip in a way I found adorable now. It was infectious; I soon felt myself smiling too.
We made the fondant while the cupcakes baked in the oven. I had finally managed to convince Everett that we wouldn't have enough batter for a hundred if he filled it too much. He only agreed, I think, because he was worried he wouldn't be able to make any extra for himself.
It was so relaxed now, as we joked and laughed, that I wondered whether I had perhaps just imagined all the tension earlier.
The oven timer went off and Everett opened it. I hurriedly shoved him aside before he could reach in with a toothpick.
"Get an oven mitt!"
"I wasn't going to touch the hot part, I'm not an idiot." He sounded offended. "I'm just gonna poke it a little."
"It's still better to be safe," I said, "And we'll anyway have to take the tray out now."
I found a mitt and removed the tray, placing it on the countertop. Everett stabbed it unnecessarily violently with a toothpick, messing up the shape as he pulled it out at an angle.
"Woah it's perfectly done!" he exclaimed, "In like the exact amount of time the recipe said. You genius, Clementine, you."
"Why, thank you." I grinned, doing a little bow as I got us each a piping bag.
Everett started squeezing horrible little lumps on top of the cupcakes. He had already finished five before I could say anything.
"Those are nice," he said, peering over my shoulder at the first cupcake I was still working on, "Mine all look like squirrel poop."
I laughed at the fitting description. They actually did, now that I come to think of it.
"You've got to take your time and make the spiral," I said, "Change the pressure on the piping bag slowly, according to the shape."
Everett looked like he was trying really hard to concentrate on icing the next cupcake. The tip of his tongue even peeked out of the corner of his pouty lips.
What he created still ended up looking like a mound of dirt, unfortunately.
"It's okay for some of them to look ugly," he defended as soon as he saw me staring at it, "Not everything in life can be perfect all the time Clementine."
"But it's for an order."
Everett huffed. "Fine. We can just eat all the ugly ones."
"But then you'll just make everything ugly on purpose."
"You know me so well," he admitted, matching my grin.
Everett made more colours of fondant while I iced the rest of the cupcakes. I couldn't stop staring at him while he experimented with molding out some decorations.
The flowers he made looked like lumps of coloured crap. The rainbow deco he tried out all congealed into a colour that resembled barf.
His face and T-shirt both gradually got messier and messier. He seemed to have a new colour of fondant on his cheeks every time I glanced at him.
And I was glancing at him a lot.
Everett made a lumpy looking toadstool and held it up with a dazzling beam. My heart flipped a frightening number of times, beating so hard that I was afraid he would hear it.
But it's not like he realizes what that smile does to me. I don't think he even noticed. Perhaps I had wanted to kiss him earlier, but it's not like that meant anything. It's not like we were dating.
It's not like I was in love with him.
Like if you think Clementine totally IS in love xP
Comment whether your decorating skills are closer to Clem's or on par with Everett's lumpy flowers :p
I made this picrew of Everett with fondant on his face :)
also I imagine he likes frogs c:
________
Reading lots of onc books? You might enjoy this story by AJ_Ortega
A lonely boy named Angelio encounters a gateway in the forest to the enchanted world of Realania; there, he's promised a solution to his problem in the human world--but all is not what it seems.