Cupcake Kisses

Pushing my glasses back up my nose, I looked up from my book and glanced around the empty bakery. I was sat perched on the edge of a stool, behind the counter, 'working' my usual evening shift.

Cupcake Kisses, the bakery was called.

It was pretty well known in our small town, but then again in a small town like this I guess you could say that about everything. Southport was like every other beach town you've ever seen in the movies. Located right on the coast, practically overflowing with small, pastel colored, family owned shops and old people. Lots and lots of old people.

Plenty of sun too, as well as a picture perfect white sand beach.

"Ella!" Jess, my co-worker, called from the back.

"What time is it?"

I glanced at the cupcake shaped clock on the wall in front of me. "Almost seven!" I shouted back.

Mrs. Edwards, the owner of the bakery, had left over an hour ago instructing us to lock up. We were meant to close up at seven, but after six it was always deserted so it wasn't unusual for us to close a few minutes early. Other than Mrs. Edwards, we were the

only two workers and she regularly left us in charge,

unbeknownst to the early closures.

The bakery itself was nice, in a cute girly kind of way. The walls were all painted pastel pink and covered in photos of perfectly decorated cakes. It was big enough to fit in a few tables and booths too, where the customers would sit and chat as they enjoyed coffee and cakes. The front of the shop was my

favourite, it was made completely of glass, constantly streaming in sunlight.

"I cannot wait to be home," Jess said, sighing as she emerged from the back of the shop where we baked the cakes.

Her apron was, unfortunately, also pastel pink and splattered in icing sugar and flour.

Jess was two years older than me and worked here while she attended the community college. During the school year she would work in the morning, Mrs. Edwards would take over for the afternoon and I would be here after school. But since it was summer vacation, the last day to be exact, we were both here

together.

Jess made her way over to me and I immediately noticed the bags under her eyes and frowned, "If you want, I can close up for us? You should really head home you've been here since opening."

"Are you sure? It's only fifteen minutes, I don't mind staying!"

I nodded. "Exactly, only fifteen minutes. Doesn't matter if you leave early.

"Are you sure?" She asked again, still dubious.

"Yes! The sooner you leave the sooner I can dig into that icing in the fridge.

She chuckled. "It's for the customers, not for you, Ella."

"If I make it, I can eat it. Simple as," I shrugged.

"Now hurry up and go."

She rolled her eyes, but thanked me anyway.

"I appreciate it, kiddo."

Jess grabbed her stuff and rushed out the door, tossing a goodbye my way as she went.

The next fifteen minutes passed quickly and before I knew it I was putting my book down again to close up. With a tired sigh I slid off the stool, heading over to the front door and turning the sign so it read 'CLOSED' instead of 'OPEN' before beginning to

put the displayed cakes away.

As I packed I hummed a song to myself, feeling the need to fill the silence in the shop. However, just as my humming was about to reach the chorus of

Rihanna's 'Umbrella' it was cut off by the sound of a new voice, "I love that song!"

That voice definitely did not belong to Jess or Mrs. Edwards. I immediately spun around, my eyes wide in surprise, to find three teenage boys standing there staring at me.

"Sorry, don't let me interrupt!" One of them cried and I instantly blushed, as I realized they had all heard me. To make things even worse, I'd even been doing little head movements and hand gestures.

"You clearly scared her, Austin." A boy that looked almost identical to him said flatly and I blinked, returning my attention back to them. They were both twins and somehow looked strangely familiar.

Did they go to my school?

They were tall and blonde, with broad shoulders and twinkly blue eyes. I guess you could say they were attractive, in the classic surfer boy kind of way.

"Why are we even here, Chase?" The last boy asked, rolling his eyes.

When my gaze landed on him my cheeks went an even darker shade of red. I was both unable to respond and at the same time unable to look away from his structured face. He was slightly taller than the twins, about 6'2, with equally broad shoulders

and a muscular frame. His dark hair was ruffled, strands of it falling across his forehead to create a messy but deliberately so kind of look.

"Because I want my cake!" Chase, one of the twins, exclaimed.

"I... er, sorry," I mumbled, still embarrassed and taken aback by the third boy. "Cake closed."

"What?" Chase blinked at me.

I turned an even brighter shade of red as I realized what I had said. "Cupcake closed," I said, attempting to correct my mistake and failing.

"No I mean the bakery, the bakery is closed."

"But I want my cake," Chase said again, as if repeating it would suddenly make cake appear.

He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at the other two boys, "You guys promised me my cake!"

"She said the bakery is closed, get over it," Chase's twin, Austin I think his name was, declared and I instantly decided I liked him.

At least one of them was listening to me.

The brown haired one suddenly smiled and made his way over to me. "No, Austin," he said, "if Chase wants his cake, then he should have his cake."

I immediately decided that I did not like this one.

"So can you get us a cake or what?" He raised an eyebrow at me expectantly, folding his arms over his chest.

Up close, I noticed that his eyes were a dark shade of blue, with flecks of green. I'd never seen eyes like his before and I couldn't help but admire them for a few seconds, before I realized how stupid I must've looked.

"I can't, the bakery is closed," I insisted, shocked at the steadiness in my voice.

Wow.

Was I, Ella Smith, successfully standing my ground?

This was a miracle.

Okay wait, I can probably guess what you're thinking. You're thinking that this Ella girl must be some massive loser who gets bullied all the time and can't even form a proper sentence without stuttering.

Well, that's not (entirely) true.

I'm not particularly loser-y and I haven't ever really been bullied before, but I am a little on the socially awkward side. I don't talk to that many people, other than my small group of friends, and I tend to prefer the company of books, films and the internet rather than lots of real people.

I was simply not prepared for situations like this.

"Leave it," Austin mumbled, shaking his head at the dark haired boy.

He ignored Austin and instead took a step forward and narrowed his eyes at me. I immediately took a step back, the fear finally settling in.

Why had I stood up for myself? This guy looked like he could probably take me out with a rolling pin and not think twice about it.

"Relax Austin, I'm just scaring her a little." His smirk grew as he noticed my eyes widen in panic.

"I'm not scared," I mumbled, but the shakiness in my voice gave away the fact that I was actually incredibly scared.

I watched as he turned around and whispered something in Chase's ear, before taking something out of his pocket.

The next thing I knew, he had grabbed my arm, spun me around and was holding me against the wall. Something sharp pressed against the back of my neck and my eyes widened as I realised what it must be

A knife.

The guy had a freaking knife. I knew it. I knew I was going to die. My death will be a message for every socially awkward teen out there: if you stick up for yourself you will die.

I was definitely too young to die. I hadn't even had my first kiss yet, how could I die without having my first kiss? I hadn't even got my driving license. I hadn't even gone to Disneyland yet for God's sake, how could I possible die?

He leaned down a little, so he could whisper in my ear. The smell of his cologne wrapped around me, a warm woodsy smell which would've been pleasant if it hadn't been coming from a knife wielding maniac.

"Get Chase a cake now, and I won't sl*t your throat. Got it?" He said, his tone was cruel and mocking and I shuddered as his breath tickled my skin.

To my utter horror Chase and Austin both started laughing and all hope I had of survival went down the drain.

Even Austin, who I had thought was the nice one, was laughing at me.

What kind of monsters were these people?

"You can t-take that cake," I finally stuttered, pointing to one of the cakes on display.

It was a red birthday cake in the shape of a rocket that Jess and I had made a few hours ago, just for fun. As much as I disliked these three boys, I decided that someone should at least get to enjoy that cake. If I didn't give it to them, the police would simply take it away to examine for evidence.

That cake was far too good to be wasted as evidence in my murder trial.

Chase picked up the cake and the boy holding me immediately pushed me to the side, taking a cupcake for himself and slipping the knife back into his pocket.

"Thanks!" Chase called, as he ran out of the bakery, a big goofy grin on his face.

"Sorry," Austin grimaced, following his brother outside.

The dark haired boy didn't even acknowledge me as he walked away, but he seemed to have a sudden change of heart, since he stopped at the doorway.

"Oh and before you call the cops or something, you should know that the knife was plastic."

I stared at him in disbelief.

"See you around, Cupcake." He smirked at me, before stepping outside and disappearing into the darkness.

All I could do was stand there, shell shocked, as I processed what had happened. I had just let three teenage boys rob the bakery with a plastic knife.

The next morning I was woken up not by my alarm, but by the bright morning light that seemed to be so inconveniently streaming through my window. I let out some kind of groaning noise before rolling onto my side, so that my face was pressed into the sheets.

Why hadn't I closed the damn curtains before

going to bed?

I pulled my blanket over my head and attempted to return back to my unconscious state, but to no avail.

It was Monday morning, which meant only one thing.

School.

To be more precise, the first day of senior year.

I wasn't exactly dreading it, but I wasn't looking forward to it either. When I'd moved here a year ago with my family, I had immediately picked up on the fact that the kids my age were pretty different to me. In this school you were either bubbly and pretty and popular, or you were just not important.

And I was the latter.

Don't get me wrong, I do have my small group of friends (who