Author's Note: Um...guess I am entering. Lol. CUPCAKE WARS CONTEST
Author's Note: Um...guess I am entering. Lol.
CUPCAKE WARS CONTEST
Pen name: Miss Snazzy
Word Count: 1,930
Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyers. Fantastical cupcake baking skills?
Yeah, those belong to me.
I cringed at the sharp pinch of the needle in my side. This had become as much a part of my life as brushing my teeth and it was beyond annoying. I sighed, knowing it couldn't be helped.
I tried not to glare when I entered the kitchen to find Emmett shoveling pancakes in his mouth. I'm pretty sure the pancake to syrup ratio was heavily tipped toward the sugary crap's side.
"It wouldn't be a Monday without finding you stuffing food into your gullet," I commented, pulling a yogurt cup out of the fridge.
"Jealous?" he grinned.
"Not really. Pancakes are shit. Now if you were eating waffles…" I sighed dreamily, suddenly wishing the yogurt in my hand was waffle flavored.
Though, that probably wouldn't taste right. After all, the waffle's main asset is its crunchiness.
"Do not insult what you do not know," he proclaimed sagely, waving his fork at me. "It's been ages since you've had either. You simply cannot judge."
I rolled my eyes. "You are simply an idiot."
"Sticks and stones, Sista. Sticks and stones."
I sang along with the radio, alternating between tapping my spoon on the steering wheel and scooping more yogurt into my mouth. Some days I felt resentful that I was the one to get diabetes. It hardly seemed fair, especially with my Cookie Monster of a brother. Still, I knew it wasn't his fault.
I grabbed my bag and shut the door, trailing my fingers along the bed of my truck as I walked toward my first class. Truth be told, my behemoth of a vehicle was a piece of crap. But hey, it was my piece of crap. All of its little imperfections just gave it a bit more character. Not like those flashy cars—I mentally pointed at the silver Volvo and the yellow Porsche.
Would I be able to pick my truck out of a line-up of other red trucks? Absolutely. Would Edward and Alice be able to pick out theirs? Doubtful.
And that brings us to the Cullen twins.
You've got Alice—the perky president of student council, who must have hourly injections of adrenaline to keep that kind of energy going. I actually had this theory that she's really one of those energizer bunnies. Hell, the electric shock would explain the black hair sticking out in all directions. That almost punk rocker look combined with her upbeat attitude and old money had tilted the election in her favor by a landslide.
Then there's Edward—the track student who had broken dozens of records, but still managed to keep himself firmly rooted at the top of the class. What the hell is that, anyway? You're either athletic or you're smart. You can't be both. That just isn't fair.
Okay, so maybe I'm a little jealous. You would be too if you were second. The only way I'd manage to snag his spot is if he got something less than an A, and that was just unlikely. Maybe he took adrenaline injections too. Not as high a dose as his sister, but enough to give him the energy to run all those laps and then devastate the curve.
I'm sure all the failed grades he caused would've gotten him his ass kicked if he wasn't so damn intimidating. Freshman year the school's resident creep smacked his sister's ass, and let's just say things didn't end well for him.
Speak of the slime and he shall appear. Not devil. James isn't the source of all evil, just the gooey shit under your shoe.
"Bell-ahh." He swung his arm over my shoulder, pulling me into his chest.
"Whoa-ho-ho. Did someone fall into a tub of cologne?" I slipped out from under his arm.
"Got it just for you. You like?" he wiggled his eyebrows.
"I'll let you know when I stop choking," I coughed a bit to emphasize and also because that shit was strong.
"Oh come on baby. We both know you want me. Stop playing hard to get."
"Not playing! Just really trying to get away!" I shouted over my shoulder as I dove into the girl's bathroom.
I resisted the urge to yell—Sanctuary! Sanctuary!
"Hiding from James?" she asked as she applied a little more powder to her cheeks.
I pointed my hand gun at her and made a click noise from the corner of my mouth. What the hell is that called anyway? Someone should come up with a name for it. It's almost like a wink for your mouth. A wowth? A mink? Might confuse people with the animal…
"He's such a creep," she sighed, frowning at an imaginary blemish.
"He's after anything with less than three legs."
She raised an eyebrow at me.
"I counted the peep as the third," I explained.
She laughed. It was one of those deep belly laughs. I always loved that about her. She'd throw her head back and I'd have the urge to ask her what she'd done with the puppies. The zebra printed clothes she tended to wear really weren't helping to remove the association from my mind.
Rosalie Hale. Yeah, her name kind of deserves its own sentence. She's pretty much what you'd expect Barbie to look like if she came to life. Long blonde hair, big boobs, big butt and teeny tiny waist—pretty much all the good qualities wrapped into one. She was a bit vain, but hey, most teenage girls are. Besides, her personality made up for it. Or maybe that was her awesome laugh that did that.
Hmm. I'd have to consult the counsel on this one.
Anyway, she's the perfect girl you'd expect to be standing atop the pyramid, stomping on the poor male population's hearts, and being an all around snotty bitch that treats everyone around her like shit.
Well…she was a bit of a bitch, but the rest wasn't her. I don't think she'd make a good cheerleader anyway. All that bouncing would just give her a pair of black eyes.
Finished applying her make-up for what would be the third time out of a hundred today, she linked arms with me and dragged me out of the bathroom. I would've hidden longer in case James was lurking. Of course, Rosalie didn't have to worry about him much. He'd mostly left her alone since she planted a four inch stiletto between his legs. On the plus side, at least that meant the chances of a bunch of little slime babies sliding around had become far less likely.
"Oh! Guess what?" Emmett stopped in front of us, practically bouncing.
Jesus. Did everyone start getting those adrenaline injections? And why the hell wasn't I called? I am the town junkie after all.
"What Emmett," we both said at the same time in a monotone.
Undeterred by our obvious lack of interest, he told us.
"A new shop just opened up!"
"Your brother might just be batting for the other side," Rosalie whispered in my ear. Loudly.
"Cool. I've always wanted a gay best friend," I grinned at her.
"But I won't get to be your sister," she frowned at me.
"I'll still let you be my sister even if he does turn out gay."
"Oh okay," she smiled, her worries forgotten.
"Besides, just think of the possibilities! We can have him paint our toe nails!" I used my patented super girly squeal.
It took ages to perfect that girlish scream that belonged uniquely to Rachel and her sisters.
"And braid our hair!" she squealed back.
She was a black belt in the girly scream.
"I am not gay," Emmett glared at us.
"Oh Emmy Bear, we know," she told him sweetly and we both nodded seriously at him.
I could practically see his blood rising at the name she'd used for him—the one she always uses when we're mocking him.
I think what really did it though was the wink.
He groaned and I half expected him to start tearing off his clothes as he morphed into a monster and turned green.
Luckily, Little Alice Cottontail hopped over before he could open his mouth.
"Did I just miss the Greene Scream?"
"That you did," I replied solemnly.
Her eyes watered up and I pulled her into a hug. I patted her back and said "I know" a few times.
"Oh come on! Now this is just getting ridiculous!"
And where Alice is, Jasper must follow.
"What's go'in on here?" he asked in concern, taking in Alice's watery eyes.
"Emmett might be gay."
Jasper raised an eyebrow. "And you're this depressed about it? Geez Ally, I've gotta say I'm a little hurt. I thought we had something special."
"I missed the Greene Scream," Alice hiccupped in explanation.
"Oh no." He looked like he might burst into tears too.
"You people are insane!" Emmett shouted at us before stalking off down the hall.
"Guess that's my cue," Rosalie sighed before taking off after him.
We watched them for a moment, hearing Rosalie yell "Baby, wait! We were just kidding!" before they disappeared from sight.
"You're getting better," Jasper commented after I released Alice and he began dabbing away her fake tears.
"I have Bella to thank for that," she said cheerfully. "Though, I had a bit of trouble getting the tears to fall. How do you do it?"
"I always breathe heavily when I do it."
"Do what?" a new voice asked.
"What?" I asked, looking around like I wasn't the one who had spoken. But in my head, it was more like this—Danger, Will Robinson! Danger!
Now if I only had my own robot to distract him. Or maybe just Matt LeBlanc to distract me.
"You said—I always breathe heavily when I do it . When you do what?" he asked.
Why are you avoiding answering him? Whatever he's thinking is probably a million times worse than the truth, you idiot.
Well now, mental voice. No need to be mean.
"When I'm trying to cry," I explained.
"Why would you want to cry?" he asked, looking at me curiously.
Or maybe like he thought I was insane. It was hard to tell with him. Mostly his eyes just said—
How you doin'?
Cue Matt LeBlanc.
"It's a vital weapon of the female arsenal," I answered him before turning to Alice. "I'll catch you guys later. Wouldn't want to be late."
I hurried away, feeling a pair of confused eyes attached to my back. When I turned a corner and the pressure was gone, I breathed a sigh of relief.
Did I mention that he's also gorgeous? Yeah. I may have a crush on him. And these feelings may have been there since the moment I sat a seat away from him freshman year. He may also have no idea who I am.
Okay, so we kind of ran with the same crowd, but that didn't mean he knew me. One of us always seemed to be conveniently missing from the group, but there were the rare instances like a few moments ago when our worlds would clash.
So yeah. He really didn't know me. Stupid, intelligent, gorgeous bastard.
And okay, so maybe it's partly my fault for always taking off whenever we suddenly found ourselves in the same vicinity…but you try making small talk with the guy you can't help but obsess over and who stands in your way of becoming valedictorian.
He's also kind of my nemesis. Did I mention that? Guess it's true what they say—there's a fine line between love and hate.