Well, that had gone well.

Not.

Turns out, one of the neighbors was diabetic. Some kid named “Thehun” though she had a feeling that wasn’t really his name and the guy who answered the door was making fun of whoever “Thehun” was. After that embarrassing fiasco, and a door slamming in her face, she resolved to never go there again.

Besides, she had enough going on at the bakery and college; she didn’t need thoughts about noisy neighbors cluttering her brain. She was behind on payments for the bakery and she just failed her Calculus II mid-term. Which meant more money for tutoring…money she just so happened to not have.

She almost missed the cheery jingle notifying her of a potential customer. Beaming just a little too brightly, sounding just a smidge forced, she greeted, “Hi! Welcome to Baker’s Paradise! How may I help you?”

The teen that had entered had the most dead-panned expression she faltered half way through, the cheery greeting not sounding so cheery by the end of it. The silence that followed was painfully awkward. The teen stared at her; she just blinked right back at him.

“Um…would you like to try a sample of anything?” She gestured at the array of baked treats in front of her.

“I’m diabetic.”

Crap. That's familiar.

“Well…don’t take this wrong, but why are you here then?”

The teen’s lips lifted by the barest hint, apparently amused by her not-so-subtle hint.

“My friends ditched me.”

His lisp was adorable.

“Some friends you got there.”

Again, a miniscule lift.

“Well what can I say? I guess I’m just too nice.