The Pink Cupcake

Plan C

* I made a change to Plan A. You don't have to re-read it though, I'll just tell you what it is. Instead of there being two psychic cards with seperate women, there is now one. The third card is of 31, which is Flo's lucky number. If you're still confused, go back and re-read the psychic scene <3

Plan C

I had come to the point where not only was I desperate, but my passport photo was featured next to the word in the Oxford Dictionary. I already knew what I wanted to be, but my parents insisted that they wouldn’t support me until I went to Harvard.

            So, there I was. The campus was just as beautiful as I remembered being described to me as a child, with stunning olden structures and top class facilities. I felt a bit out of place as I walked across the pristine lawn towards one of the smaller buildings.

            Checking my phone, I saw that I had ten minutes to get to my first and only class.

            West was wrong when he said that there was no way to inspire me. As soon as I read that Eleonara de Wyntere’s parents were bakers, I knew exactly what I wanted to do. He really did fix my life that day, which was why I couldn’t seem to curb this horrible crush I had on him.

            I was going to have to, though, because I kept hearing around campus that a certain Landon West was newly engaged to Elena Carmody.

            Talk about unrequited love.

            The room my class was in was already crowded with students, most of them being men. I think that this was the course their mother’s forced them to take so they didn’t poison themselves: A baking course.

            “Hurry, hurry,” the instructor cried, “and get behind one of the stations. We’ll be working in partners today, so don’t be shy!”

            I awkwardly walked over to the kitchen at the back. It was the only that didn't already have two people behind it. A guy with dark blonde hair stood with his back towards me. He looked like the typical jock from behind, with bulging muscles and a football jersey. His number was 31- my lucky number.

            Wasn’t that the number on one of the psychic cards?

            “Hi, I’m Flo,” I said to start a conversation. The guy turned around at the sound of my voice and I almost fell backwards at how hot he was. He wasn’t hot in the same way as West- whose hotness powered through his bad fashion sense. No, he was all chiseled features and big, baby blue eyes.

            The guy looked me over like I was an alien before sending me a big smile. “I’m Dean.”

            Wow, someone’s cheerful today.

            “Nice to meet you Dean.” I grinned back at him for the hell of it. Who was I to ruin his day just because my crush loved someone else? “What are you doing in a class like this?”

            “Oh, I…” He took a minute to find the right words. “I-I w-w-want to…”

            I frowned as he stopped himself, a defeated look on his face. “You want to…?”

            “I w-w-want to have mmm… my own c-café.” I watched as he let out a small breath of relief when he managed to get the whole sentence out. Suddenly, it dawned on me.

            Dean had a stutter.   

            Oh my God, that is insanely adorable.