Chapter 1

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Clyde Donovan's first week of college was not going well. He got fired from his part-time job at Walmart and is now struggling to pay for food, textbooks, and tuition.

Clyde slumps back into his cramped on-campus dorm room. He throws his worn-out red letterman jacket onto a nearby chair before face-planting into his pillow. His light brown hair ruffled from the impact. He had just gotten back from a hangout with his friends.

"Just fantastic. I've made a total of two friends so far and all I do is third wheel them..." Clyde is referring to his friends Tweek and Craig who are the token gay couple in his university.

He checks the time on his watch. It's almost 8 pm. He hasn't eaten all day so he decides it wouldn't hurt to go to the fast food joint down the road.

He unenthusiastically retrieves his jacket and walks back out the door.

Right as he steps onto the sidewalk he gets a splitting headache from his lack of food. "Ugh..."

He doesn't pay much attention to his surroundings. His only goal was to get to a cheap place to eat.

"Just... a few more... blocks..."

Clyde falls backward onto his ass after running straight into a lamppost.

"Are you okay?" The lamp post asks as it extends a hand.

Clyde is convinced he's gone insane.

"Hello?? Did you hit your head?"

A car passes by and its headlights illuminate the lamp post. It's not a lamp post at all, just a very tall boy.

Clyde takes his hand and returns to his feet. "Sorry about that. I haven't eaten so I'm dizzy."

"Oh." The voice responds, low and smooth. "Here."

The boy hands Clyde a brown paper bag.

"Have a good night. And try not to bump into anyone else."

The tall, dark-skinned boy disappears into the darkness of the sidewalks.

"What was he doing out this late...?"

Clyde opens the bag to find two plastic boxes tied in ribbon. They both contain an assortment of fancy pastries. Colorful macarons, tiramisu, fruit tarts, and a crème brûlée.

Clyde knows the shop that sells these is almost two miles away, and is the most expensive food in this mountain town. This only makes him wonder more about what that lamp post was doing out at this hour by himself.

He takes the pastries back to his room. That's when he notices none of them have been touched. The stickers holding the boxes closed were intact. It's almost as if they were bought without any intention of actually eating them.

He wasn't too bothered. A meal is a meal. And he wasn't about to overthink this expensive treat.

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