Chapter 51

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       Tina wiped her brow with the back of her wrist, then hunched over again to resume her work. She was bending over the kitchen counter, and in front of her stood a small cake. The clock read 7:02 in the morning, and she spared it a glance before hurriedly returning to the cake. She had a frosting pouch clutched between her hands, and she squeezed it effortfully. The frosting that came out was uneven and lumpy, and Tina frowned as scrutinized it. 

       Today, February 24th, was Newt's birthday. Tina'd  had no idea what to get him, so instead she'd woken up extra early to bake him a cake from scratch. It wasn't a large cake; in fact, it was on the small side. Maybe only six inches or so in diameter, but she had tried her best to decorate it meaningfully. Not elaborately, but certainly meaningfully. Or so she hoped. 

      Tina straightened up, and set the frosting pouch down. She daren't use magic to decorate it, as she had never really practiced these sort of charms. She wished that Queenie were here to help her, as this field was her specialty. Jacob's help would be nice too, seeing as he was a baker. 

       Tina wiped her hands on her apron, which was speckled with flecks of batter and icing. She ignored it, and stepped back to admire the cake in its full glory. It was plain vanilla, but on top of the cake, a scene decorated it. It was of Newt's case, and the creatures inside it.

        In one corner was Frank the Thunderbird, and at the bottom were the Occamies, with Dougal off to the side. A Thestral soared through the air, and Tina had frosted a tiny, blurred version of herself sitting on top of it. In another section, a figure of Newt stood with what looked like a green stick in his hand, which was actually Pickett. In another corner was his shed, and Tina and Queenie were in front of it, singing the Ilvermorny school song. Newt and Jacob were sitting at a bench and chuckling and clapping good-naturedly.

       Tina felt pleased with herself, even though the artwork wasn't the best. The frosting lines were wobbly and smudged, and the images looked blurred and vague, but she thought Newt would be able to tell what it was. She felt strange, as she had never really bothered with complicated decorations before. However, she also felt oddly satisfied. 

      A soft, sleepy set of shuffling footsteps made her head jerk up alarmingly. Her breath caught, and a sudden wave of worries swept rapidly through her. What if he didn't like cake? What if he was allergic? And worst of all, what if he hated the design, or thought that it was stupid?

       Tina squirmed nervously, and waited for Newt to enter the kitchen. She stilled as he lumbered into sight, and anxiously fixed her gaze on him. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, stretching his arms above his head. 

       "Morning," Tina said hesitantly. 

       "G'morning," he mumbled.

       Newt didn't seem to realize that it was his birthday. He blinked blearily, and blinked some more as his gaze fell upon the birthday cake. His brow furrowed in confusion, and he looked questioningly at Tina.

       "Happy birthday," she said, awkwardly spreading her arms open.

       Newt stared at her for several moments, and and his mouth fell open in surprise. Tina became uncomfortably aware that she had a spot of frosting on the tip of her nose, and that her cheeks were dusted in flour. Her apron was caked in batter and icing, and her hair had sugar in it. 

       "I...I wasn't expecting anything..." Newt murmured, his gaze darting from the cake to Tina.

       Tina glanced at the cake again, and deflated. Suddenly it seemed childlish and messy, as though a toddler had scribbled with crayons across the surface. She cringed inwardly, and wished that she had just gotten Newt a present instead.

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