“Listen, if you ever get hungry, eat to your heart’s consent,” Jessica said, smiling, “Just make sure that you tell our chef George what’s going on--where is she, anyway?”
“Right here.” Natalie laid eyes on George, a boy around Jessica’s age. He seemed rather disinterested in everything, safe for the steaming tray of muffins he held out in front of him, steam rising up from the rounded, fluffy surfaces those muffin tops. Of course, George had a little muffin top of his own there, nothing huge, but just a little--fluffier. Natalie kinda wanted to rest her hands on it, to give it a good ol’ squeeze and cuddle up next to him.
Again, awkward.
“What’s up with your face?” George asked, frowning.
“What? My face?”
“Yeah, it’s all red. It’s really weird.”
“I’m sorry, I--uh--”
“Whatever,” George mumbled, extending the tray to the other two, “Muffin? I guess you’re working here, so you better take a taste.”
“You’re offering me free food?” Natalie accepted the sweet, only to fumble it in her fingers. Too hot. It stunned her. The poor desert landed face-down on the floor, crumbling apart upon impact. George stared at it in disbelief, and, after sighing, offered a replacement.
This time, Natalie tasted it.
She nearly squealed in delight as the sweet flavor filled her throat. Her body was in knots as she bounced up and down on her toes, eager for a second bite--third--tenth--until it was all gone. When it was, she reached for another, only for George to draw the tray away. It was probably too much to ask for more.
“What did you think? Too sugary?”
“Oh, it was so sweet and delicious! It’s perfect.”
George’s eyebrows lowered in skepticism. “Don’t bullshit me. It was a bad batch, I know. You don’t need to tease me about it.”
“No, it honestly was amazing,” Natalie mumbled, slightly embarrassed.
George offered a different muffin. “This one is much better. I guarantee it. Maybe you’ll give me better criticism after tasting it.”
It was even sweeter than the last one.