They met online--an eighty-seven percent match. Pretty high, he thought. I want her to like me, he thought. So he made her a cake. Chocolate, because girls like that. Packaged powder mix from a cardboard box. Threw in an extra egg to make it softer, something his mom had taught him. He frosted it, placed it gently in a tupperware container. When she arrived at the bar, he set it on the table between them.
"Oh. That's so sweet. But I mean, I've never met you. Probably shouldn't take candy from strangers, you know?"
Until that moment, he didn't know.
He ate the cake that night on his couch, the whole thing, licked the frosting off his fingers, and he felt sick.
No comments:
Post a Comment