I looked down at the cupcakes, studying each one carefully. They were all decorated differently, and even with my limited baking experience, I could tell they’d been iced using different piping tips. As different as they were, each one was just as beautiful as the next.
The first cupcake was green, but not the kind of green I’d expected from a place like this. It wasn’t pale or pastel. It was the kind of green you find in a forest. Deep. Rich. Alive. The kind of green that comes with growth.
The second was yellow, and the color alone made my cheeks warm for obvious reasons. It was bright, like the sun on the hottest day of the year. I wasn’t sure how they’d managed to make the icing so vibrant, but it almost glowed.
The third was pink. Soft. Delicate. It reminded me of the blush still lingering on my skin. The kind of pink that makes you think of princesses and dancing, of things light and carefree.
The fourth was orange, and it made me think of the pillows on my bed at home. Not a sharp orange, but a muted one. You could call it dull, but that wouldn’t be fair. It was a sunrise orange. The kind that paints the sky with quiet happiness before the world wakes up.
The last cupcake was blue. A beautiful blue. Not too pale, not too dark. Balanced. It reminded me of Austin’s eyes, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that realization.
“Are these for me?” I finally asked, my voice soft.
“Who else would they be for, Yellow?” he replied, like the answer was obvious.
But it wasn’t. I wasn’t the kind of girl boys did things like this for. Those girls lived in movies and books. They belonged in carefully written scenes with swelling music and perfect timing. I was meant for real life. And real life was usually far more humbling.
“I don’t know.” I couldn’t control the way my smile spread, like it was bleeding into my cheeks without my permission. “What’s the game? These cupcakes?”
“You remember the morning after you and your friend stayed at my house?” Austin asked. I nodded. Of course I did. “When you tried to sneak out like I was just another boy you’d forget about?”
“Aren’t you?” I cut in, finally feeling my shoulders relax. The nerves that had been holding me tight loosened their grip. Austin had that effect on me. He startled me, just for a moment, before settling me again.
“I think we both know the answer to that,” he said, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe I’d even asked. “Do you remember what you said to me that morning?”
“Um…” I tried to think back, but the memories were hazy, clouded by the chaos of that night. “I said a few things.”
“Wow, Yellow,” he laughed softly. “You leave a longer impression on me than I leave on you. I remember every word.”
“You do?” The surprise slipped into my voice before I could stop it.
“Of course,” he said easily. “How could I forget when my mind keeps replaying them?”
I pressed my lips together, unsure how to respond. He was making me feel the way I did watching the moment two main characters finally kissed on my favorite show. That sharp, aching anticipation. The realization hit me all at once, and I wasn’t sure whether it was something beautiful or something dangerous.
“Yellow is my favorite color,” Austin said, quoting himself. “You told me it wasn’t yours. You asked if I shouldn’t already know what your favorite color was.” The memory sharpened, snapping into focus.
“And you said you’d need more than one night to figure that out,” I finished for him. As the words settled between us, I started to understand what this game might really be.
“You wouldn’t believe how many hours I spent trying to figure it out,” Austin said, looking at me like he needed me to understand just how serious he was. “It wasn’t as easy as it usually is, Yellow.”
“You spend a lot of time guessing girls’ favorite colors?” I asked, half amused.
“No,” he shrugged. “I don’t usually give a fuck. But like I said before, you’re different. So yeah, it took me a while.” He leaned back slightly, his eyes flicking toward the cupcakes. “You already told me it wasn’t yellow. You could have been lying, considering your hair and the clothes you wear. It could’ve been green, which is beautiful but criminally underrated. Or orange, which is basically yellow’s cousin.”
As he spoke, my gaze drifted to each cupcake that matched his words. Green. Yellow. Orange. I felt something shift in my chest. I couldn’t believe the amount of thought he’d put into something so small. All of this, because of one careless sentence I’d spoken days ago.
“It could’ve been pink,” Austin continued. “If you lined up ten teenage girls, at least seven would say pink. But again, you’re different. Pink would be the easy guess. The simple one. And I don’t think there’s anything simple about you.” He paused, watching me. “So go ahead, Yellow,” he said gently. “Pick a cupcake. Let’s see what happens.”
I snapped my gaze back up to his face, trying to read him. Trying to understand the angle. The point of all this. Was it a trick? A joke? Was I about to grab a cupcake and get sprayed with ice-cold water? That felt more believable than the alternative. Because I didn’t understand why someone like Austin would do something this thoughtful. We had barely met. I wasn’t special enough for special things.
“Go ahead,” he said gently, noticing my hesitation. “Whichever one you want. It doesn’t have to be in any order.”
I didn’t answer. Words had abandoned me entirely. I looked back down at the cupcakes, scanning them again, my mind spinning uselessly. After running my eyes over them twice, I finally reached forward. The yellow one. I lifted it from the table and immediately blinked in surprise. It was light. Far lighter than I expected, considering how generously it had been iced. Nothing happened. No tricks. No surprises. I was just about to look back at Austin when I noticed it. A small piece of paper lay beneath where the cupcake had been.
“Read it,” Austin said, nodding toward it.
I set the cupcake down and unfolded the paper carefully. The handwriting was unmistakable. Black ink. Slightly slanted. The same as the note I’d found tucked into my dress pocket days ago.
