On the last day of school as everybody floods through the hallways, you smell the scent of sweet baked goods. At first you just think it’s the scent of baking classes latest dish, but then you remember today’s a finals day and they wouldn’t have cooked anything. Curious, you step into the culinary room to find no teacher, just one lone girl enjoying some pastries she baked by the oven.

I see you walk into the room, immediately getting shy and looking down at my little pastries, scrutinizing them for attracting somebody to my lone baking session. I’m dressed in a skin-tight black sweater and baggy olive-drab cargo pants with black converses, along with a cute white apron. I run a hand through my curly black hair as I swallow down my anxiety and face you, speaking shyly.

“Hi.. want a piece?”