Sugar Rush (Offensive Line #1)

“Yeah, a little. I thought he was into you.”


“He was into trying to get laid. I’m sure he has plenty of other numbers in his phone he can use for that purpose. Willing girls. Ones that aren’t frigid.”

She glowers at me. “You’re not gonna let that go, are you?”

“Let it go? Really? Is that a Frozen reference? ‘Cause we’re both frigid?”

“Dude, don’t be a bitch.”

I smile. “I can’t help it.”

“Clearly.” She sighs, looking around the kitchen. “Do you have things under control here? Can I go open the doors?”

“Yeah, we’re ready. Holler if you need help with the register.”

“You got it.”

Rona disappears through the swinging doors to head to the front. I finish another row of cupcakes, finding my rhythm and zoning out blissfully when she shouts to me.

“Lilly!”

I squeeze the bag too hard. Red frosting coats my left hand.

“Shit,” I mutter. I grab a rag and run for the front. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

Rona is standing by the door, her hand holding back the curtain just enough for her to peek through. She doesn’t look back at me. Instead she gestures wildly for me to come to the window.

I mimic her stance on the next curtain down, pulling it back only slightly.

“Holy fuck,” I whisper.

She hits me hard on the back. “Right? Oh my God!”

There’s a line of people as far as I can see. Almost all of them are women, but there are a few guys mixed in. Most of them are wearing Kodiak gear.

I step back from the window, letting the blind fall flat. “Holy crap, he did it, didn’t he? He actually told the press about us.”

Rona jumps up and down happily. “I knew he would! And he did it because he likes you, you whore!”

I feel myself starting to smile. It’s a traitorous feeling. So is the blush that creeps unbidden onto my cheeks.

“What are we going to do?” I ask her, avoiding this feeling. “We’re going to be slammed. Can we call John or Gina to come in and help out?”

“Gina has classes all morning, but John does his online. We could try to wake him up and talk him into coming in.”

“I’ll call him.”

“Better hurry. It’s almost six and that line looks hungry.”

I go to the back to grab my cell phone. I try not to notice the fact that I still have no missed calls, and I make a quick call to John. He answers tiredly, bitches at me about late band practices and notice and some other ramblings about energy drinks, and then promises to come in soon. When I hang up I run out the backdoor to the alley, dart across the sleepy, empty street, and stand in front of the abandoned Blockbuster building. From here I can see our store and the line of people waiting outside it. It’s long. It spans three other storefronts on top of our own. I shake my head in amazement, snap a quick picture, and run back inside the kitchen.

I attach the picture to a post on the bakery’s Facebook page telling the world that we’ve caught Kodiak Fever.

Before I can think it through, I tag Colt Avery’s page.

I stow my phone, take a bracing breath, and go out front to unlock the doors with Rona.

The next five hours are a blur. We sell out of a lot of our hottest items, nearly every flavor of the K?sebrezel. When John shows up we put him on register so Rona and I can go to the back and make more. Those sell out too, so we make more. An hour later they’re gone. Eventually we have to stop making them because we run out of cheese. We look outside to check the line periodically and it seems like it never goes down. It’s like a hydra. Once we serve one person, two more appear in their place. It’s five hours of non-stop sales before the last person is out the door and we’re alone. My ears ring with the silence inside the building.

“Wow,” Rona mutters numbly.

I push my hands through my hair, shoving it away from my face. “Yeah. Holy crap.”

“That was intense. Is that what success feels like?”

“I think so.”

“It’s a rush.”

“I’m exhausted.”

“I’m pumped,” she proclaims with a smile. “I could run a marathon.”

I look at her doubtfully. “I thought we swore off running in middle school when we decided ‘sweat soaked’ wasn’t a good look for us.”

She waves me away carelessly. “It’s a figure of speech. I’m seriously so hyper right now.”

“Then do you mind if I take a break first? I’m spent.”

“Yeah, sure. You should anyway. You got here first.”

“Thanks, Ro.” I stop as I move past her, grabbing her into a quick, awkward hug. “Today is a good day, isn’t it?”

She laughs, rocking me excitedly from side to side. “Today is a great fucking day, Lil. Enjoy it.” When she releases me she slaps me on the ass. “We’ll have to find a way to thank Colt for this. We owe him big.”

“We’ll find a way.”

“You could reconsider sleeping with him,” she suggests.