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I wake to a frantic tapping on my shoulder. As my eyes slide open, the face of my adorable, fluffy pet slowly comes into focus.
“Pompon! What are you doing?”
My lively stuffed doll squints her eyes at me and grumbles.
“What?” The clouds in my brain gradually part, and I sit straight up.
“Oh my god! I’m late!” I quickly pet Pompon, then roll off the bed and scramble to put on my signature pumpkin dress as fast as possible. Today is my first day at Cinnamon High School - my first day at any school, actually. I’ve been home schooled by my festive parents all my life, and I love them, but I’m beyond excited to finally make some friends my own age.
I steal a slice of leftover pumpkin pie – what we have for every meal – before quickly rushing out the door, Pompon in my arms. I pull up Google Maps because I am a genius and start on my 20-minute journey to my new school.
The walk is pleasant, the wind gently blowing my orange curls away from the sides of my face. I beam and tilt my face up to the clear blue sky with my eyes closed, feeling the sun’s warmth through my eyelids.
“What a great day. Right, Pompon?”
Pompon whines in approval, and I giggle.
We continue walking as I munch on my slice of pumpkin pie. Soon, we approach our new school. The building slowly comes into view, and my jaw drops further with every step I take. Cinnamon High School looks like a castle, with perfectly laid bricks and beautiful columns tapering to points at the ends. We stand there and marvel at the golden statues in front, the painstakingly clean lawn, the red carpet leading to the entrance. It doesn’t look like a school; it’s more like a billionaire’s mansion. I can’t believe I’m going to be going here for high school. I have to wonder what my parents and author did to get me in.
“All right, enough marveling. Let’s do this, Pompon!”
I take a deep breath and walk onto the stunning carpet, marveling at the soft texture of it. I push open the huge, decorative door to find the building buzzing with activity. There are all types of students here, dressed in different types of clothing. I see a scary girl with red horns and braids, a brooding boy with a scar over his eye, and a soft-looking girl with white hair and an ice staff.
“Doesn’t everyone here look so cool, Pompon?” I ask quietly, struck with awe. A mean-looking girl with red hair gives me a weird look, and I frown. She proceeds to look me up and down and scowl before walking away. I stick out my tongue at her retreating back.
My first class is homeroom, in room 204. Figuring that’s on the second floor, I look around for the stairs, but I don’t see them anywhere. Students keep bumping into me as they head to their respective classes, and I’m starting to feel a bit overwhelmed, a little dizzy–
“Are you lost, baby girl?”
I blink up at an absolute unit of a man. He’s wearing a ski mask over his face, which is kind of weird, but he’s shirtless and has a … 24-pack?? If I were into men, maybe I would be drooling right now.
“Hey, yeah! I’m looking for room 204, do you know how to get there?” I ask desperately after the initial shock. He grunts, and before I know it, I’m being lifted into the air like I weigh nothing more than a sack of feathers. I grasp tightly to Pompon, making sure she’s safe.
Mystery man carries me all the way to my classroom before setting me down gently and handing me a note. “Call me, cutie,” he says with a wink. I laugh and take the note, just for funsies, and wave as he leaves, shouting a hasty “Thank you!”
I stuff Pompon into my backpack with a “remember, shhh” before finally stepping into the classroom, approaching the homeroom teacher.
“Hi, I’m Pump-” I immediately stop talking when the teacher turns around because WOW, she is a BOMBSHELL. My jaw is literally on the ground. Her long, white hair frames a youthful, undeniably perfect face, and she’s wearing a beautiful cape with thigh-high white socks. Could she be the most beautiful woman to ever exist? I can’t stop staring.
“You’re Pumpkin Pie, the new student? Pleasure to meet you. I’m Ms. Latte.” Ms. Latte extends her hand with a smile that lights up her lovely golden-brown complexion.
“Yes, ma’am.” I straighten up and shake her hand.
She giggles, batting her thick, snowy eyelashes. “No need to call me ma’am, dear. I’m not that old.” I laugh too, nodding.
At this point, the entire class is staring at our interaction. Ms. Latte turns to address her students. “Everyone, this is a new student who will be joining us today. She has been home-schooled all her life, so this is her first time at a school with other people. Let’s welcome her warmly! Pumpkin Pie, do you have anything you’d like to tell the class?”
I nod. “Hi everyone! I’m Pumpkin Pie. I love anything made from pumpkins, like pumpkin pie! My family eats it every day. And I adore the color orange! My entire wardrobe is orange.” As I excitedly introduce myself, I notice the mean girl who eyed me up and down earlier is sitting in the back row.
As if I accidentally summoned her by noticing, she smirks and exclaims, “We can tell, weirdo. You do know it’s not Halloween, right? You don’t need to dress so stupid.” The rest of the students in the back row snicker, and I glare at all of them, making a mental note to avoid Mean Girl and her squad. Unfortunately, Mean Girl has even more to say. “Plus, isn’t your overconsumption of pumpkins cannibalism or something? It’s gotta be illegal.” Her fan club laughs again, as if she were the funniest person in the world. But wait a second, maybe she’s onto something…
Before I can think too much about it, a girl sitting near the front cuts in. “Well, I think her dress is really cute! And pumpkin pie is great, even if it maybe might be cannibalism!”
I mouth an emphatic “thank you” to her, and when I turn to take a closer look at my savior, all thoughts of Ms. Latte vanish as I’m immediately stunned by her beauty. She has adorable, fluffy pink hair and piercing blue eyes. She wears a little strawberry on her head and has the cutest smile. Beautiful AND supportive? Sign me up.
Ms. Latte finally steps in. “Chili Pepper, what did we say about bullying?” She looks at Mean Girl sternly.
Mean Girl Chili Pepper rolls her eyes and sighs, “It makes the cats yowl with displeasure.”
“Good. Control yourself.”
Ms. Latte turns back to me. “You can sit in the free seat next to Strawberry Crepe, over there.” She points right next to the pink-haired girl. I have a mini celebration internally, squeezing Pompon, before making my way to my seat.
“Hey,” I whisper to Strawberry Crepe.
“Hey,” she whispers back with a small smile.
Ms. Latte starts talking. “Today, we –” Before she can even get three words in, the door swings open, and an important-looking man walks in. His clothes are pristine, completely unwrinkled, although his face looks tired, worn down from many days of doing his work. He and Ms. Latte start having a conversation, and Ms. Latte looks very confused.
I take the opportunity to talk to Strawberry Crepe more. “Hey, just curious, are you into girls?”
She seems surprised but answers, “Yeah, I am.” She then smirks, adding playfully, “Why, you interested?”
“Yeah, actually. Can I get your number?” I decide being straightforward is my best option here, since I really like her.
She winks and says, “Yeah! Let’s hang out sometime. I like your confidence.”
Score! She’s into me too. But I mean, how could she not be? I’m so pretty and cheerful. Still, my heart flutters as I envision our future dates.
Right as I’m about to ask Strawberry Crepe more about herself, the important-looking man clears his throat. His aura is so commanding that the entire class immediately shuts up and gets ready to listen, even Chili Pepper’s clique.
“Listen up, class. A dead body was found outside on the lawn.”
Everyone, including me, gasps loudly. Immediately, whispers break out as my classmates start speculating.
“Quiet. I am Almond, a private detective, and the school has hired me to figure out the culprit behind this heinous crime. I will need to speak to each of you individually, so when I call your name, please come with me to my office.”
The class stares at Almond in shock, but a few students manage small nods.
“Dude, can you believe this? Does this stuff happen much here?” I whisper to Strawberry Crepe.
She lets out a small laugh, but quickly bites it back. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh. I don’t know why I did. But no, definitely not. This is a really safe place.”
“Hmmm… okay, I see,” I respond. I open my mouth to ask her what she thinks happened, but before I get the chance, Almond calls my name.
Wow, I’m first? What an honor. I stand up and follow Almond out of the room. We walk in silence until we reach a small room at the end of the hall. He sits me down in a cushy armchair, then goes to the other side of the table to his own chair.
“So, Pumpkin Pie. I understand this is your first day here?” Almond asks in a serious tone.
I nod. “Yup, what a nice first-day surprise! I walk into homeroom for the first time and bam! Murder mystery!” I imitate an explosion with my hands. “What am I, the main character in some stupid bored college student’s NaNoWriMo novel? If so, what a poorly written story. Right, Almond?”
Almond doesn’t laugh.
“Okay, tough crowd. Well, I literally don’t know anyone here yet, so I didn’t do it, can I go now?” I sigh.
Almond says, “Not yet. When you were walking in, did you see anyone else outside?”
I scratch my chin. “I don’t think so. I actually spent like 10 minutes standing outside having an inner monologue before opening the door. I don’t really know why I did that. Guess my college student writer has a flair for the dramatic, huh? But I didn’t pay too much attention. I don’t think there was anyone else outside though. I was pretty late.”
Almond nods thoughtfully. “Okay, thanks for the information, PP. You can go back now. Can you call up Werewolf for me next?”
I ignore his unfortunate nickname for me and say, “Of course, sir. But oh, can I help with your investigation? I LOVE mysteries. I’m really good at them.”
Almond rolls his eyes and makes a shooing motion with his hand.
“Okay, okay, whatever. Bye, old man.”
I prance back down the hallway to Ms. Latte’s classroom. Ms. Latte seems to have given up on teaching anything for today, just letting all the students talk to each other about today’s exciting development. Strawberry Crepe is talking to a small kid with blue spiky hair and a strange pirate getup.
“Whoever is Werewolf, Almond wants to see you next. His office is all the way down the hallway on the left,” I announce to the class.
A timid looking boy with a shaggy haircut and ripped clothes stands up, gives me a nod, and heads out the door. I settle back into my seat next to Strawberry Crepe.
“Hey, Pumpkin Pie! This is Sorbet Shark. We’ve been discussing this whole thing.” Strawberry Crepe smiles at me, clearly excited at my return.
I shake Sorbet Shark’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you!”
Sorbet Shark responds, “OoooOoooOo!”
I give Strawberry Crepe a puzzled look. She explains, “Oh, they can only speak in O’s. So I guess it’s mostly just been me talking to myself, but yay! You’re back now!”
“OooOoo!” Sorbet Shark exclaims.
“Anyways, we think the victim was Snow Sugar. She’s usually in class, but she’s not here today. And she always shows up to class! She’s such a good student. So she’d have to be seriously hurt to not show up to school, you know.” Strawberry Crepe uses a flurry of hand motions as she speaks, emphasizing her points. It’s super endearing.
“Oh my gosh, who do you think did it then?? She sounds like someone no one would bother messing with, right?” I ask intensely.
Strawberry Crepe thinks for a second. “I’m really not sure. We were pretty close for a while, and at least during that period, I didn’t notice her having any enemies, especially any who would go to these lengths. She was super nice to everyone.”
“Awww, okay. Well, I’m sure Almond will figure it out. He looks super professional! And smart,” I muse. “I wish he would let me help him with his investigation. I looove mysteries.”
Strawberry Crepe sits up straight. “Me too! OMG, Pumpkin Pie, should we ask him if we can help him?”
I sigh. “I already asked him. Maybe I didn’t sell myself too well, but it doesn’t seem like he’s looking for help.”
“Pshhh. I’m sure he’ll want me on his team. I know everyone! I can eavesdrop on conversations while he definitely can’t, he looks so old. And you’re new here, but I’ll tell him we’re a package deal! I’m sure you’ll be really helpful.”
“Wow! Thank you so much! I can’t wait!!” In my excitement, I jump up and hug Strawberry Crepe tight. She hugs me back, and after a moment, we both blush.
“OooOOoo!” Sorbet Shark coos.
We sit back down, and Strawberry Crepe tucks her hair behind her ear shyly. “Anyways, I’ll talk to him when he calls me in. I’ll make sure he can’t turn us down!”
“Aww, thank you so much,” I respond contentedly. “For real. I owe you.”
“How about a date?” She winks at me. “I know this amazing coffee shop that’s really close to school. It’s called Espresso’s Espresso, since the owner’s name is Espresso. Isn’t that funny?”
I laugh. “Wow, their parents really set them up for success. But that sounds wonderful. Are you free after school today?”
“I sure am. Meet me next to the door when your classes are over, and we can go together.” Strawberry Crepe grins.
A muffled squeal comes from my backpack. Pompon must have gotten really excited for this new adventure.
“Did you hear that?” Strawberry Crepe asks.
“Yeah, I’ll show you today,” I say with a smile. “She’s my best friend.”
Strawberry Crepe looks a bit confused, but nods. “I can’t wait.”
My bored college student author doesn’t feel like writing the rest of this school day, so before I know it, the bell rings, and everyone is leaving class. I stand by the front door, waiting for my beautiful date to appear.
I feel a gentle tap on my shoulder and spin, but I don’t see anyone.
“Boo!” Strawberry Crepe puts both her hands on my other shoulder, having snuck over. I jolt, and she giggles adorably.
“You really got me!” I say, humoring her.
She smiles and takes my hand. “Let’s go to Espresso’s Espresso, shall we?”
I squeeze and nod happily.
On the short walk there, I learn all sorts of things about my date. Her favorite color is pink, she enjoys coding, and she REALLY likes strawberry ice cream with waffle cones. She said so, like, three times. Meanwhile, I remind her that my favorite color is orange and that I like pumpkin pie. I also provide her with some new information, such as my strange affinity with math, but my terrible hatred of coding, much to her dismay.
We also hold hands the whole time, which is exciting. However, at some point, either my hand or hers got very clammy, and it became quite uncomfortable. But that’s okay, if she doesn’t want to let go, then I don’t either.
Soon, the black sign comes into view. In fancy writing, it says, Espresso’s Espresso . Strawberry Crepe smiles. “I’ll introduce you to the owner! We’re good friends.”
“That sounds great,” I respond.
We walk through the door, and immediately, a mysterious-looking man with glasses walks towards us. His long cape drags on the floor, and all the customers turn to look, enticed by his strong presence.
“Madam! So nice to see you, as always.” Espresso settles into a deep bow.
I stare at Strawberry Crepe and whisper, “Who ARE you?”
Strawberry Crepe laughs. “No need for formality, Espresso. We’re friends.”
Espresso stands up. “Let me bring you two to your seats.” He leads us to a quiet table near the back. I can’t help but notice he doesn’t make eye contact with either of us at all.
He hands us two menus and says, “Let me know when you know what you want. It’s on the house.” I smile at him in gratitude.
After he walks away, I lean in to ask Strawberry Crepe, “Dude, did something happen between you guys?”
Strawberry Crepe shakes her head. “Our families have been friends for a long time, that’s all. Don’t worry about it, Pumpkin.”
I can sense she’s not telling me the truth, but I decide not to push it. Espresso was trying to hide it, but he was clearly scared of Strawberry Crepe for some reason. Maybe I should be careful around her in the future, lest she give me a reason to be scared of her too.
“So, what’s good here?” I ask nonchalantly.
Strawberry Crepe says, “Ooh! I really like their pastries. You should get the tiramisu! And some danishes!” She points on the menu.
“Haha, my family has dinner prepared for me at home, so I suppose I’ll just get the tiramisu,” I say.
“Aww, okay. I’ll get two danishes then, and you can have some of one of them!”
She calls Espresso, who scrambles over immediately, and orders for us. He takes our menus away quickly.
Strawberry Crepe props up her elbows and leans on her hands, sighing in what seems to be happiness.
“Excited for the food?” I ask.
“Yup! It’s gonna be so yummy,” she says.
I hesitate. “Sorry to ask again, but … I really feel like something happened between you and Espresso. Can you just tell me? I promise you can trust me.”
Strawberry Crepe’s expression twists. “Look, Pumpkin Pie, just leave it alone, okay? Nothing happened. Stop asking.”
She’s really scaring me now. But I’m sure it’s nothing. We wait in silence.
Our food arrives quickly. The tiramisu looks rich and delicious, and Strawberry Crepe’s danishes also look impeccable. I excitedly pick up my fork and get prepared to stab the tiramisu, but Strawberry Crepe quickly cuts in, saying, “Hey, I’m sorry. I just get touchy when people pry. Look, try the tiramisu with some of this chocolate syrup. It makes it even better.” She motions at a bottle next to her.
I breathe a sigh of relief, the worry rushing out of me with her apology. “Okay, thank you.”
She drizzles it onto my tiramisu slowly and delicately, making a perfect zig-zag. “There, now it’s perfect. Try it.” She looks at me with soft, loving eyes.
I smile at her and take a bite. The tiramisu melts in my mouth, the chocolate syrup perfectly countering the coffee-soaked ladyfingers’ bitterness. “Mmmmm,” I say. “This is amazing. You really know your stuff.”
She grins. “I sure do. Here, have a bite of my danish too.” She holds it up to my mouth.
I gently take a bite, trying not to disturb her hand or let any crumbs loose. However, I’m a bit shaky out of nervousness, and some crumbs fall. I hold my hand to my mouth as I chew.
Strawberry Crepe motions towards the corners of my mouth and says, “You got a little something.” I expect her to use a napkin to clean me up, but she moves her face onto mine and licks off the crumbs. “Yum.”
I can feel my face burst into flames, every part of it surely bright red. “Oh, yeah, thank you.”
She doesn’t move her face away afterwards. Instead, she looks into my eyes and puts her hand right under my ear, cupping my cheek. “Can I?”
I nod silently, still blushing furiously. I close my eyes and suddenly feel her soft lips gently pressing against mine. I make a small sound in my throat, and she takes it as permission to continue, becoming more insistent and pulling me in. We desperately grab at each other's hair and clothes as our bodies mold together, trying to become even closer-
A whistle from the table next to us brings me back to reality. I sit back up and fix my hair, cheeks burning. Strawberry Crepe also looks embarrassed, although she composes herself quickly.
“Hey,” she says, “how about you come to my place?”
“But we haven’t finished our food,” I protest.
Her eyes are dark. “I want you now, Pumpkin Pie. Please.”
My eyes widen, but I agree. Strawberry Crepe quickly leaves a ten dollar bill on the table before practically dragging me out of the coffee shop. We walk briskly until we arrive at a rich-looking house. “Let’s go in,” Strawberry Crepe insists.
“Okay,” I say. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t slightly enjoy this change in behavior from her. But at the same time, she’s kinda scaring me.
As we walk on the path to the door, my legs suddenly start to feel weak. At one point, I almost collapse. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I suddenly feel so shaky,” I say to Strawberry Crepe.
“It’s okay,” she insists with a sad-looking smile. She helps me up to the door as if I’m a 90-year-old grandma, and then opens the door, pushing me inside with some force. At this point, I feel as though I can’t move at all.
“Strawberry Crepe?” I ask, scared. Even my lips are starting to feel heavy.
“Shhhh…” she reassuringly rubs my back. I stare at her, slowly realizing what’s happened.
“Did you… poison me? Mustvebeenthechocolatesyrup…” I can’t move my lips anymore.
“You’re so smart, baby. I really did like you.” Strawberry Crepe leans down and kisses my frozen lips. She strokes my hair lovingly. I do my best to give her the stink eyes.
Why is she doing this? I thought we had really hit it off. I wish I could ask out loud to at least gain some closure before I die.
As if she read my mind, Strawberry Crepe says, “I know you’re probably confused right now. But I’ve just learned that if they start asking questions so early into the relationship, they’ll always be asking. So it’s really easier to just end it now.”
I do a mental eyeroll. I can’t believe this is how I go, taken by a ridiculously dramatic emo girl. There are so many things I wish I could say to her, but unfortunately, I can’t.
“Goodbye, Pumpkin Pie. You were far smarter than Snow Sugar was.” omg plot twist!!!
Honestly, that’s nice of her. At least I learned something new right before passing.
I close my eyes, and the nothingness engulfs me.