Page 60 of The Stalker Snafu

A List

Cupcake Thief

Sixth lesson in all things magic: When someone asks how you did something, the answer is always “magic.” Always.

An hour later

Cupcake Thief

Cupcake, you there?

Sleep was impossible. After we gave up on finishing the bottomless tub of cookie dough, I didn’t do much outside of staring at the ceiling and clinging to Mr. Elephant all night. Unsurprisingly, my position hadn’t changed when the sun rose, while Teresa was using the morning to be productive and do homework. I would’ve felt bad if I thought myself capable of any feelings other than betrayal and a budding thirst for vengeance.

But surprisingly, no tears came. Not even ones of rage or fury.

Apparently, my love life wasn’t worthy of a movie-esque montage filled with scorned women riding horses into battle or cowgirls keying their ex’s truck. Instead, I lay in bed and counted the dots in the ceiling tiles.

There were 5,142, for the record.

“Want me to grab some waffles from the cafeteria?” Teresa broke the silence from her bed across the room.

I shrugged against my mountain of pillows, wondering how many other girls had stared at this same dorm ceiling while thinking about a boy who’d lied to them.

“You need to eat,” Teresa pressed. She sighed, and I braced myself for something I didn’t want to hear. “… Do we hate him now?”

I took a deep breath and kicked the covers down with my legs. I hadn’t bothered to change into pajamas last night, no matter how overheated the catering pants made me. “I don’t know.”

“He’s a liar,” she said. “We know that much.”

I nodded.

“Did he say why?”

I could only shrug.

“Do you want to talk about it, or do you want to be distracted?” she asked.

I shrugged again.

She blew out a breath. “I have to go soon, and I don’t want to leave you wallowing all by yourself for a week.”

“I’ll be fine.” I sighed, exhaling as long as I could while imagining myself sinking down and becoming one with the mattress. That sounded a lot more fun than thinking about a lying idiot.

“How about getting some homework out of the way now? That’ll get your mind off the-bastard-who-shall-not-be-named, and you won’t procrastinate until the end of break.”

I scrunched my nose. “I’ll just do it tomorrow. It’s not like I have any other plans.”

“No, you won’t, because I’m leaving in like an hour, and I know you won’t do your homework while I’m gone. Before you know it, a week will go by and you’ll be running around like a chicken with your head cut off on Sunday night trying to get it all finished.”

Another sigh. “Whatever, mom.”

I leaned off the bed and fumbled for my diary. Henrietta was tucked between the pages, and a pit settled in my stomach as she rolled into my hand. I stared at her elegant light-pink body, turning her over in my fingers until the engraving shone back.

All my love, Noah

“More like ‘All my lies,’” I muttered bitterly, turning the engraving away. I flipped to the next open page and doodled a treble clef in the margin along with a little smiley face. Then I thought it looked too happy, so I added an angry set of eyebrows.

Teresa’s homework had caught her attention again, and she groaned. “I don’t know how my professor expects me to hand in a fifteen-page paper the day after Thanksgiving break. How am I supposed to relax and enjoy myself with this hanging over my head?”