The Rules Of Kissing Girls
Maya’s mum had set up her stall: pastel tablecloths, cute labels, trays piled high with cupcakes and flaky pastries that could hypnotize a starving man.
“Maya, Charlotte! You’re late,” her mum called, but she smiled as she said it.
“Blame Charlotte,” Maya said instantly.
I slapped her arm. “This gremlin woke up five minutes before we left!”
Her mum laughed. “Both of you, wash your hands and help pack orders.”
We jumped into the table handing out cupcakes, arranging donut boxes, explaining that no, the icing was not sugar free, and no, the pies did not come with ‘buy one get four free’ no matter how hard one aunty negotiated.
Bab Populer