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“True. I’ll just get drunk at the party this weekend. Flushing out all that unnecessary stuff occupying my brain,” Mary says.

“Speaking of which,” Gemma says, “Lil, we’ll pick you up from your dorm later so we can head to the airport together.”

“Sounds good.”

“Great!” Gemma claps her hands together. “See you soon!”

“Can’t wait for this weekend!” Mary loops her arm through Gemma’s as they walk away.

“Me neither,” I murmur to myself.

Maybe we’ll go further this weekend?

Wait. Will he even be at the party? We haven’t discussed it, and I don’t dare ask Gemma if he’ll be there. I’m not ready for her to find out about us, whatever this is.

At home, I pack clothes into a small suitcase, my hands moving mechanically. I should enjoy this trip with my friends and not overthink things with Sebastian.

What if he’s bored with me? No, that doesn’t make sense. I mean, why would he come to the library then? Does he think I need more time?

I… How would I even tell him I’m ready? What if I do, and he doesn’t want to because it’s a whole other reason?

Baking. I should bake. Baking always calms me, and this particular recipe is one of my favorites. It will be a nice gift for Gemma’s parents. Are her parents even there? It doesn’t matter.

That should do. At least my suitcase is organized. I zip it and go into the kitchen.

I measure out the flour, sugar, and other ingredients, sifting them into a large mixing bowl. The motions are automatic, muscle memory from countless times I’ve made these cupcakes. It’s a recipe I discovered years ago, tucked inside an old, handwritten cookbook that belonged to my mother.

I remember the first time I found it, sitting cross-legged on the floor of my childhood bedroom, surrounded by boxes of my parents’ belongings. The book was wedged between a stack of worn Regency Romance novels, its pages yellowed with age. Pride and Prejudice. I flipped through it curiously, pausing when a folded piece of paper slipped out.

Unfolding it, I saw my mother’s handwriting, looping across the page in faded ink. It was a recipe for chocolate cupcakes, and I remembered—the same ones she used to make for my birthdayswhen I was little. I could almost taste the rich chocolate and the sweet buttercream frosting.

I started making them myself not long after that. The first few batches were disastrous. Dense, burnt, or horrifically bitter. It’s a wonder Lan and Levi didn’t get food poisoning from my initial attempts.

But I kept trying, adjusting the ingredients and tweaking the baking time. Gradually, they started to resemble the cupcakes from my mother.

Now, as I crack the eggs into the bowl, it’s like my mother is beside me, guiding my hands. It’s stupid, but it makes me feel close to the woman I forgot. A bittersweet feeling.

Would she be proud?

I shake my head and pour the batter into the cupcake tins, sliding them into the preheated oven.

Later, as I’m packing up the cupcakes in a box there’s a knock at the door. I check the time on my phone. That must be Gemma.

“Coming!” I wipe my hands on a towel before opening the door to reveal Gemma standing there with Mary and Sebastian behind her.

I had no idea he would be coming along to get me.

“Hey! Are you ready to head out?” Gemma peers inside and spots the box of cupcakes. “Nice. Did you bake your famous cupcakes?”

“Exactly what I need after today’s exam,” Mary says.

“Um, but you can’t have all of them,” I say. “I thought it’d be nice to bring something for your parents, Gem.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet of you!” Gemma says. “I’m sure they’ll love them. Let’s get going!”

“They? It’s just mom,” Sebastian says.

“Oh, Dad canceled his business trip,” Gemma says. “So he’ll be there after all. They’ll be off for the evening, though.”

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