It was a crazy busy afternoon at Gaesha's Sweets. The little bakery smelled so good, like sugar and sweet vanilla, but something felt wrong today.
Gaesha stood by the big oven, her apron all messy with white flour, her hands shaking a little.
She'd been working super hard all day—making cupcakes, cookies, and a huge cake for a party order.
That cake was the big problem. She opened the oven door real slow, and a bunch of smoke came rushing out.
"Oh no," she said, waving her hands fast. "No, no, no! This can't be happening!"
She grabbed a towel quick and pulled the cake out. It was all black—burnt so bad, the edges looked like crunchy charcoal.
Gaesha just stared at it, her eyes getting all watery. "My cake," she whispered soft. "It's totally ruined."
The bell on the door jingled, and Kent walked in. He'd been walking by, thinking about Gaesha again—her happy laugh, the funny sketches she drew in his notebook.
He saw her standing there, her shoulders all droopy, and he stopped right away.
"Gaesha?" he said, his voice quiet. "What's wrong?"
Gaesha turned fast, wiping her face with her sleeve. "Kent!" she said, trying to sound okay. "Hi. Um… it's nothing. I'm fine, really."
"You're crying," Kent said, walking closer. "What happened to you?"
She pointed at the sad cake on the counter. "That," she said. "It's dead. I burned it bad. It's for a party tonight, and now it's just trash."
Kent looked at the cake—it was super black and looked so sad sitting there.
"It's really bad," he said, nodding.
"I know!" Gaesha said, her voice cracking a little.
She plopped down on a stool and hid her face in her hands.
"I'm such a mess," she said. "I can't do anything right."
Kent frowned, looking at her. "Don't cry," he said. "It's just a cake, Gaesha."
"It's not just a cake!" Gaesha said, looking up at him. Tears were running down her cheeks now. "It's my job, Kent. People count on me to make things nice. I wanted this cake to be perfect, and I messed it all up."
"You're not a mess," Kent said, shaking his head. "You're… you know, just you."
"That's even worse!" Gaesha said, her voice all wobbly. "I'm loud and clumsy, and now I can't even bake right. What's wrong with me today?"
"Nothing's wrong," Kent said. He stood there, kind of awkward, his hands stuffed in his pockets. "It's one cake. You'll fix it, I know you will."
"How?" Gaesha said, sniffing loud. "It's burnt to a crisp! I don't have enough time!"
Kent looked around the bakery—at the bags of flour, the jars of sugar, the shiny mixing bowls.
"Make a new one," he said, like it was easy. "I'll help you."
"You?" Gaesha said, wiping her nose. "Kent, you don't bake at all."
"I don't," Kent said, shrugging. "But I can try. For you, I'll do it."
Gaesha blinked at him, surprised. "Really?" she said. "You'd do that for me?"
"Yeah," Kent said, nodding. "Stop crying, okay? Let's start now."
She wiped her eyes with her hands and stood up slow. "Okay," she said, her voice a little stronger. "Okay, Kent. You're my hero today."
"I'm not a hero," Kent said, looking away. "Where's the recipe for the cake?"
Gaesha grabbed a little notebook from the shelf behind her. "Here," she said, flipping it open fast. "Chocolate cake. It's simple. We can do this together."
"Good," Kent said, looking at the page. "Tell me what to do first."
"First," Gaesha said, pointing at the burnt cake, "throw that mess away. In the trash bin over there."
Kent picked up the cake, making a face. "This smells so bad," he said, walking to the bin and tossing it in. "Okay, what's next?"
"Flour," Gaesha said. "Two cups. Put it in that bowl there."
Kent grabbed the big bag of flour and started pouring. A big puff of flour went everywhere, all over his shirt and even his hair.
"Like this?" he asked, coughing a little.
"No!" Gaesha said, laughing even though her eyes were still wet. "Pour it slower! You're making a flour cloud!"
"Too late now," Kent said, brushing his hands off. "It's in the bowl."
"Messy boy," Gaesha said, giggling more. "Okay, now sugar. One cup, please."
Kent grabbed the sugar jar and measured it out, going slow this time.
"Here," he said, dumping it into the bowl. "Is this better?"
"Yeah," Gaesha said, smiling at him. "You're learning fast. Now cocoa—half a cup."
He found the cocoa powder and scooped some out carefully.
"This much?" he asked, holding it up for her to see.
"Perfect," Gaesha said, nodding. "Put it in."
Kent poured it slow, and the brown powder mixed with the flour and sugar.
"Looks okay," he said, checking the bowl.
"It does!" Gaesha said, clapping her hands. "See? We're a great team already."
"Not yet," Kent said, serious. "What's the next step?"
"Eggs," Gaesha said. "Two of them. Crack them into this little bowl first." She handed him a small bowl.
Kent took an egg and tapped it on the edge. It broke too hard, and the yolk dripped all over his hand.
"Ugh, great," he said. "This is sticky."
Gaesha laughed loud. "You're so bad at this!" she said. "Want me to do it?"
"No way," Kent said, grabbing another egg. "I'll do it right this time." He cracked it slower, and it went in the bowl cleaner. "There, see?"
"Good job," Gaesha said, grinning big. "Now pour it in the big bowl."
He did it, and she handed him a wooden spoon. "Mix it," she said. "But go slow, okay?"
Kent started stirring, his face all serious like he was doing something super important.
"Like this?" he asked, looking at her.
"Yeah," Gaesha said, watching him. "You're cute when you're focused like that."
"I'm not cute," Kent said, keeping his eyes on the bowl. "I'm just helping."
"Cute and helping," Gaesha said, teasing him. She grabbed some butter and melted it in a pan, then poured it into the mix. "Keep stirring, okay?"
They worked side by side—Gaesha adding some milk, Kent stirring the batter. She bumped into him by accident, and he put his hand on her arm to keep her steady.
"Careful," he said, his voice soft.
"Sorry," Gaesha said, blushing a little. "I'm so clumsy."
"I know," Kent said, not mad at all. "It's okay."
The batter started looking good, all smooth and chocolatey brown. Gaesha clapped her hands again.
"Look at that!" she said. "It's so good!"
"I told you," Kent said, nodding. "What now?"
"Into the oven," Gaesha said. "Pour it into this pan first."
Kent tipped the bowl careful, and Gaesha helped slide the pan into the oven.
"Forty minutes," she said, setting the timer. "We did it, Kent!"
"You did it," Kent said, leaning against the counter. "I just… stood here mostly."
"No way," Gaesha said, shaking her head. "You saved me. I was a total wreck before you came in."
"You weren't a wreck," Kent said, looking at her serious. "You're perfect."
Gaesha froze, her mouth open a little. "What?" she said, not sure she heard right.
"You," Kent said again. "You're perfect. Even with all the mess."
She stared at him, her eyes big and shiny. "Kent," she said slow. "Do you really mean that?"
"Yeah," he said, his voice steady. "I don't say stuff I don't mean."
Gaesha smiled, a slow, happy smile that lit up her face. "Thanks," she said softly. "You're perfect too, you know."
"No," Kent said, shaking his head. "I'm not."
"You are to me," Gaesha said, her voice warm. "Grumpy and perfect."
He didn't say anything back, just looked at her. They sat down on the stools, waiting for the cake to bake.
"It smells better now," Kent said after a bit.
"Yeah," Gaesha said, sniffing the air. "All because of you."
The bell jingled loud, and Mia walked in, her bag swinging. "Hey, Gaesha!" she said. "What's—oh, hi, Kent! Didn't expect you here."
"Hi," Kent said, giving her a small nod.
"What's cooking?" Mia asked, looking around.
"Cake," Gaesha said, pointing at the oven. "Kent helped me. I burned the first one real bad."
"You?" Mia said, her eyes wide. "Burn something? That's new!"
"Shut up," Gaesha said, laughing now. "He fixed it for me."
"Hero," Mia said, winking at Kent. "You're good for her, you know."
"No," Kent said, shaking his head. "She's good for me."
Gaesha's cheeks got all pink. "Stop it," she said, but she was smiling. "You're too sweet."
"Not sweet," Kent said, serious again. "Just honest."
Mia grinned big. "I like him," she said to Gaesha. "You should keep him around."
"Maybe," Gaesha said, looking at Kent. "If he wants to stay."
"I'm here," Kent said, his voice quiet. "For now, anyway."
The oven timer went ding, and Gaesha jumped up fast. She pulled out the cake—golden, fluffy, and perfect.
"Yes!" she said, bouncing a little. "We did it, Kent!"
"I told you," Kent said, a tiny smile on his face. "You're fine."
"More than fine," Gaesha said, looking at him. "Thanks, Kent. Really."
He nodded, his smile growing just a bit. She was a mess—his mess. And he liked it a lot.