“You’re crazy! You’re freakin’ crazy!” the no-longer-cocky boy stumbled away, nose bloody, bruise already forming around his eye.

“Oh come on,” Kiwi said cheerily, “he only hit you like six times!” From her vice-like grip, Zaster snarled, flailing his arms and legs as Kiwi held him back.

The boy squeaked and bolted.

Kiwi released Zaster. He growled and spat on the ground, whirling on her.

“You should have let me keep going!”

Kiwi rolled her eyes. “If you really believed that, you would have broken my grip.”

“I wanted to hurt his pride — had to make him watch someone weaker than him hold me back when he couldn’t even block a punch!”

Kiwi frowned. “Weaker, huh?” She kicked him where it hurts.

“MMMPH! YOU!” Zaster crumpled to the ground, “I’VE HAD IT WITH YOU, CUPCAKE-HEAD! WE ARE FREAKING DONE!”

Kiwi sauntered off. She turned her head, smirking. “You’ll be back.”

Zaster punched the ground.

“RRGH!”

***

The next morning, Kiwi reached into the oven and removed a fresh batch of dark chocolate raspberry cupcakes. She piped them with a thick fudgey frosting, decorated them with pink pearl sprinkles and put them in a tupperware to take to school. Today was the day: she would finally make a friend — a friend other than Zaster.

Kiwi scoped out her new friend in the cafeteria before school.

“Hi! Want a cupcake?” she asked a girl.

“Uh, no thanks, it’s 7 in the morning.”

“Ah.”

Kiwi had not thought of this. She backed away and bumped smack into her archenemies:

“Omg, Kiwi, stop trying to make friends with cupcakes already! You literally never talk about anything else. You have no life! No one wants to sit around watching you bake cupcakes all day,” Celaria sneered down at her. Celaria had hated Kiwi ever since kindergarten when Kiwi’d accidentally spilled caramel in her hair.

“Mmh,” Zaster reached around Kiwi to grab a cupcake from her. He took a huge bite.

The other girl frowned, “How can you eat that so early in the morning?”

Zaster looked meaningfully at her, “Practice.”

Then, he reached into his jacket and removed a huge water-gun.

“Bite me, snobs!”

A torrent of water soaked the girl’s face, soggy makeup running down her cheeks. He turned to Celaria, whose mouth was hanging open and aimed right for it. She gagged, hair dripping.

“ZACHARIAH ASTERBY!” a teacher stormed toward them.

Zaster grabbed Kiwi’s hand, “Let’s move!” They ran.

Out in the parking lot they collapsed, gasping.

“Haha! What was that? I thought you were mad at me,” Kiwi nudged him in the arm affectionately.

“Yeah! That artillery was meant for you Cupcake-Head. I just don’t like snobs.”

“Not ‘done’ then?”

A blast of water hit her in the face.

“Zaster what the heck?!” she spluttered.

“Mmhmm. We’re good now.”

A boy walking past jumped when he saw them.

“NO! Monster! Stay away!” He ran.

Kiwi raised her eyebrows at Zaster. “Are there any guys left at this school who aren’t afraid of you?”

“No. Why’d you think I hang with you?”

“Free cupcakes?”

“You’re just lucky I don’t get fat.”

Kiwi punched him in the arm. “You know they’re good.”

“They’re good.”

“Zaster?”

“Yeah?”

“Y’know, I don’t really care so much about making new friends so long as I have you.”

“Aw, getting sappy on me, huh?” He coughed awkwardly. “You too.” He looked away. “Look, Cupcake-Head… you know I have a problem keeping it together —”

“By ‘keeping it together,’ you mean not beating the life out of everyone you meet?”

“Shut up!”

She gave him a look.

“Y-Yeah.”

“S’ok,” she shrugged, “someday you’ll be less angry, and I’ll be less obsessed with cupcakes. In the mean time, wanna meet up after school?”

Zaster smiled. “You gonna make vanilla ones?”

“Not in it for the free cupcakes, huh?”

“Well?”

“Of course I’ll bake some vanilla.”

They walked back toward the school building together, Kiwi wringing out her soaked shirt, Zaster carrying her tupperware.