The cupcake I’ve ordered arrives. It is a chocolate cupcake with mint-flavored green frosting, chocolate chips and strings of chocolate syrup on top. It’s carefully laid down on a dainty little embroidered cloth. It’s like this cupcake place is made for Instagram.
I immediately get my phone from my old Jansport on a seat beside me. I try my best to get the best angle, shooting from every possible position. I try to shoot from the top, from the bottom, from the side and up close.
As I was about to tap on my phone screen, someone walks by in the background, which ruins everything.
It is him. With someone. A girl, who’s not his sister or his cousin.
I should know because she is his girlfriend.