As I put my apron and chef hat on, I noticed a new costumer make their way inside our bakery. It was a small town and I knew almost everyone, having worked, or simply helped out, here ever since I was just a little girl. The bakery belonged to my grandma and it was kind of a family thing.

I made my way to the front, taking the pleasure in welcoming our new costumer. It happened to be a boy about my age, his dark brown eyes making him seem a little intimidating, and his light brown hair complimenting them perfectly.

"Hello! Welcome to Carol's Bakery. What can I help you with today?" I said, a friendly smile on my face.

"I want a big powered donut. Twenty pounds of pure dough, baby." The guy said, and I raised an eyebrow at such a peculiar request.

"I'm sorry?" I asked again, making sure my ears weren't failing me.

"Twenty pounds of powered glory. I need it by two o'clock." He repeated, resting his chin on the palm of his hand, his elbow placed on the counter.

"I don't think we do that here." I told him, giving him a weird look. He rolled his eyes in response.

"Why do you even need that big of a donut?" I asked, my tone thick with curiosity. A deep chuckle escaped his lips.

"Donut ask. Just do." He replied oh-so humorously.

"Sorry but I can't do that." I said once again, and he grunted in annoyance.

"Fine." He said simply before literally jumping over the counter and snatching the chef hat off my head, placing it on his instead.

He started making his way to the back—rather confidently—and I frowned.

"What do you think you're doing?!" I asked, grabbing his arm. He looked down at my hand and swapped it away, his eyebrows knitting together.

"Making myself twenty pounds of pure powered glory." He said, and I rolled my eyes.

"Will you stop saying that?" I spat back in annoyance. "And you're not allowed to just barge in here!"

"Well you said you can't do it so I have no choice but to do it myself." He told me, making his statement sound like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He quickly ran to the back, ignoring anything I'd told him before. He found the dough faster than I could even reach him, and dumped the whole bag on the wooden counter. My eyes widened, a horrified expression on my face. I was going to be in so much trouble because of this idiot.

"OH YESSS." He said, closing his eyes and taking in the scent of the dough, moaning in pleasure.

"What is wrong with you? Dough doesn't even smell that good!" I said, glaring at him and pushing him away from the dough.

He didn't even bother trying to push me back. Instead, he ran over to the big bag labeled 'Powered Sugar'. An inhumane smile spread across his face, his eyeballs practically bulging out of his head as he stared at the bag in awe.

Freak.

"You know, you don't even put that on there until they're cooked..." I reminded him, and he began to laugh frantically.

"YOLO." He yelled, throwing the powered sugar in the air like he just didn't care.

"STOP!" I yelled in panic as the white powder came down gently on me.

Suddenly, my huge dog, Barnacle, ran inside the room.

Where'd he even come from?

He began barking loudly and the boy ran towards my pet and sat on it.

"Yeehaw!" He said, throwing an invisible lasso at nothing in particular. I threw my hands up in the air in exasperation. What the heck is wrong with this dude?!

My expression was clouded with confusion as I witnessed a complete stranger ride my barking dog as twenty pounds of dough sat on the wooden counter.

"GET OUT!" I yelled, clenching my fists in anger, and my cheeks heating up.

He blinked at me, his eyebrows saddening.

"But I was having fun with Barnacle." He pouted, and my eyes widened.

"How do you know his name?" I asked slowly, my voice sounding cautious.

"I-"

"Oh my goodness! What happened in here?!" My grandma yelled, walking in at the most opportune time—note my sarcasm—horrified at the view before her.

"It was him!" I immediately replied childishly, my finger pointing at the boy on the dog.

Suddenly, a smile made its way onto my grandma's face.

"Oh! Gary! You're here!" She said happily, walking over to the boy and wrapping him up in a hug.

Gary?

"Lillian! It's Gary!" She told me, grinning widely.

My eyes suddenly widened as realization hit me.

Gary...

"Cousin Gary?" I asked, my voice small, almost a whisper.

"'Sup Lily." He smirked, one hand wrapped around our grandmother's shoulder and the other petting Barnacle's head.

"You." I narrowed my eyes at him.

Oh, grandma, please forgive me for what I'm about to do to this boy.

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Word count: 843