#Chapter95

Blue Lips

Maggie

Nash, Nixon, and I stood in the local grocery store's bakery section in front of glass cases.

“A cake?” I asked.

“Yep,” they both said.

“Why a cake?” I’m confused with the whole theory of getting a cake for something like blue balls until they explained it to me.

“Because we must mourn what one has lost, and we love cake.” Nixon raised a finger, emphasizing his point.

They searched through the case until they found one with blue icing.

“Perfect.” Nash pulled out a cake without writing. A genius can figure out why he picked this cake.

He took the cake to the baker, whispering...