Sugar Rush Read Online Free Page B

for that jerk,” she repeated, hoping she sounded more convincing than she felt.

Chapter Three
     
    People always complain about having to get up at “the butt crack of dawn,” but Dulcie would give anything for the luxury of waking at daybreak. A seven-minute snooze button would also be heaven, but those who have a bazillion things to take care of and never enough time do not get that luxury.
    She cursed the cheesy candy song from the sixties that woke her up every day for years, her mother’s idea of a joke. She should just change it already, but she could never bring herself to do it.
    The song did have one good attribute, she supposed. At four in the morning, the over the top beat did get a person going.
    I want candy…
    Dulcie’s feet hit the floor at a full run as she threw on some clothes, bopping her head to the music.
    Half a second to check the mirror…and she nearly screamed. The whole going-to-bed-with-wet-hair-because-who-has-time-to-blow-dry thing seriously wasn’t working. Overnight, her head had grown a cowlick bubble, puffing out like a microwaved marshmallow. She sighed and searched for an elastic, throwing in her usual ponytail, trying to slick the disaster into submission. She flew out of the house before her song had finished a second run.
    The street was quiet, as usual. Not a whole lot of people mulled around that early, and Dulcie had to admit, in a way, the wee hours had become her favorite time. The calm before the storm. She even stopped running for a few steps when she hit the park, just to enjoy the peace—also known as snapping herself out of the daydream of Nick from last night. Ugh, why did her mind keep wandering there? He was awful.
    She shook her head and broke into a run again. If she showed up late one more time, Constance would not be happy. And she could not risk losing her.
    She slid the key into the door just as Constance came around the corner.
    “It’s a miracle!” she exclaimed.
    Constance was chipper even at four eighteen in the morning, which should be super annoying, but somehow she pulled it off without being obnoxious.
    “Har, har,” Dulcie said, shoving the door open, the bells jingling above.
    They’d done the routine so many times they didn’t have to talk—not that they had to stay quiet or anything, but both of them just got to it.
    Dulcie tuned to the all-blues station on the satellite radio, swearing she wouldn’t think of him even once. She needed her music, though—something about the blues really got a person into the groove of getting down with some candy making. Which she got right to as she ripped open the first ten-pound bag of sugar for the day and poured it into the giant pot lovingly referred to as Cauldron One.
    Unfortunately, along with helping her relax into the groove of candy making, the music also helped her mind relax, going every which way it pleased. Nick playing the bass was a recurring theme, which she scolded herself for every time, remembering all the things he’d said, thinking of witty replies she should have shot back with. Why do they always show up too late?
    Then it was back to concentrating on the music and candy, which only led to more daydreams: Nick’s lips, the way his hair curled around just his left ear, that maddeningly sexy smirk.
    Three hours, much music, lots of scolding, and several batches of truffles, fruit-flavored hard candy, and chocolate-dipped creations later, her iPhone’s code-red alarm for class wailed.
    Constance filled the display cases in front as Dulcie grabbed two small boxes of treats on her way out.
    “Have a sweet day!” she yelled as the bells jingled.
    “You too, sugar,” Constance called back.
    It was their lame little ritual, but it made Constance happy, and even Dulcie had to admit, she usually left with a grin on her face.
    She flipped the sign to open as she left and dodged a car in the side parking lot, then snuck down the alley behind the store—her usual