Her hand and the spoon dropped to her side, and Alice felt this overwhelming need to turn the bowl of batter over onto Frank's head and storm out of the room. She could do it, too, just one quick swish and splat. How could he not want the cake! He was supposed to want the cake. Alice felt her face heat up almost violently, and she turned back to the bowl and jammed the spoon rather hard, making it rattle against the counter.
Oh, oh. Now he really wasn't going to get any cake. Or sex. Franklin Tybalt Longbottom was not going to get cake or sex on his twentieth birthday and that was that.
"So what did you and James talk about?" she said, attempting to sound uncaring, but the sharpness of her tone was clearly evident, and frankly (FRANKLY!) she did not care.
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