A Note from AvaViolet

Hey Everyone! Thank you so much to everyone who participated in that third round, I loved reading all the entries! If you didn't win this time, don't worry, there is one last opportunity to continue the story and get a $100 gift card to Tim Hortons! Congratulations to MMoriBooks for their winning part. Here is my continuation from that, I hope you all enjoy! You will be FINISHING the story from here, so make sure to give it a conclusion and ending! Don't forget to tag your post with #TimsEspresssYourself. Good luck and thank you so much for participating, this has been so fun! I can't wait to read what you've come up with for the ending of Aria's story!

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Part 6: Written by MMoriBooks

Smoke billowed out from my oven once I yanked the door open. Terrified, I searched for something to pull the burning cakes out.

"This can't be happening!"

I jumped at the sound of sudden knocking on my door. But before I could ask who was there, the door swung open and Isaac stepped inside.

"Isaac! What are you doing here!?" I gasped.

He didn't answer, but looked to the oven. Then, he raced into the kitchen and grabbed the dish rag I hadn't spotted beside a bowl of fruit. Isaac yanked out the cakes, setting them onto the stove top.

"Was your plan to burn down the entire apartment and my cake with it? Seems like a cheap way to win," he smirked, tossing the rag back onto the counter.

But I couldn't make a witty comeback, or even scowl. I stepped towards the burnt remains of my hope, blackened and charred in their pans.

Isaac said nothing, but I could feel his eyes on me as I poked the cakes, wincing at how they had hardened. There was nothing left of the inspiration I found from Grandma and Tim Hortons. Frustrated, I wiped at my tears.

"Hey now, it's okay," Isaac murmured, though I could hear his surprise. "It's just a silly competition. Besides, I would've beaten you anyway," he joked in an attempt to cheer me.

"No," I whimpered. "This wasn't just about winning. This was about remembering Grandma and the time we spent together before she died."

I hadn't known it when I first entered the competition, but it was true. Baking was the best way I had to remember her, to prove to myself she wasn't truly gone. Along with the Cinnamon Caramel Oat Latte, she had inspired me to keep baking.

Isaac looked again at the cakes, his brow furrowing. Then, very gently, he placed a hand on my shoulder and gave an encouraging squeeze.

"It's going to take forever to clean up this mess and there's not much time left. Why don't you come over and use my kitchen to bake a new batch of cakes? I'll even help. It looks like you seriously need it."

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Part 7: Written by AvaViolet

Who is this kind person and what has he done to the Isaac I know and loathe? And why is his smile making my knees weak? I'm supposed to be impervious to his smile!

"Come on, I'll help you bring over any ingredients you may need," he says, loading a bag with the ingredients I've left out on the counter.

I place a hand on his arm to stop him, then immediately retract it. "Is this a trick or something? Are you trying to sabotage me?"

His eyebrows draw together. "Why would I try to sabotage you?"

"To win."

He laughs. "I'd win anyway. I don't need to sabotage you."

Jerk. There's the Isaac I know and loathe. So why are my knees still weak?

"So then why are you helping me?"

He drops the ingredients on the counter. "You can't not enter. If you don't enter, you can't come in second place, and if you don't come in second place, who will I gloat to when I win first?"

The competitive fire within me blazes at his words. Any hopelessness I was feeling completely leaves me. I'm going to win. For me. For Grandma June. For bragging rights over Isaac.

"That's awfully confident for a guy who's going to lose to me, to the best damn cake anyone in Northtown's ever tasted," I say.

His smile grows, cocky and amused. "And you're awfully confident for a girl with five hours and no cake."

I begin gathering ingredients that I'll need to use. My kitchen is a mess. His is clean. Plus, to save time, I'll have to make smaller layers so they'll bake faster, which means I'll need to use some of his pans.

"That's plenty of time. Grab my icing, it's perfectly fine. I just need to re-bake the cake."

He gathers the container of my icing as well as all the ingredients laying out. I throw out the burnt cakes and leave the pans in the sink.

"I'll accept your help," I say, "but you can't be around when I bake. And you can't touch any of the ingredients. I don't want you saying I only beat you because you helped."

He leads me out of my apartment and into his. "Then what am I supposed to do?"

"Let me use your kitchen. And wash my pans. And lend me some of yours. And run to Tim Hortons and grab me a Cinnamon Caramel Oat Latte. I need to refuel and get reinspired."

"Were you always this bossy?" he asks me as he sets my stuff down on his counter. It's perfectly clean and his mixing bowl is already out, as if waiting for me to use it.

"Yes," I state, whipping the ingredients out of the bags and setting them down. I can do this. I've made cakes with less time before. I was lacking the inspiration, but now I have it. I know what I'm doing, I just need to execute now.

I don't see Isaac's cake anywhere and that's a good thing. I don't want to compare or get psyched out. He watches me flutter around his kitchen with a slight smirk, and now that I'm not impervious to his smile, it's making me nervous.

I turn to him. "I said you can't be here."

He stands from where he was leaning. "Yeah, yeah. I'll bring your pans over then grab you your latte from Tims."

I throw ingredients into the mixing bowl without measuring. "Great. Bye."

He chuckles and retreats to the door. "You're the best, Isaac. Thanks so much for being the most awesomest person I've ever met," he says in a voice I'm assuming is supposed to imitate mine.

"I'm not saying all that," I deadpan, then remember he is being helpful despite being my mortal enemy. My voice softens. "Thanks, Isaac."

He smiles at me, and it's so genuine and not at all like his cocky smirks that I forget where I am for a second. Focus! "Okay, now get out and don't come back unless it's with my pans and Tims Latte."

And he does. I'm left alone to bake and recall that special magic that always happened when I baked with Grandma June. Since I'm making it for a second time, I'm able to adjust flavours where it's needed and make the batter even better then the first time. Isaac only pops in briefly to bring the baking pans and deliver my Tims Latte. It's even better than it smelled, and rejuvenates my creativity and confidence even more.

By the time the cakes are baked, cooled, and iced, I know I can win this thing.

"Hey," Isaac pops in. "We've only got 30 minutes to get down there. Are you ready?"

"Yes," I say. "I'm ready."

Isaac must be in a generous mood, because he volunteers to drive us to Northtown's Town Hall for judging, which I accept, because I don't have a car and I'm feeling trusting. Isaac's cake is in a box, so I don't see it at all. And when we enter the town hall, I'm ushered to a spot on the opposite side of Isaac. There are so many people here, and I was so wrapped up in my rivalry with Isaac, I forgot that I'm not just competing against him, I'm competing against all the bakers in Northtown.

But looking at my Cinnamon Caramel Oat Latte inspired cake with my number beside it for anonymous judging, I know I have a fighting chance. I spot Isaac on the other side of the hall, and he gives me a wave. I want to win, but maybe if I don't, I've still gained something else.

But it's out of my hands now. I'll have to wait for what the judges say.

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Now, it's your turn! Submit the ending of the story below in the comments section of this chapter. It's the last chapter, so make sure to wrap up the story however you feel fits! Make sure you tag it with #TimsEspressYourself to enter. Entries must include all Submission Requirements. Deadline to enter the next part is December 19 at 11:59 PM EST.

The winner's part will go live on December 21st! Thank you all for participating in this Short Story!