by Mere Joyce
I’m angry with Austin. I’m angry with the other boy who said nothing while a girl he likes was bullied. I’m angry with everyone who has ever stood by while the same thing happened to me. But mostly I’m angry with myself. I could have stepped in to defend Katrina, and I didn’t. I didn’t do anything because I was scared Austin would hurt me just like he was hurting her.
I look around the kitchen for some tissue I can use to dry my eyes. I think about Austin. I think about every time he has made me nervous or afraid. I think about every time I have held back tears so he wouldn’t see me cry.
I find a roll of paper towel next to the sink. I tear off a piece and dab my eyes. Then I look around at the dark kitchen. I’ve always tried to hide my love of cooking because I knew it would give Austin ammunition. But I’m sick of planning my life around his attacks. I love food. And I love cooking.
The only thing I don’t love is Austin’s cruddy attitude.
I rest my elbows on the prep counter. After Austin started teasing me, I began to see the world differently. After what just happened to Katrina, I’m seeing things differently again. Looking at this kitchen laid out before me, I’m getting an idea.
For years I’ve given Austin and others like him so much power. Seeing Katrina crushed down has made me realize it is finally time to take some of that power back.
I spend the next half hour in the kitchen, walking and thinking. I drip rainwater everywhere. The staff will know someone has been in here when they start preparing for lunch. But I’m not worried. Finally I head into the dining hall to wait for the others to arrive for our daily team meeting.
By the time everyone starts rushing in out of the rain, I have a plan. My throat is dry as I wait for the members of my team to arrive. I swallow hard before I get up and make my way over to our table.
Ollie’s sunglasses are on top of his head. I wonder briefly why he’s even wearing them. He looks bored. His fingers tap a silent rhythm against his thigh as he watches Audrey putting up her wet hair. Austin is staring at his phone. None of them notice my approach.
“We’re not doing apple bobbing at the farmers’ market,” I say in as firm a voice as I can muster. All three of them jump when I speak.
Austin is quick to recover. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” he asks. He gives me a nasty look.
My gut reaction is to turn away from him. But I force myself to stare into his eyes instead. It is something I’ve never done, and it is so unexpected it makes him twitch.
“We’re not going with your idea, Austin,” I repeat. My voice is steady despite how nervous I am. I walk closer to his seat so I can stand over him, big and tall and strong. “I take back my vote. And I’m making another suggestion.” I glance at Audrey. Then I focus my attention on Ollie. “I think we should serve food,” I say. “I can cook. I’m good with food.”
Austin scoffs, but Ollie doesn’t give him time to make a joke.
“That could work,” he says. “What kind of food would we serve?” His expression has changed from bored to excited. His eagerness fuels my confidence.
“I was thinking we could do wraps,” I tell him. “And pie rolls for dessert.” I remember the joke Austin made about my one-person pie-eating contest. As mean as the joke was, it did give me the perfect idea for our menu. “We can make everything using local ingredients from the market vendors. And my dad owns a food truck,” I say. “I’m sure he would let us use it for the day.”
“I went to a food truck once that served the best turkey club,” Audrey pipes up. She looks as enthusiastic as Ollie does. I’m surprised. I expected her to argue against my idea. Maybe she has realized how dull it is to sit around doing nothing on the project. Or maybe she is done flirting with Austin. Whatever it is, it’s nice to have the support.
“A food truck would be awesome!” Ollie says.
I crouch down and rest my arms on the table. Then I look back at Austin. He is furious. I’m tempted to shy away from his angry expression. But I don’t. I force myself to give him a hard, serious look.
“And the best part is, we’ve already got the name.”
“Yeah, and what is that?” Austin asks. His voice is thin. Somehow I know he is trying to be tough but can’t quite manage it.
“My dad’s food truck is called The Hungry Pup,” I explain. “There’s a big cartoon dog on the side of it. He can be our mascot.” I continue to stare at Austin until he begins to fidget in his seat. Then I let out a long breath. “We can call our stall Roll Over.”
Chapter Eleven
I’ve known Austin Parks since we were both ten years old. In all that time, I’ve never seen him speechless.
Until now.
“Roll Over?” Ollie asks while Austin stares at me in silence. My heart is pounding. I’m terrified by Austin’s look. But I’m also proud of making him look that way.
“It’s kind of an inside joke,” I say. I keep my eyes on Austin as I speak. Then I look at my other teammates again. Ollie is giving Austin a dark stare. Audrey is looking at me with a sympathetic smile. I’ve spilled Austin’s secret. At least part of it. It is embarrassing. But it is also a relief. They know about his teasing. And I got to be the one to tell them.
“The name also ties in with the dog on the side of the truck,” I add. “And that’s where I got the idea for what kind of foods we can serve.”
“Okay, I get it,” Ollie says after a minute. He looks at me with a smile. I take a deep breath before smiling back.
“My dad makes pie rolls in his truck. Handheld desserts perfect for shoppers wanting to eat on the go. And our wraps are rolls too, when you think of it.”
“Sounds good to me!” says Audrey. “Are you going to do all the cooking?”
“Yes.” I move around the table and sit between her and Ollie. Austin is across from me. He still looks shocked. “Making wraps is just like making sandwiches. And I’ve been baking pie rolls with my parents since I was little.”
“Do you really think we can pull this off?” Audrey asks. “We’ve only got a few days.”
I nod. “It will be tight. But if we get organized and make a plan, we can prep some of the things ahead of time. We should be okay. But we need to make sure there is an onsite kitchen at the market where we can store everything until we bring it into the truck.”
“We can talk to the counselors about it,” Ollie says. “They’ll know the layout of the building.”
“I’ll work on some signs,” Audrey says with a grin. “If we need to, we can ask the market vendors for spare cardboard.”
“Hold on,” Ollie says. He stands up. “I’ll grab a notebook from one of the other teams. We need to start writing this all down.”
Ollie leaves, and Audrey turns to Austin.
“Do you want to help me with the signs?” she asks.
He doesn’t even look at her. His eyes are trained on me. I’m sure he is planning his revenge, and I would be lying if I said it didn’t frighten me. But I can’t focus on that. Right now I’m working on our project. I’m taking on the leadership role I came to this retreat to develop.
“Austin is not going to help,” I tell Audrey. She looks back and forth between us. Then she pulls out her ponytail and busies herself with putting it up again. Austin continues to stare at me, saying nothing.
When Ollie returns we spend the next hour planning. We write out different menu options. I also show Audrey a picture of my dad’s truck so she can copy the cartoon dog onto our signs. It feels good to be productive. It doesn’t even matter if we are a day behind the other teams. We’re working now. And we’re putting together something that is going to be great.
When the team sessions end, we have everything outlined. Audrey is excited to start painting the signs. Ollie is going to figure out how we can get the best prices on the ingredients we need so we can stay within our budget.
Austin never leaves the table. He doesn’t pitch in any ideas or even make fun of the ones we toss around. He doesn’t say anything.
He just sits there, never taking his eyes off me. It’s awful. But I survive it without needing to run away or pretend I’m someplace else.
He stays until the last. And so do I. I’m not sure why I don’t leave when the others do. I could get up and walk away before Austin has a chance to get me alone. But I don’t want to imagine what he might have said to me. I would rather know it firsthand.
I gather the papers I’ve scribbled on. Then I glance at Austin. As always, he looks cold and mean. But he also looks a bit broken. Which could be dangerous.
“Bad choice, Jelly Roll,” he says.
For a moment I don’t respond. But this time it’s not out of fear. There are a million things I could say to Austin right now. I just don’t want to waste any more of my time on this boy.
“Good choice,” I counter. I stand up and walk past him on my way out of the dining hall. I notice that his fists are clenched so tight his knuckles have turned white.
Chapter Twelve
“This place is awesome,” Sarah says. Her legs dangle over the edge of the small counter inside my dad’s food truck. I shoo her off. Her sandals smack loudly against the floor as she hops down.
I place a tray of uncooked blueberry pie rolls on the counter. “It’s a bit cramped,” I say with a grin. “But I love it in here.”
“Your dad really doesn’t mind lending it to us for the farmers’ market?” she asks. She hands me a carton of eggs, and I grab a fork from a nearby drawer.
“The Hungry Pup is only open during the day on Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays. It’s fine for us to use it tomorrow.” It is Saturday night. My parents drove the truck up here a couple of hours ago. Tomorrow is the day of the farmers’ market, and then the Young Leaders retreat will be over.
I’m excited to go home. I want to sleep in my own bed and cook in my own kitchen. But it has been a lot of fun planning our food. I am excited about tomorrow, but I’m still worried about Austin. Since we changed our plans, the only thing he’s done is sulk. I wish I could enjoy the peace. I’m worried it is the calm before the storm.
“We’re here!”
Sarah and I both look to the door as Meera and Katrina carry in a big cooler. Ollie comes in after them with a second cooler of his own. My cabinmates didn’t need to help us set everything up, but I’m happy they offered. It’s good to have extra help—especially since a member of our team isn’t helping at all. It’s also nice to have company while I’m working. It’s actually kind of fun having others nearby to watch me create.
“Great. Put the coolers there, and we can start packing up the pie rolls.” I point to a free bit of counter near the fridge. Sarah helps with the packing, while I get to work crimping the edges of the pie crusts.
“How are we doing?” Ollie asks as he lowers a tray of peach pie rolls into his cooler. We weren’t able to find all fresh ingredients. But some of the vendors had frozen fruit from last season’s crop, so we have managed to get a nice selection of fillings. We have toppings for the wraps as well. We made some of them earlier today. The rest we’ll make tomorrow morning.
“I think we are pretty much finished,” I tell him. “These blueberry pie rolls are almost ready to go in the oven. The wraps are packed up. All that’s left are the apple pie rolls. I’ll make those tonight before I go to bed.”
“Then I guess we’re all set,” he says. “Audrey is already finished her signs. We’ll take the supplies into the market soon.”
The farmers’ market is close to the campground we’re staying at for the retreat. We’ll store our food in the building’s staff kitchen overnight.
“I can’t believe it’s all working out.” Ollie smiles. “I’m so glad you changed your mind.”
“Why did you change your mind anyway?” Sarah asks. “I mean, it’s a good thing you did. But what happened?”
I look quickly at Katrina. She has been keeping to herself since the incident earlier this week. As far as I know, she hasn’t told anyone what happened. I didn’t tell her I saw it, but that evening when we were all getting ready for bed, I went over to her bunk. When no one else was nearby I whispered, “It’s going to be okay, Katrina.” She looked at me and then turned to face the wall. But I think she knew what I meant. If she ever wants to talk, I hope she knows she can count on me to listen.
“I saw things from a different perspective,” I say with a shrug. I finish crimping the pies rolls and start brushing the crusts with egg so they will be golden once they are baked. “Austin has ruined enough. I couldn’t let him ruin this too.”
“Do you think he’ll help out tomorrow?” Meera asks.
Ollie and I exchange glances.
“I doubt it,” Ollie says. “I’d be surprised if he even sticks around. It wouldn’t be hard for him to sneak away and blow off the whole farmers’ market.”
Austin wants to fail. If the counselors see that he is absent tomorrow, he won’t pass. Maybe he will get his wish and never have to come back. I don’t really care.
“So he’ll go through the whole week without doing any work?” Katrina asks. “It’s not fair. People like him, they shouldn’t get their way. But they always do.”
“Not always,” I say. “People like Austin have their reasons for being jerks. They’re not good reasons, but they are reasons. They try to control others to make up for what they can’t control themselves.” I finish brushing the pie crusts and smile up at Katrina. “It’s his problem, not ours,” I say.
Katrina eyes me carefully. By the way her face brightens as she nods, I think she understands.
Chapter Thirteen
I stay up late making pies.
The camp’s kitchen is quiet after curfew. The counselors gave me special permission to finish baking before I go to bed. I even have a proper key to lock up when I’m done.
I set out my ingredients for the apple pie rolls. These are my favorites. Buttery puffs of pastry with gooey, sweet apple filling. I might have to taste-test one of them once they’re baked. Maybe two.
I start blending the butter and flour for the pastry. When I hear the kitchen door open, I don’t even look up from my bowl.
“You’re supposed to be in your cabin,” I say, thinking it’s Sarah or Ollie. When no one answers, I raise my head.
Austin is standing across from me. I freeze.
He stares at me, his expression impossible to read. I swallow. I want to step back, but I force myself to stand my ground. I’m not going to let him bully me. Right now this is my kitchen. He can’t boss me around here.
“What are you doing, Austin?” I ask. I’m glad my voice doesn’t shake.
“Making dessert, Jelly Roll?” Austin asks. He looks at the counter. He eyes the pile of apples I still need to skin and slice.
“Pie rolls,” I tell him. He steps up to the counter. My heart pounds hard in my chest when he grabs the knife lying next to the fruit. He grips the handle. I make sure I have a clear way to the exit.
“I used to make apple pies with my dad,” Austin says. His words are quiet as he lifts the knife. He grabs an apple. He cuts into it and starts peeling off the skin.
My head is dizzy with relief and confusion. I watch him for a moment, stunned. He knows what he’s doing. He expertly peels off the skin and slices the apple. I take a deep breath before I continue making the pastry.
“I make apple pies with my dad too,” I say after a minute.
Austin grunts. “I said used to. My dad doesn’t do anything with me anymore. Not since…”
I look at him. His head is lowered over the counter.
“You don’t like his girlfriend?” I ask. I don’t know why I’m even talking to him. I should be telling him to leave me alone. But he’s doing a good job cutting up the apple. Besides, I’ve never seen Austin like this before. He doesn’t look angry or scary. He looks sad.
“She doesn’t like me,” Austin says. He finishes the first apple and starts on another. “That’s why she sent me here. She wanted to get rid of me for a while. So
she could have my dad all to herself.”
“Oh.” I don’t know what to say. I can’t imagine how it would feel to be totally ignored by your parents, to not feel wanted. “Does your dad know about our stall idea for tomorrow?”
“No,” Austin says. “He wouldn’t care. He’ll come by to pick me up. I bet he won’t even ask what we did.”
“You could tell him,” I say. “When he comes to pick you up, you can bring him to the food truck. We’re going to do a good job tomorrow. Think about it. What if our stall raised the most money out of everyone here? Wouldn’t your dad be proud of that?”
Austin pauses mid-slice. His head tilts to one side as he thinks about what I’ve said.
“Maybe,” he mutters at last. He says it like he might actually agree with me.
Austin slices the rest of the second apple and grabs a third. I don’t say anything else as I finish making the pastry. We work side by side in silence. When all of the apples are sliced, Austin drops the knife on the counter and leaves without a word.
Chapter Fourteen
I go to the market early the next morning. The Young Leaders won’t open their stalls for another three hours. But I want to make sure there is plenty of time to set up. I unlock the food truck and get the generator going. It will take a while for the fridge to get cold enough. We’ll keep all the food we prepared inside the main building until the truck’s ready.
The rest of my team will be coming over a little closer to opening time. For now I’m the only Granite County Young Leader who has arrived. There are already a few vendors in the market though. I pass meat counters and smell freshly baked bread in the building’s main area. I also walk by a stall full of jam and jelly jars. But it is quiet in the hallway leading to the kitchen.
At least, it is nearly quiet. The farther I walk down the hallway, the more aware I am of thrashing and thudding noises in the distance. When I reach the kitchen door, I know the noises are coming from inside. My skin breaks out in a cold sweat as I turn the knob and pull the door open.
