Cinnamon Bun Besties

by Stacia Deutsch

  CURL UP WITH ALL OF THE SWRL NOVELS!

  Pumpkin Spice Secrets by Hillary Homzie

  Peppermint Cocoa Crushes by Laney Nielson

  Cinnamon Bun Besties by Stacia Deutsch

  Salted Caramel Dreams by Jackie Nastri Bardenwerper

  Copyright © 2018 by Stacia Deutsch

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without the express written consent of the publisher, except in the case of brief excerpts in critical reviews or articles. All inquiries should be addressed to Sky Pony Press, 307 West 36th Street, 11th Floor, New York, NY 10018.

  First Edition

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are from the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

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  Sky Pony® is a registered trademark of Skyhorse Publishing, Inc.®, a Delaware corporation.

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  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on file.

  Cover design by Liz Casal

  Cover photo credit: iStock

  HArdcover ISBN: 978-1-5107-3047-2

  Ebook ISBN: 978-1-5107-3013-7

  Printed in the United States of America

  Chapter One

  CARD CLASH

  Monday, January 31

  Two weeks until Valentine’s Day

  “I’ll do it, Mrs. Choi.” I raised my hand. To make certain that my teacher saw me, I waved. My heavy bracelet jingled like tiny bells as the charms smacked against each other. I loved that sound. It energized me to shake my hand a little harder. “I want to be in charge of this year’s Cupid Candy Cards.”

  I knew the job was already mine, but Mrs. Choi took her time looking around at the other students on the Fort Lupton Middle School student council. We were a small group of representatives from the sixth, seventh, and eighth grades. Two boys and two girls were voted in from each grade, and this was the second time I’d been voted by my classmates to be on the council. Last year in sixth grade, when I worked on the Valentine’s Day Cupid Candy Cards fund-raiser, we made the most money for the school in the history of the project. No joke. That was awesome.

  And because we made so much money, the middle school spring dance was epic. We paid for an amazing DJ! She played the best music, threw out lighted necklaces, and gave everyone these funny socks to slip around in.

  No one said it out loud, but I knew that because of all my hard work, I’d get to lead the Cupid Cards project this time around.

  “Thanks for stepping up, Suki,” Mrs. Choi said when no one else volunteered to be the coordinator. She had a pencil tucked over her ear. Pushing back her short brown hair, she tugged it out and made a note on a pad of paper. “Is there anyone else who—”

  With a whoosh and a bang, the door to the classroom swung open. “Sorry I’m late.” Joshua Juaquin hurried into the room and settled himself into an empty seat at the back. JJ was one of the boys voted in from my class. “I was playing soccer and lost track of time.” Student council met at the end of lunch. Typical JJ, trying to squeeze too many activities into his lunch break.

  When I glanced over my shoulder at him, I could see JJ’s cheeks were flushed pink and there were beads of sweat in his short brown hair. JJ caught me staring, so he winked. I rolled my eyes at him and quickly turned away.

  “No problem. We were just getting started. Welcome, JJ.” Even the teachers called him that. I think it took the pressure off everyone, since his mom was the mayor. If no one said his last name out loud, they could forget about the connection.

  “Now, where were we?” Mrs. Choi looked down at a piece of paper on her desk. “Oh, right, Suki Randolph wants to lead the Cupid Card Commit—” Our teacher hadn’t even finished the sentence when JJ’s hand shot up.

  With a deep breath, I twirled a strand of my long, straight, black hair and closed my eyes. I knew exactly what was about to happen. This wasn’t the first time that JJ had challenged me for something important. It was, in fact, the eighth time. Not that I’m keeping score, or anything petty like that. And to be perfectly honest, some of those times, I’d challenged him.

  “I want to lead the Cupid Notes project,” JJ proclaimed.

  “It’s ‘Cupid Cards,’” I hissed under my breath. Then, louder, I exclaimed, “Ouch,” when I got kicked in the leg.

  “Shhh, Suki,” Marley Renault whispered.

  My next-door neighbor and best friend, Marley, was sitting next to me. She was also on the council. I was tall and a little out of shape with slightly tan skin and very straight hair, whereas Marley was super skinny, short, with very dark skin, and had this insane mess of hair that stood out at all angles. Years ago, we bonded over the fact that neither of us could do anything nice with our hair. Complaining brought us together.

  “Suki,” Marley whispered, leaning in toward me. “JJ is going after your job.”

  “I know,” I whispered back. “I hate him.”

  I said that a lot, and Marley always replied, “There’s not much space between love and hate.” That’s a line from some song Marley likes. Marley said it fit for me and JJ. She insists I’ve had a crush on him since fourth grade.

  She’s wrong. Even though I love Valentine’s Day, I’m not interested in romance. I like the idea of falling in love and all that stuff, but when I’m older, for sure not now. I have better things to do, and a boyfriend would take up too much time. I’d seen what could happen. A long time ago, there were four of us who were besties, two of them started “dating” and totally betrayed us. Even though we were still in the same school, we hadn’t all been friends again ever since.

  Besides, who would I want to date? Certainly not JJ.

  “No love,” I assured her. “My heart is a bottomless black hole for JJ.”

  “Yeah, right. Whatever.” Marley leaned back in her chair, her head bobbing softly to whatever musical tune was rolling through her brain. Probably one she was making up. She made up a lot of songs.

  “We all know why Suki wants the coordinator position,” Mrs. Choi told JJ. “But why do you want it, JJ?” She pinned him with a serious stare and said, “Convince me.”

  Instead of him looking at our teacher, I swore I could feel beams from JJ’s eyes shooting darts at the back of my head. My skin prickled.

  “Valentine’s Day is my favorite holiday,” JJ began.

  I wanted to leap up out of my chair and shout “Liar!” But that wouldn’t be cool. Besides, I didn’t actually know what his favorite holiday was, since I’d barely talked to him in the past three years. Still, the chance that it was Valentine’s Day was really small.

  I tapped my fingers on the desk in front of me while he went on.

  “Honestly, I’ve never led anything like this before, but I think I could do a good job. I have a few ideas on how to raise more money.”

  “Impossible,” I muttered.

  The cards worked like this: It cost students a dollar to send a heart-shaped card with a lollipop to anyone at school. That was a Cupid Card. Buyers could send them to a friend, a crush, a teacher … anyone. All student council members got excused from fourth period class so the cards could all get delivered. And the cards—paper heart and attached candy—only cost ten cents each to make, so we turned a 90 percent profit! Last year we raised over $300 to use for the school’s spring dance. That was enough f
or the DJ, but there was no way we could ever top last year. I was only hoping to match our sales.

  “We can double our take,” JJ told the council. “The dance this year will be extra-epic! We can have a live band instead of a boring DJ, professional dancers to teach us moves, and get some kickin’ prizes for the best moves.” He wiggled in his seat, slamming his head toward the desk, as if that was some kind of dancing.

  “Wrong,” I blurted out. I reined my tone in to a calm voice and told JJ, “You’re wrong.”

  Mrs. Choi stopped me. “Suki, obey the rules of respect, please. You can share your opinion, but do it nicely.” Mrs. Choi was all about “self-empowerment and personal growth.” There was a poster that said that on her classroom wall.

  “Okay.” I turned to JJ and said with a small smirk, “I respectfully disagree.”

  Though I was calm on the outside, my heart was beating hard against my ribs as I stood up to continue. I became very aware of my outfit—black leggings with holes in the knees and an I dogs sweatshirt that my mom bought for me. The shirt was a little cheesy, but it’s true. I do heart dogs.

  My skin felt hot and scratchy under that sweatshirt as I stared at JJ.

  “Your idea won’t work,” I protested, and began to make my case like a TV lawyer. “Last year we sold three hundred and fifty cards.” Since I’d worked on the project and JJ hadn’t, I added, “We maxed out. Kids won’t buy more than that. It’s not like every kid in the school buys them. Some can’t afford them. Some don’t want to give them out. Some think Valentine’s Day is dumb. Some—”

  It was as if I hadn’t spoken at all. “We could easily sell a thousand Candy Canes this year,” JJ argued, also standing up.

  Augh! “Cards,” I hissed this time out loud. “You don’t even know what they are called! They’re Cupid Cards!”

  “A thousand Cupid Cards, then,” he amended. “Think of all the money we’d make.”

  We both started doing the math at the same time. At a dollar a note, minus our cost …

  “That means we’d earn …” I started.

  “Nine hundred dollars,” JJ finished. “Easy.” Ack. How’d he get that math done before me? I knew I had a higher grade in math class than him. After our last quiz, I’d looked over our teacher’s shoulder and peeked at her computer screen.

  “There are only six hundred and fifteen kids in the school.” I was gearing up to repeat myself, since he obviously hadn’t heard me before. “Not everyone buys a card. Sure, some buy a few, but it’s not nearly what you think.”

  “I can fix that,” JJ insisted. His gaze was pinned on me, and it felt like the rest of the student council and our teacher weren’t there anymore. There was a fire in his dull, bland eyes. “I bet we can sell way more than a thousand.”

  My voice rose as I argued against him. “You weren’t involved last year, so you don’t have a clue how this works.” He hadn’t been on student council, but now he was, in addition to being captain of the soccer team and a lead in the school play.

  Some people thought it was because his mom was the mayor that JJ got pretty much anything he wanted. I didn’t know what I thought about the impact of his mom. I mean, I would never say this out loud, but JJ was pretty good at everything he tried, so maybe he deserved it all.

  At this moment, though, it didn’t matter if his mom was Queen of the Entire Universe. He wasn’t going to win this battle.

  “We can—” he started.

  “No way,” I interrupted as I moved away from my desk and took a huge step toward him. “We’ll never sell a thousand Cupid Cards!”

  I flashed back to the end of the fifth-grade spelling bee when it was just me and him for the finals. I was sure I’d won it all when he got an easy word and stole the trophy. I got him back in the sixth-grade geography bowl. The smallest country on earth? He blew it. The answer was the Vatican. The trophy was mine!

  For two people who barely spoke, we were incredibly competitive with each other.

  He came toward me. “You’re being a bummer, Suki.”

  That was a personal insult. Mrs. Choi probably should have jumped in, but she didn’t. I’m sure she wanted us to “work it out,” and was just watching to see what would happen. That was so like her!

  “I’m not a bummer,” I countered. “I’m realistic. You’re such a dreamer, you think millions of Cupid Cards are going to magically appear at school and money for the dance will rain from the sky!”

  “You—” he started.

  “You—” I said at the same time.

  “Enough!” Mrs. Choi ended the argument. I guess she’d decided we couldn’t handle things after all.

  I stepped back toward my desk and, with a final huff, turned away from JJ. My heart was beating hard. Arguing with raised voices wasn’t my style. But, deep inside, I had to admit, it felt good to tell JJ what I was thinking. I wished I’d done that back in fourth grade, when this battle between us first started.

  Mrs. Choi let a long silent pause hang in the air before peering at us both with those serious teacher eyes.

  “Suki Randolph and Joshua Juaquin, you will work together to organize the Valentine’s Day Cupid Candy Cards project. You don’t have a lot of time, so get started right away.” With a click of her tongue and a tough squint at each of us, Mrs. Choi made it clear that there was no further discussion on the point. Her decision was final. Right before she moved to the next item on the student council meeting agenda, she added, “Good luck.”

  Chapter Two

  DOGGONE IT

  Two dreadful hours later

  “I hate him.”

  “Really? Are you sure about that?”

  “Ugh.” I let out a huge sigh. My breath looked like smoke in the cool winter air. “Yes. Positive.” I zipped up my coat.

  Marley and I were walking home from school. I’d insisted we go through the park because I needed the extra time to blow off some steam. Plus, it was pretty where we lived—in a small city at the base of a mountain. The park was in the middle of our neighborhood. There were apartments lining one side and houses on the other sides. Beyond those, streets with bigger houses fanned out in every direction.

  In the center of the grassy area were benches and some very tall trees. At the far end was a really nice jungle gym and a fenced-in dog park. Even when I was little, I liked going there to watch the dogs running around and playing.

  I’ve never had a dog, but it was still one of my favorite places in town.

  Thinking that watching dogs play would shake my mood, I walked with Marley up to the wire fence and peered in. We didn’t have snowy winters, but the afternoons could get really chilly this time of year. Today was pretty cold, so there was just one big dog running around.

  A husky mix, I thought. I considered asking the owner—who was on a bench, looking at his phone—if I could toss the dog a stick. Playing with a dog seemed like a good idea. My whole body felt like it was tied in a giant knot. Mom was a yoga teacher, and I knew what she’d say about it, but I was sure that some deep breathing would not help this situation.

  As I reached for the gate to the dog park, the owner called “Skylar! Come!” and the husky bounded over. They were leaving. Sigh. I was too late.

  I stomped the ground as we left.

  Turning to Marley, I asked, “Did you see the way JJ looked at me after Mrs. Choi said we’d have to work together?” I imitated his stupid grin. “I hate him.”

  Marley didn’t respond, but I knew what her silence meant.

  No. No. No! I didn’t like JJ, no matter what she thought. Not even a tiny bit. I gagged loudly at the idea.

  We walked in silence over the thick green grass, past the swing set, and onto the sidewalk on the other side.

  “Can we go around again?” I asked Marley. I had homework waiting for me, but once across the park wasn’t enough to calm me down. I was so mad, it would take a million miles of walking for me to feel normal.

  “You’re killing the grass with all that c
lomping,” she responded, quickly singing out, “Like a single glove, the earth is crying for a little love …”

  “Who wrote that?”

  She rolled her eyes at me. “Me, of course.”

  “Not half bad.” I shrugged, not sure I understood the connection between a glove and the earth, but Marley knew what it meant and that’s all that mattered. It was her song. “Play it for me later?” I asked. That would get my mind off what happened at student council.

  Marley couldn’t resist sharing her music. She nodded and said, “We can video chat.” Then she glanced at the time on her phone and said, “We should head home. There’s homework to do and I have drum lessons tonight.” She shoved her phone in her pocket and did an air drum thing with her hands, as if she was playing a big solo.

  Even though her parents hoped Marley would be interested in medicine, like both of them, she dreamed about being in a rock band and was totally focused on that goal. She didn’t just play drums—Marley sang in the school choir and was learning how to work a light and sound board that she’d bought on the Internet. And she was trying to start a neighborhood band that would practice in her garage on weekends and “play gigs” when they were ready. So far, the Happy Little Llamas was only two people, but they were looking for someone who played guitar to join. Soon, they’d be a real band.

  I stood straighter as I said, “I bet JJ’s not going to want to help organize the Cupid Cards once he finds out how much work it is. He’ll probably quit.”

  “And leave you as the only leader?” Marley fake choked. “Don’t count on it.”

  “Bah.” I stuck out my tongue. “Look who’s being a ‘bummer’ now.” I glanced at my best friend and frowned. “What am I going to do? I can’t work with him!”

  “You’re gonna have to—” Marley stopped mid-thought as we reached our street. We lived on a cul-de-sac a few blocks from the park. I lived at the center of one end and her house was to the right of mine.

  “Is that a dog barking?” I tipped my head and listened hard.

  No one around us had a dog. Believe me, I would know. I’d been begging my parents to get me one for almost a year. They said I wasn’t responsible enough. Mom wasn’t home all day because she was teaching people how to bend into pretzel shapes, and Dad traveled for work as an engineer. Every time I asked, which was practically every day, the answer was “No.” All the promises in the world wouldn’t change their minds.