by Coco Simon
“And why is she going to his house tomorrow?” pressed Dylan.
I stalled a bit, but then I had to admit it. “To work on the science fair project,” I mumbled.
“Aha! I rest my case!” said Dylan, standing up and jamming her feet into the awesome rainbow wedge sandals she got with her holiday money from our grandma.
She picked up her purse and looked at me triumphantly. “My work here is done. Now, get out of my room.”
“So you don’t think they’re dating?” I asked, inching to the doorway. I wanted to prolong this conversation as long as I could.
“Nope. Don’t worry,” said Dylan, flicking off her light switch and pulling her door closed. “But whatever you do, don’t mention her to him if you see him. You never want a guy to think you’re jealous or even aware of the competition.”
“Huh. That’s what Mia said,” I said to Dylan as she clumped down the hall to the stairs.
“See! Mia was always my favorite,” Dylan called back up the stairs.
I stood in the upstairs hall for a minute, thinking. “Hey, Dyl?”
“What?” she called up in aggravation.
“Don’t you need socks?”
“I’m not actually going to bowl!” she yelled indignantly. “It would ruin my pedicure!”
I rolled my eyes. Whatever. I can’t imagine going to a bowling alley and not bowling. I mean, what else is there to do, anyway?
That night when my mom came to tuck me in, she asked if everything was all right. And the way she was asking, she meant business.
I wondered if Dylan had mentioned anything to her, but then I quickly waved that thought away. Dylan was too self-involved to share concern for me with our parents unless perhaps if I lay bleeding on the floor somewhere from a wild tiger attack or something.
“I think Matt Taylor likes another girl,” I blurted.
My mom sat back in surprise. “Wow! So something really was bothering you!”
“I thought you asked because you could tell!” I said, annoyed to have been tricked into such an easy disclosure.
My mom smiled. “I was just fishing. And it worked.”
“Well, whatever. You got lucky,” I huffed, folding my arms across my chest and leaning back against my headboard.
She rubbed my leg. “I’m sorry, sweetie. Let’s start over. What’s this about Matt Taylor?”
I explained everything—the science fair version and the girlfriend version, just to be fair. My mom bit her lip pensively while I talked.
“So you think she’s his girlfriend why exactly?” she asked.
“Just because they’re together a lot and stuff. And she’s pretty?” It sounded lame.
“Well, you’re with him a lot and you’re pretty!” my mom said cheerfully, as if it was all settled. Now, this was is why my mom is annoying. She just refuses to face the facts sometimes and is always trying to build our self-esteem.
“Mom!” I protested. “I am with Matt Taylor because I happen to be at his house with his sister! Not because he invites me over! There’s a big difference,” I huffed.
“Oh, right, right. I understand. Well, listen, I think . . . if you really do like Matt, maybe you don’t want anything to happen between you two for a while, anyway. Maybe you are better off just waiting. Each of you can branch out and meet other people and make other friends, and then later, when you’re old enough to really date, you’ll be ready and sure!”
“But I don’t want him to date other people! I want him to date me! Now!” I wailed.
“You’re too young to be dating anyone. Seriously, at least,” my mother pointed out with a sniff.
“Oh, Mom. I just . . . I really, really like him,” I said in a small voice.
My mom wrapped her arms across my shoulders, but I stayed stiff. I wasn’t giving in so easily again. She talked into my hair. “He is adorable. And he’s a nice boy. And he’s certainly familiar and comfortable. He’s a perfect first crush. It’s puppy love. Someone else will come along. It’s not like you’re going to marry him!”
I pulled out of her hug. “How do you know?!” I demanded. “I might! Ms. Connor at school married the boy she liked in seventh grade!”
My mom smiled. “That’s really great, but it’s also incredibly rare. People move on, they move away, they change, their interests change. It’s just . . . Look. I know it’s painful right now, but there are so many fish in the sea! And you are an especially beautiful and rare fish, so many, many boy fish will come along and like you! Matt just happens to live in your corner of the aquarium, so you noticed him first! But once you get out on the reef—”
“Mom. Seriously? Stop! This is weird. The reef?” How could my mom be such a dork? I wondered.
My mom snapped out of it and giggled a little. “Didn’t you like my analogy? I thought it was going along swimmingly!” She reached down and tickled me with a laugh.
I had to laugh, but tickling is cheating. “Mom!” I shouted. “Enough! Be serious!”
My mom tried to make a superserious face, but it didn’t work, and her trying did actually make me laugh.
“See? I knew you thought it was funny!” said my mom, pointing at me.
I made my face go dead serious. “I’m laughing at you, not with you.”
My mom made a fake-sad face, and I suddenly thought of Martine and Mrs. Donay and how they were so nice to each other.
I patted my mom on the knee “Sorry, Mom. But seriously. What should I do?”
My mother took a deep breath. “If you really, really like him, then just keep being yourself and try to see him more. That’s all I can think of. But don’t try too hard. Just enough to keep him interested but still maintain your life and interests.”
“Wow! Love advice from Mrs. Becker! Is that how you got Dad?” I teased.
“Yes, if you must know. Men don’t like women who play games, though. They like honesty and friendliness. Really, they’re just like us, you know? Except sometimes . . .” My mom lowered her voice and looked over her shoulder, as if to make sure no one could hear her. “Sometimes they can be a little clueless, especially about girls liking them. Just remember that, okay?”
“Okay.” I nodded solemnly.
“Matt might not even realize this girl likes him, if she even does like him that way. So there’s no need for you to point it out to him and plant the idea in his head. Just keep being yourself and everything will work out, I promise.” My mom smoothed my hair back from my forehead and planted a kiss on my head. “Now, it’s time for sleep. You have a lot of work to do tomorrow, and that’s much more important than any of this boy stuff.”
“I know,” I agreed.
“For real, Alexis. I don’t like to see you too distracted over a boy. You’re awfully young for it, and also, you have to learn that there are things that are just as, if not more, important than boys. Such as work, school, your friends and family . . .”
“I know, I know. Please! Remember who you’re talking to!” I huffed.
My mom smiled. “Sorry. You’re right. Good night, my future CEO. I have total confidence in you. You’ll figure this out on your own.”
I snuggled down under the covers. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Love you, little fish,” she said, turning out the light and closing the door.
In the dark I thought about everything my mom and Dylan had said. I knew there was more to life than boys. That was for sure. And deep, deep, deep down inside, where I would never admit it to anyone else because it would sound awful . . . I knew I was pretty. I mean, not a model, like you know who, but definitely strong and smart and healthy and yes, pretty. And I knew it was possible there was nothing more than the science fair between Samantha Perry and Matt, and whatever I did, I shouldn’t mention Samantha to Matt. And I knew it was unlikely Matt and I would “end up together,” for life or whatever.
But I also knew I just couldn’t stand to imagine him with anyone else.
If Matt Taylor was going to have a girlfriend
, I wanted her to be me.
CHAPTER 7
Crunch Time
I woke at seven on Saturday with a pit in my stomach, and it wasn’t even about Matt Taylor. Sleep had reset my priorities, and all I could think about was the massive mountain of work we had to do today to get those cupcakes finished and delivered.
I sent a group text to make sure everyone was up and accounted for, and we made a plan for me to go to Emma’s for the giant cupcake transfer at eight thirty, and then drop off Mona’s order before we picked up Katie and Mia. I had breakfast with my dad and felt much better once I’d had something to eat. Fully charged and ready by eight fifteen, my dad brought me over in our ancient minivan so we could fit all our wares. It wasn’t until we pulled into the Taylors’ driveway and I spotted an unfamiliar bike that the reality of Samantha spending the day with Matt hit me like a ton of bricks.
“Aren’t you going in?” asked my dad, turning to look at me from the front seat.
My face was flushed with anger and jealousy, and my palms were sweating with nerves. “No. I’ll just text Emma to say I’m here,” I said, furiously punching at my phone.
My dad looked at me for an extra second, making me wonder what my mom had told him about Matt. “Should I go in?” he offered.
“Nope. I just sent the text. All set,” I huffed. I looked rigidly out the other window, away from the Taylors’ house.
A few seconds later Emma came out with a couple of carriers of cupcakes in her hands. My dad pushed the tailgate button to open it and then hopped out to help Emma stow the cupcakes.
“Lex? Any chance of some help?” she called in from the rear.
I thought for a second. “If you bring them to your back door, I’ll take them from there, but I’m not going into the house!” I said firmly without turning around.
I could just picture my dad and Emma sharing a look, and it annoyed me.
Angrily, I jerked the door handle to open it, stormed out, and stalked across the driveway to wait outside the back door.
Emma came up behind me. She said in a quiet voice, “Lex, I promise you this is not a romance. Not for Matt, anyway. You should come in just to observe. Trust me. It would make you feel better.”
“No way!” I protested in a vicious whisper.
Emma sighed. “He’s going to wonder where you are. He has the flyers for you to approve.”
“I’m sure they’re fine. Just bring them. Please.”
Emma sighed again and then passed me and went in through the back door. A couple of minutes passed, and the back door opened.
And there was Matt, an arm full of flyers, and the other arm loaded down with two cupcake carriers.
“Hey!” he said. His face lit up when he saw me, I had to admit.
I rearranged my grouchy face into a fake-smile that had no light behind it. “Hey!” I said neutrally.
He looked a little puzzled but kept coming toward me. “I have the flyers. Here. I hope you like them. You check them over while I go put these into your car.” He thrust the bunch of flyers at me and went to my car, calling out a greeting to my dad. They began chatting, and I looked over the stack of flyers.
Unfortunately, they were awesome. I really wanted them to stink so I could be mean to him and just tell him to stuff them into the trash, but he had done such a good job. He’d taken our recipe idea and made the page horizontal, with a background in pale yellow, like a lined recipe card. He’d done the recipe in a pretty green handwriting font, so it looked like someone’s mom’s handwriting, and there was a cute doodle of a cupcake that he must’ve done himself and scanned. It was just fantastic, beyond what I’d even hoped for. I couldn’t contain myself; the CEO in me won out over the lovesick teenager.
“Matt!” I called, wheeling around. “These are awesome! Thank you so much!”
Matt turned, and he grinned. “Do you really like them?” he asked shyly.
“Like them? I love them!” I cried enthusiastically. Emma came out the door with some more cupcake carriers and then smiled at me.
Matt looked modest. “Well, you guys had the idea. I just put it on paper for you. . . .”
“No way, Matt. These are, like, one of the best things you’ve ever done. And I love the doodle. You did such a terrific job. Thank you!” I beamed at him, and he beamed back at me.
Just then I heard a voice behind me, “Um, hi? Where can I put these for you guys?”
It was Samantha Perry.
I turned around slowly. She was smiling at me and holding up two huge Tupperware bins filled with frosting. I wanted to die. Or punch her. Or something awful.
Instead, I went into CEO mode again, willing myself not to blush, and for once it worked, thank goodness. “Oh, hi, thank you. You must be Samantha. I’m Alexis,” I said politely. “You are so nice to help us. Thanks a million.” I sounded like my mom at work, all cool and professional. No one could accuse me of not being nice. Ever. I knew Emma was watching me, but I think my dad was a little clueless, because he was busy arranging carriers in the cargo area of the car.
“Thanks,” I said again, taking the Tupperware bins from Samantha’s hands and turning so that I could put them into the back of the car.
Matt was standing there with a serious look on his face that I couldn’t read, but his eyes were darting back and forth between me and Samantha. I just knew he was comparing us, and I was sure I was losing. Samantha was dressed in white jeans and a cute blue-and-white–striped T-shirt, and had a bouncy ponytail. To her credit, she looked ready to work, not like she was trying to attract a guy in some girlie outfit. I was dressed similarly, and my hair was also in a ponytail. It felt weird. I just wanted the ground to open up and swallow Samantha so Matt and I could continue our lovefest about the flyers.
“You guys sure are busy!” Samantha said nicely.
I tucked the tubs inside the car and turned back to her. “We’re lucky. It’s a crazy weekend, but it’s worth it. And we have these awesome new flyers Matt made us.” I couldn’t resist throwing that in, just to reinforce my very close relationship with Matt. In any case, it made Matt smile again.
“Can I see?” she asked.
“Sure.” I handed the stack to her, and she looked at it admiringly.
“Wow, Matt. These are incredible. I didn’t know you did this sort of stuff. Something like this will be great for our project!” said Samantha.
I found myself admiring her work ethic, for thinking of her project right away, and I also felt relieved that she didn’t know everything about him. (Not that I did, but I have known him for many years already and have slept at his house, like, a hundred times. Just saying.)
Matt nodded happily.
“Okay, that’s it!” said Emma, loading the last two carriers into the minivan.
I surveyed the scope of what was in there and was amazed it had all fit. I turned to Matt.
“Please let us know what we owe you. These flyers are fantastic. Thank you again.” I gave him my sparkliest smile and looked in his eyes for a teeny- weeny extra second, like I was the only fish in the sea.
He smiled back and held my gaze. “Don’t worry about it. How about . . . just let me use it in my portfolio, okay?”
The spell was broken, as it often is by money. “Stop. Send us a bill. We can afford it!” I joked, waving at the back of the minivan.
“Good luck!” Samantha said as Emma and I climbed aboard.
“You too!” I said. I then muttered quietly to myself as I shut the door, “On your science project, but nothing else, especially getting Matt!”
“I heard that!” whispered Emma with a devilish grin.
“Good!” I said wickedly.
My dad put the car in reverse and backed out and then drove us at a very stately, cupcake-safe speed to drop Mona’s minis at the mall.
“Thanks for not making it weird back there,” Emma said quietly as my dad tactfully turned up the radio in the front of the van.
I sighed. “I was going to, trust m
e. But he really did such a good job. . . .”
Emma was nodding.
“And he is just soooo cute!” I groaned.
Now Emma rolled her eyes.
“Also, I didn’t want his last image of me to be crabby. I have my brand to think of,” I added, fake-fluffing my hair.
Emma laughed at me. “And what brand is that, missy?”
“Alexis Becker, Inc.! The brand of me!”
“You are too much.”
I looked out the window, smiling. But then I pictured Matt and Samantha, spending the day together in that kitchen where I’d spent so much time with him myself, and my smile faded into a thundercloud. By the end of the day, he’d probably be in love with her. But what could be done about it? I had work to do.
We dropped off Mona’s minis, picked up Katie and Mia, and then we set up shop in my kitchen. It was like a full-on assembly line. All the naked cupcakes sat in their carriers with the lids off, waiting to be jazzed up with frosting and then re-covered for delivery. I was thrilled to see it since there really is such a thing as economy of scale—when we buy a lot of flour or eggs or sugar at once, it is cheaper, so our unit cost (the cost per cupcake) goes down. All this makes my heart beat a little faster in happiness.
First, we worked through the two dozen pink frilly cupcakes for Libby’s birthday party. They were really delicious in the end: angel food cake—moist and dense and tinted pink—with pink marshmallow cream frosting that Mia piped on in waves so it looked like a tutu on top of the cupcake. They were so delicious and beautiful that we took a photo, and I e-mailed it to myself to file for future use. (As an interesting side note, Katie told me that angel food cake is very low in fat. It’s healthy enough that I almost could have used it as my cake for the science fair cupcakes. Good to know!)
Next, we did the mud cakes for Sawyer’s birthday. These were easy since they didn’t have to look fancy—just tasty. The chocolate cakes had a fudgy pudding-like frosting, and we rolled the edges in crushed Oreos. It was too much chocolate for me, but it did look appealingly (if you were a little boy) like mud, and they were dense and moist and tasty. Those boys would surely have crashes after eating those party cupcakes and need naps! They were definitely not science fair caliber!
