Sticker Girl and the Cupcake Challenge

by Janet Tashjian

  “You know, I’m not a fan, but this is one instance where Nigel might be helpful,” Craig complains. “I don’t know how to make myself more clear: I cannot be part of a team that loses on a show called Cupcake Challenge!”

  I zip my bag closed; the last thing I need is more pressure right now.

  Christy waits for the signal from the director, then talks into the camera. “We really threw our contestants a curveball with cauliflower last week,” she begins. “We’re going back to basics for this episode and filming right here in the kitchen of our world famous bakery. Our viewers who have visited Christy’s Bakery in person may have noticed our one-of-a-kind cupcake ATM out front—that stands for automated treat machine.” Christy winks. “The winner of today’s competition will get an ever-sweeter victory because their tasty creation will be featured in our cupcake ATM for a whole week!”

  A chance to get our cupcakes in the ATM? This is incredible!

  I hear Bev gasp. Sam and Simone fist-bump. I’m just glad our cauliflower-and-ant cupcakes won’t be in the running this time.

  Christy reaches into the cabinet and hands both teams a large bundle of cinnamon sticks.

  “Cinnamon has been used for centuries,” she says. “Today we’ll see your modern take on it.”

  Before Bev and I can huddle to come up with a plan, Sam and Simone have put their cinnamon sticks in some kind of vapor chamber, probably trying to reduce the flavor to its essence.

  “How about sugar and cinnamon?” Bev asks. “Those are my favorite kind of Pop-Tarts.”

  “No one cares about Pop-Tarts right now,” Craig yells from inside my bag.

  I can’t think of cinnamon without thinking of my favorite food in the world: churros. I can almost taste the fried dough covered with cinnamon and sugar that my abuelita makes whenever I sleep over. Some people might be lured from their beds by the aroma of bacon or coffee, but for me it’s churros.

  “Why don’t we bake our cupcakes with churro batter?” I suggest to Bev. “I’ll start the mixture while you grate the cinnamon.”

  Bev isn’t too happy when I escort her away from the food processor to the hand grater. She waves her fingers in the air and tells me she and her mom just went for manicures.

  “Sorry, Bev. We’re going old-school today.”

  I smile as I measure the flour, knowing my abuelita would be proud. Bev has such a hard time with the grater that she ends up using the spice grinder, which works almost as well.

  “I love the idea of churro cupcakes,” Bev says. “But we’re going to need more than that.” She points to Simone, who’s taking out a small kitchen blowtorch, sending the producers racing across the set with a fire extinguisher. “I know the ant farm was a mistake,” Bev continues, “but is there anything else on that sheet that can help us?”

  Of course!

  We can bake the churro cupcakes, scoop out some of the inside, and fill each one with a dollop of ice cream.

  Craig yells at me for disrupting his view as I grab the magical sheet of stickers from my bag.

  Instantly I’m holding a perfectly shaped vanilla

  “Do you think this is cheating?” I ask Bev.

  “No way! Look at all the stuff Simone and Sam brought in!”

  As she examines the cone in my hands, I know what she’s thinking: Will the ice cream never run out, like the pizza and lemonade stickers on my other magic sheets?

  There’s only one way to find out.

  As soon as we pull the churro cupcakes from the oven, Bev and I grab a couple of knives and start cutting the tops off each cupcake. I look over at the clock and realize we have only four minutes left.

  “Make sure to save the tops,” I yell to Bev. “We’ll need to cover up the holes once we fill them with ice cream.”

  Bev and I work so fast, we spill several scoops on the floor. Lucky for us, the magic ice cream cone doesn’t run out.

  We replace the tops of the churro cupcakes, then frost them with the cinnamon frosting we made while the cupcakes were in the oven. There’s no time to spare—which is good because Christy needs to taste them before the ice cream melts.

  The buzzer goes off and several of Christy’s staff applaud. When I spot Debbie in the doorway, she gives me a thumbs-up.

  “Let’s start with last episode’s winners,” Christy says. “And what is THAT?!” Bev and I have been so busy filling our cupcakes with ice cream that we missed what Sam and Simone have created on the other side of the room.

  “Is that a mummy?” Bev asks.

  Sure enough, the other team has created a giant cupcake in the shape of a mummy. For a minute I wonder if that’s within the rules, but then remember we’re using ice cream that was previously a sticker.

  “Cinnamon was first used in ancient Egypt in 2000 BC,” Simone begins. “They ate it, wore it, and even embalmed people with it.”

  Bev leans over and whispers in my ear. “You sure you don’t want to switch teams? You and Simone are like two nerds in a pod.”

  I’m embarrassed to admit I DID know that fact about ancient Egyptians. But never in a million years would I have thought about using cinnamon bark to wrap a mummy cupcake.

  “Top marks for presentation,” Christy says. “Let’s see how it tastes.”

  Bev and I hold our breath as Christy takes a bite.

  “Good,” she says. “But the cinnamon could’ve been ground a bit finer. It’s a little bitter.”

  Simone looks like she wants to wrap herself in cinnamon bark and jump on the table alongside the mummy.

  Sam’s expression is more I-told-you-so.

  “Now let’s check out Bev and Martina.” Christy holds up one of our cupcakes and takes a tiny taste. “Is this churro batter? Very innovative—and a perfect use for cinnamon.” She takes a small bite, not enough to taste the ice cream filling.

  I nudge Bev to tell Christy to take another bite but she just shakes her head as if to say telling Christy is MY job.

  “There’s a surprise inside each cupcake,” I finally say.

  Christy takes another bite. “Vanilla ice cream! And it’s the perfect consistency—not too frozen, not too melted.

  “Another tough choice,” Christy continues. “But the winners of this round are Martina and Bev—and the people of Los Angeles, who can buy one of their churro cupcakes in our Christy’s Bakery ATM all week! Even if we have to leave out the ice cream, this cupcake is a winner.”

  Bev and I hug and scream. From the sidelines, Debbie hoots and hollers. There’s never an audience at the tapings so it’s nice to have some in-person support.

  “The next episode will be our final challenge for these contestants,” Christy says into the camera. “And with each team scoring one victory, the title of cupcake champ could go to either one of them.” She pulls Bev, Sam, Simone, and me into a group hug.

  “The next challenge will test more than just your baking. It involves social media, pictures, and an art installation. We’ll be inviting the public too. Are the contestants ready?”

  We all smile and shout, “Yes!” but inside, one word ricochets through my body.

  NOOOOOOO!

  Helping Hands

  The next day, Mom, Dad, and I meet Bev and her parents outside Christy’s store for the unveiling of our churro cupcakes in the automated treat machine. Christy’s producer films on her phone and tells us the video will be featured as a bonus segment online when the episodes are uploaded.

  We take a zillion photos in front of the machine with Bev and me pointing to our winning cupcake. Bev’s dad is so proud, he buys half a dozen from the machine before Christy tells him we’re welcome to take home as many as we’d like for the rest of the family. It’s exciting, but I wish my abuelita wasn’t traveling to Mexico City with two girlfriends and could be here to celebrate. After all, we really owe this victory to her delicious churro recipe.

  As we head back to our car, I twirl the bracelet around my wrist. I haven’t taken it off since it came to life. Maybe A
buelita is right and it IS bringing me good luck.

  On Monday, Bev is waiting at my cubbie with a carved wooden totem pole the size of a ruler. The faces are all cats, so it’s pretty obvious whose handiwork this is.

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” I tell Bev. “I don’t know whether to be impressed or terrified.”

  “I’m worried they’ll find my dad’s power tools,” Bev says.

  I suddenly spot Nigel wheeling a shopping cart full of motherboards and circuits into Mr. Lynch’s old room in the back of the building.

  Principal Lajoie follows closely behind. “Why didn’t I hear about this robotics lab?”

  “You might want to call the superintendent.” Nigel flashes the lanyard he’s wearing around his neck. “But I think your approval rating is so high, the committee decided this school would be a great site to test the program.”

  Principal Lajoie smiles, then heads back to her office to follow up.

  I race down the hall after Nigel. “How’d you get an official pass? You have to stop before you get in trouble!”

  Nigel smirks. “Don’t you mean before YOU get in trouble?”

  As soon as he unpacks an electronic gizmo from the cart, I swipe it out of his hands. Nigel looks at me with exasperation. “We’re already a big hit. Come look.”

  He leads me to the cafeteria, where two new identical robots with gumball-machine heads are helping the lunch ladies set up. Mrs. Cordeiro is laughing at something one of the robots said; the whole group seems to be productive and having fun.

  “And how about this?” Nigel leads me to the front office, where another robot is sorting mail while Ms. Harrison files alongside him.

  “How did you build new robots so fast?” I ask him. “It’s your first day here!”

  Nigel gives me a sly smile. “You just need the right tools. Get used to seeing us around—there’ll be even more of us by this afternoon.”

  I’m glad the new robots are helping out these hardworking staffers, but I feel anxious knowing that all this additional—and free—help will most likely disappear soon. There’s something underneath that feeling too; I can’t put my finger on it, but I don’t like the way Nigel’s android efficiency has gone from cooperative to sneaky within a week’s time.

  Most of our morning class is spent talking about the robots. Do we get to take them home? Can they help with our homework? Can they sub when a teacher is sick? Bewildered, Ms. Graham has no answers and steers the conversation toward choosing new books for our school library.

  She makes a list on the smartboard of our suggestions—everything from picture books to graphic novels to a new chapter-book series about baby animals. I suggest one or two titles but mostly listen to my classmates. It makes me proud to think all these new books are a direct result of our bake sale.

  During our free time, Ms. Santos lets us do our math homework. I’ve been spending so much time working on Cupcake Challenge that I feel behind in my schoolwork. I usually don’t have a hard time with multiplication tables but for some reason the seven table completely escapes me. After 7 × 3, I struggle with the rest of the table, erasing my initial guesses so many times that I tear the worksheet. Why is math so difficult today?

  Hey, wait a minute … one of my last three magical stickers is a calculator!

  Ms. Santos isn’t a big fan of us using calculators in class, but she also knows that some kids really need them. So much of my brain has been taken up with cupcakes lately that I’ll take all the help I can get.

  I rummage through my bag and pull out the magic sheet.

  The only stickers left are the wave and the baseball bat. WHAT HAPPENED TO THE CALCULATOR? Did I forget I peeled it off? I’ll have to try my best on the sevens table and ask Craig as soon as I get home.

  But I don’t have to wait that long. On my way out of class, I spot Nigel near my cubby, accompanied by four new robots.

  “How are you making these robots so fast?” I ask again.

  “I’m just that good,” he answers.

  His posture seems strange, his hands crossed behind his back. When I ask if he’s hiding something, he immediately denies it.

  I pretend to leave, then spin around behind him. “You took my calculator!”

  He holds the calculator over my head, out of reach. “It’s just as much mine as yours,” Nigel says. “We’re from the same sheet! Besides, it was sticking out of your bag!”

  I’ve always wondered if the stickers could come alive without me and they obviously can. When Nigel peeled it off, did the calculator make the same

  the other stickers made?

  My mind moves from the sticker process to the calculator. If there was a bulb hovering above my head, it would be lighting up now. “You’re using this calculator to multiply these robots—you’re not building them at all!”

  I jump to reach the calculator but Nigel opens the top of his head and drops the calculator inside with the colorful gumballs. “I’m multiplying these robots to help your school!” Nigel says. “Two of them just shelved all the books in the library while another one repaired the play structure outside. With all the budget cuts this school has had, you should be thanking me, not complaining!”

  Maybe Nigel’s onto something—maybe I should take advantage of him while he’s here. And since I’m student council president, the more things he does for our school the better, I guess.

  Am I crazy to trust a robot?

  Money Problems

  As the week goes by, I feel like I might’ve jumped to conclusions about Nigel. The entire school buzzes with the energy of tasks getting done and repairs being made by his band of helpful androids. Rumor has it that one of the robots even graded Mr. Morelli’s fifth-grade history test. Even though he lied about peeling off one of my stickers, Nigel has almost become part of the family. Last night he even took a break and watched Dancing with the Stars with Mom and me, shouting at the television when our favorite couple got eliminated.

  There are supposed to be only three episodes in Cupcake Challenge, but the producer asks us to come into the bakery before our last showdown to tape a special segment where Christy gives us our assignments for the finale. Bev and I have watched enough episodes to know how complicated the last show can be. Rather than a secret ingredient, the final challenge always involves an elaborate theme. Last season’s topic was Broadway and the two teams made cupcakes on subjects as varied as SpongeBob and Hamilton. Bev and I have been practicing our speed in the kitchen and we’ve definitely gotten better—I’m just not sure our abilities are good enough for us to beat Sam and Simone.

  The producer tells us Christy has two meetings before ours and to sit tight. Sam takes out a stack of papers and starts folding to pass the time; Simone puts on headphones and listens to music. Bev makes small talk with Toni, the cameraperson, while Toni checks her frame and adjusts where we’ll stand. I smile and pretend to listen to them chitchat about their favorite desserts but my mind is racing with guesses of what the theme will be.

  “Sorry, kids,” Christy says as she clatters in on high heels. “Franchises, pop-ups, online sales—the to-do list never ends!” She applies lipstick from her purse and it makes me wish the only lipstick I own didn’t reek of tuna fish.

  Christy stands in front of the velvet curtain and waits until Toni gives her the signal. She flashes her winning smile. “Is everyone excited to hear about the last challenge?”

  It’s not that I’m afraid of losing; I’m worried my stickers might cause some major disaster during the show. Bev, on the other hand, just seems happy to be here. It must be amazing to go through life without worrying all the time.

  “The topic for the final challenge is … Los Angeles!” Christy reaches behind her and pulls the curtain back, exposing a map of the city. “You’ve got a lot to choose from,” she continues. “The Hollywood Walk of Fame, Santa Monica Pier, Malibu, the Hollywood sign, the mountains, Disneyland—the inspiration is endless.”

  Sam and Simone are typing furiou
sly, while Bev does a little dance to show how excited she is. I smile and pretend to dance along but most of what I feel is dread.

  “There’s one more surprise,” Christy says. “Each team gets to invite an additional person to help them complete the challenge. Friend, family, neighbor—as long as he or she isn’t a professional pastry chef!”

  Of course the first person I think of is Dad; he’s not a pastry chef but he’s the best cook I know. Whomever Sam and Simone get to help them will never match Dad in the kitchen. When Bev winks at me from across the counter, I know she’s thinking the same thing.

  On the drive home, Dad almost has to pull over when I tell him the final challenge will be filmed next Friday.

  “That’s the only day I CAN’T do,” Dad says. “I have a big meeting at the bank to renegotiate the terms of my loan. I already had to change the meeting once—I can’t do it again.”

  He seems as upset as I am.

  “You have to!” I cry. “You’re the only one who can help us win!”

  Dad promises to call the bank and see if they have any flexibility. “If they don’t extend my loan, I’ll lose the diner. It’s an important meeting.”

  I turn to Bev, who’s surprisingly silent. Who will help us if my dad can’t?

  My abuelita!

  But from the backseat, Bev moves her arms stiffly; I’m about to tell her to stop being so weird when I realize she’s acting like a robot. Who would be better in the challenge—my grandmother or Nigel?

  While Dad calls the bank, Bev and I race through the house looking for Nigel. The door to my room is closed—is he in there?

  It takes both Bev and me to push open the bedroom door. At first I think it’s because the door is catching on the carpet, but when we finally squeeze inside we discover the room is jam-packed with robots. In the center of the room is Nigel, furiously typing into the magic calculator that used to be a sticker.