Alexis and the Perfect Recipe

by Coco Simon

  “Okay, not a big deal,” she said.

  “Right!” I agreed, trying to stop myself from smiling too broadly. Tonight I might have another Matt encounter.

  And then my heart stopped as I spotted Matt walk into the cafeteria with a group of guys. I could feel my face growing warm, so I quickly looked down at my lunch tray, hoping no one noticed. There was no way he’d come over here, I told myself. But if he did . . .

  I reached up and pulled the elastic band out of my hair, casually fluffing my hair and rolling the elastic band onto my wrist. If Matt stopped by, he wouldn’t see the skirt, but the hair might be quantifiable.

  I watched as he went through the line, and half listened to Emma’s summer plans. Suddenly Matt gestured to his friends and began making a beeline toward our table! My mind said “Oh no!” and “Oh yes!” at the same time I quickly sat up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. My stomach started doing flip-flops—and then he was next to me!

  “Hey, guys,” he said.

  “Hi,” I squeaked. He looked down and smiled!

  “Emma,” he continued, “Mom asked me to watch Jake on Thursday night, but I just got assigned a group project due Friday. Any chance you can watch Jake and I’ll owe you?”

  Emma frowned. “I guess so. But it has to be a date of my choice!”

  “Fine. Thanks!” he said, and ruffled her hair before taking off.

  Emma rolled her eyes. “Brothers,” she muttered.

  I was thrilled! He had acknowledged me! He had said hi first (sort of!). I couldn’t wait to get home and log all this info into my notebook: Score one for “hair down,” and none for “skirts.” (Whew!)

  Now I just had to wait and see if Matt would be at home later today.

  CHAPTER 5

  Collecting Data

  We all arrived at Emma’s after school only to find that it was definitely not an option to hold a club meeting there. Emma’s mom was having coffee with a friend, and Jake had three little friends over. They had turned the kitchen into a “goo factory,” where they were experimenting with every kind of oobleck and gunk that could be created from basic household ingredients.

  4 little boys + gooey gunk = total mess

  What was amazing was that Emma’s mom didn’t seem bothered by the mess. My mother would have needed serious CPR if that was going on in her kitchen!

  But Emma wasn’t pleased.

  After I said a quick hi to Emma’s mom, I casually (as casually as I could) walked out to the TV room, but no one was there. I went back to the mudroom to Matt’s locker (the Taylors all had lockers to hold their gear), and I saw that it was empty. I sighed heavily.

  Emma narrowed her eyes at me when I returned. “Did you lose something?” she asked, almost in an accusing tone.

  “What? Oh. No . . . no. What?” I stammered awkwardly. “Hey, uh, we can go to my house instead. It’s okay,” I offered.

  Emma was still staring at me.

  “I thought Dylan had her study group there?” asked Mia. Mia kind of worshipped Dylan so she filed away every tidbit I said about her.

  I shrugged. “Well, maybe they can sit in the den,” I said, then heard Emma mutter something under her breath.

  “What?” I asked. “Is something the matter?”

  Emma looked annoyed. “I don’t know why we didn’t just go there in the first place,” she said.

  Now I felt a little annoyed. “It’s not exactly ideal if Dylan’s there,” I countered. “You know how irritating it is when your siblings are around. It can be really distracting.”

  “My point exactly,” said Emma, looking right at me.

  Wait, did she know? But she couldn’t. I hadn’t done anything to give it away, had I? I shifted uncomfortably and said, “Let’s go.”

  We trudged over to my house. And thankfully (for not making a liar of me) but annoyingly, Dylan was there with her two best friends, Meredith and Skylar.

  “Hey, kids,” Dylan called out, acting super-friendly for the sake of my friends, I supposed.

  “Hi. Are you having your study group here?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she replied. “We’re also working on some new cheer routines.”

  Have I mentioned that Dylan is maniacal about cheerleading? Maybe more manic about it than about anything else! When she decided she wanted to try out for cheerleading, she was still in eighth grade, but she went to all the practices over at the high school a year in advance and videoed them on her Flip. Then she uploaded the videos and studied the routines on her computer and learned them all. She practiced and stretched and ran and did their whole warm-up routine. And when tryouts started freshman year, they signed her right on. It was like she’d already been doing it for a year anyway. Now she’s assistant cheer captain and she’s only in tenth grade! Talk about an overachiever. Rah-rah!

  “Can we use the kitchen to bake?” I asked. “We have one more test recipe to run through for your party proposal.” I knew that if I made it about her, I’d have a better chance at taking over the space.

  “Yay! Do we get free samples?” squealed Meredith, who had a major sweet tooth.

  I smiled and nodded. You had to love a fan.

  Dylan looked at me. I hoped she wasn’t going to get all power-trippy on me and say no just for the sake of saying no. Luckily, she simply said, “Just let us finish our drinks, and then we’ll move.” In our house we aren’t allowed to have food or drinks anywhere but the kitchen.

  I nodded. That was fair. Maybe the old Dylan was back. She turned back to her friends, and we began dumping our stuff on the couch near the back door.

  My ears pricked up when I heard Dylan ask, “So what did he say next?” I glanced back at them. Were they talking about boys?

  Meredith smiled shyly in response. “He said he’d like to see me again!”

  It sounded like I might get useful info from listening in. Just as I was turning my head to hear their conversation better, Katie asked, “Want to go watch TV? Maybe I can find a Dancing with the Stars rerun.”

  Besides the fact that I live for TV dancing shows, I normally would have said yes just to get away from Dylan and her posse. But today I really wanted to hear what they were discussing.

  “Um, you guys go ahead,” I said. “I’ll just get some stuff set up in here first so we’re all ready to go when they’re done.” I was determined to get as much info as I could from these veterans of the romance trenches.

  “Do you need help?” Mia asked sweetly. But that was the last thing I wanted right now! Even though it was Mia, I didn’t want to have to make conversation and not be able to pay attention to what Dylan and her friends were saying.

  “No,” I said more forcefully than I meant to. “Thanks,” I corrected myself. “I’m good.”

  I watched as Mia and the others exchanged looks, then shrugged their shoulders before heading to the den.

  I turned back to hear what Dylan and her friends were discussing, only to hear Emma ask me, “Do you have a copy of Jane Eyre here? I’m supposed to read two chapters for homework, but I left my copy at home.”

  Sigh. I love my friends, but they were really bothersome right now! “Sure,” I said without even looking at Emma. “Upstairs on my desk.”

  With my ears tuned to my sister and her friends, I quickly busied myself with measuring out ingredients. The Cupcake Club buys in bulk at a warehouse club and then we divvy up the supplies between our houses. My house, though, holds the bulk of the stuff since I’m in charge of purchasing. I also set out our supplies and preheated the oven.

  Room-temperatureingredients x 5 minutes of mixing with paddle attachment = light cupcakes

  I made sure everything was neatly aligned on the counter: mixing bowls, measuring spoons and cups, rubber scraper, stand mixer, and timer. I adore the order and mathematics of baking: Add this amount of something plus this amount of something else, cook at this temperature, and you will get this—every time! Now if I could just get the right recipe for Matt + Alexis! I laughed
at the thought.

  As I took stuff out of the cupboards, I tried to figure out what Dylan and her friends were talking about. Apparently there was an upperclassman Meredith had met at the library where she worked after school, and things were “getting hot” between them. Usually I would have found this kind of talk really boring and a waste of time, but today I felt differently. It looked like I could get a lot of useful info from them.

  I quietly moved closer to the table, trying not to miss a word.

  “So I wore the sweater you suggested,” Meredith told Skylar.

  Skylar nodded. “Good,” she said. “And?”

  “Well, it looked good, and like you said, it’s very . . . soft and fluffy, and it’s a girlie color. I guess guys really do like that stuff because he did touch my arm when we were talking, like he wanted to feel the material.”

  “And the perfume?” asked Dylan.

  “Yes,” said Meredith. “I did just what you said. I wore that vanilla spice from Bath and Body Works. I felt like a doughnut! But I noticed him kind of sniffing the air—in a good way!—when I bent over to stack some books on the cart.”

  “Well, I told you about the study! Men love vanilla and pumpkin pie above all other scents! It has been tested!” Dylan said, laughing. I was surprised. Boys love Dylan, but I never thought it was something she put any thought or effort into!

  “They’re all just little boys at heart. They want baked goods and fuzzy things!” Dylan added. She sounded so mature saying that, like she had done it all. She did have a lot of boy friends, but Mom and Dad had just started letting her go out on dates this year. I knew Skylar had a boyfriend over the summer, but I didn’t think he was still in the picture. I remembered hearing about some breakup story, but that was way before I was interested in that kind of thing. Like, more than a week ago.

  Okay, I thought, the baked goods part sounded easy, especially for me: smelling like them, providing them, describing them in tantalizing detail. No problem! Next I mentally raked through my closet. I didn’t really own anything that could be described as fuzzy. I definitely had to do something about that.

  My data collecting was going so well that I grew a little bolder. I jumped up to sit on the kitchen island to make sure I didn’t miss a word they were saying. I couldn’t tell if they noticed me and were ignoring me, or noticed me and were kind of putting on a show for me, or if they just didn’t notice me at all (most likely). I waited for Dylan to order me to leave while they finished their drinks. But she didn’t.

  “And how about your hair?” Skylar asked Meredith. “Was it ‘touchable’?” She made quotation marks in the air with her fingers.

  Meredith nodded. “I didn’t blow it out that day. I set it in rollers, just like we discussed, so it was all springy and curly. He said that it looked different and he actually told me he liked it!” She blushed. “So getting up extra early was worth it!”

  “Good.” Dylan nodded. “The Seventeen survey said that men prefer wavy or loosely curly hair above all else.” Boy, I had no idea my sister knew so much about this stuff!

  I started thinking about curls. I have a little pack of rag curlers my grandma gave me one Christmas when I was in a Little House on the Prairie phase. I had wanted to create curls the way the Ingalls girls did. I could find those and see if they still worked!

  I wished I had my notebook so I could write all this stuff down. I tried to visualize equations in my mind to help me remember what the older girls were saying:

  Fuzzy texture + girlie color = boy touching your arm

  Loopy curls – straight hair = compliment

  Food scents / vanilla + pumpkin = boys sniffing

  I was intrigued by the studies the girls were saying they had read about boys and what they liked. I had no idea that actual research dollars were being spent on this kind of thing! But now that I thought about it, it made sense. For instance, perfume companies spend a fortune developing perfumes that are supposed to make men fall all over the women who wear them (if you believe the ads). So why wouldn’t they put lots of dollars into researching which smells men like best? And shampoo companies of course research what kind of hair men like best. Then they release that information right at the same time they’re releasing the new products that make women’s hair do just that! I liked figuring out businessy things like this. When things fit neatly into place, it makes me very, very happy. But I also liked the fact that people—scientists, even!—were spending valuable time and money on just the kinds of experiments I was conducting myself. It made what I was doing seem worthwhile.

  But more important, I couldn’t believe that I’d never paid any attention to the magazines and websites that Dylan and her friends liked to read. It was crazy to think that they were chock-full of all this scientific information about attracting boys, and I’d never known it! Well, I made a mental note to borrow some magazines from Dylan and go online as soon as I could.

  Just then Emma came back into the kitchen holding my copy of Jane Eyre. She also had a funny look on her face. But I didn’t want her interrupting my fascinating information session, so I kind of ignored her. But she just kept standing there, like she wanted to say something to me.

  “What?” I finally whispered.

  Emma looked at Dylan and her friends, then she shrugged and turned to go back to the TV room. Whatever, I thought, and sighed loudly.

  Dylan turned to me. “Is that really a hint?” she snapped.

  “What?” I was alarmed. I wasn’t trying to get rid of them! “Oh, no, not at all!” I said quickly. “Take your time. I wasn’t rushing you. . . .” My fear must’ve been obviously genuine, because Dylan’s face softened.

  “We’re ready, actually,” she said. “Come on, girls. Let’s go outside for a few minutes to work on cheering before we start the chem review.”

  Meredith and Skylar gathered their mugs and things and, still chatting, went out to the yard. I wish I could have gone with them. I had really gotten some good intel, but it only left me hungry for more.

  Then Emma and Katie wandered in. “Ready?” they asked.

  “I guess,” I said, then realized how I sounded. What was I thinking? We were here to work on our business! We were here to make money! Why was I moping about some boy and filling my head with silly tricks and tips? This was so not me at all! “I mean, yes, I’m ready!” I said brightly. “Let’s make some money!”

  “Well, all righty then!” said Katie. And we eagerly set to work.

  It wasn’t until I got upstairs after everyone left that I found my Project M. T. notebook on top of my desk. I had forgotten to put it away last night, not thinking anyone would see it. My heart raced as I thought about Emma. She must have seen it; that’s why she gave me that look.

  I flipped through it. Luckily, I never mentioned Matt’s name. I only called him “The Crush.” I actually shivered in relief, but that was a close call. And now I’d have some sort of explaining to do with Emma if it came up (I certainly wasn’t going to bring it up myself). I picked up the notebook and looked around the room. Everything in my room was as neat as a pin. All except one place.

  I lifted a key out of my desk drawer and used it to open the top drawer in my antique wood dresser. It is a wide and deep drawer, and inside is total chaos. It’s the only place in my world that’s not organized . . . well, until now with this Matt thing. My messy drawer is where I stash makeup, cheap trinkets, sunglasses, and old candy. I dropped the notebook in and shoved the drawer closed, then relocked it. I was probably too late, but better late than never (which is definitely not one of my mottoes).

  CHAPTER 6

  Mall Madness

  The music they play at Icon is so, so loud, and the air freshener or incense or whatever they use to scent the store makes me gasp for clean air. Plus, it’s dark. I mean almost pitch-dark. It is not a place I like to spend any time. But there I was on Saturday, with all the Cupcakers (including Emma, who was being a little weird), looking at the dresses that Dylan had p
laced on hold for me as “pre-approved” attire for her party.

  I couldn’t believe it. All three of the dresses she chose matched her party decor: black and gold. Was she trying to tell me that I was simply part of the decor? Whatever it was, I was annoyed. Black is really not my color. I don’t think it makes me stand out, and I would like to stand out a little—especially if Matt might be there.

  Most of all it just got on my nerves that Dylan felt she could pick what I wore. As if otherwise I would wear something that would embarrass her.

  Katie scrunched into the corner of the dressing room. “Can you make some room, please?” she shouted over the music. I don’t think Mia could hear her, even though she was wedged right up against her. The attendant had warned us we wouldn’t all fit, but we had insisted. I didn’t want to do this alone.

  The room was so tight that Emma was basically sitting on Mia’s lap. I was in a corner, trying to pull the first dress over my head.

  “What do you think?” I asked after I finally—after struggling for five minutes—got the dress on.

  “What?” shouted Mia.

  I sighed. Talking was pointless. I jerked my thumb at the door and then went out into the communal viewing area, which was packed with other girls. We waited our turn in front of the only mirror. Finally we got a spot with a spotlight right above it. At least I could now see myself!

  I tipped my head to the side and looked at the dress. It was horrible, all black and droopy. Not my style at all.

  “It’s fine,” I said with a shrug, “if lumpy is the look I’m going for.”

  “What?” yelled Emma.

  “Never mind!” I shouted, then looked at the price tag. “Really never mind!” I added, though no one could hear me.

  Katie, Emma, and I went back into the dressing room, but Mia decided to wait outside for my “reveal.” I looked at the other two dresses. One was short and flouncy. It had a black tulle skirt and a gold bodice. It was kind of prom dressish. The other one was strapless (nightmare!) and long, with a slit up one whole leg. I couldn’t imagine my mother approving that one, but it was the kind of dress that a guy might like to see a girl in. Hmm. That would be my next choice. I grunted my way out of the first dress and slid the leg-slit dress over my head. It was no more than a thin piece of satin, with some gold details at the top in a kind of bandeau bathing suit style. Luckily, because it was so slinky, it slid down easily.