by Coco Simon
CHAPTER 7
Vampire Cupcakes
At lunch the next day, I slid into my seat and handed Alexis a white business envelope with forty dollars in it.
“Thanks,” she said. “But, wait. Did you get an advance on the modeling job?”
I had to laugh. “Alexis! You’re so sharp, you even keep track of my finances?”
She rolled her eyes at me. “It’s just the way my brain works. I can’t help it!”
“My mom lent me the money. I’m not going,” I said. I busied myself with putting a straw into my milk. I could feel Alexis staring at me.
“Wait, you bagged the job?” she asked.
Alexis and I both have very strong work ethics. The idea of not delivering on a job is inconceivable to both of us. Our professionalism is certainly a strong part of our friendship, and it’s the backbone of the Cupcake Club. If we promise, we deliver.
I looked away as I sucked from the mini milk container, stalling for time. Finally, I said, “I couldn’t get over the blood thing fast enough. I fainted at the hospital yesterday on Jake’s preop tour.”
Alexis’s jaw dropped in shock, right as Mia and Katie slid into places across the table.
“What?” asked Mia.
“What did we miss?” insisted Katie, her eyes dancing merrily.
“I fainted at the sight of blood yesterday, so I can’t go to the modeling job today.”
“Whaaaat? After all your hard work?” said Katie.
“All your mom’s hard work, for nothing!” I said grimly. “I feel bad.”
“Well, you got to watch Diego Diaz get his teeth cleaned.” Katie giggled. “So it wasn’t all for nothing!”
We all started to laugh. “He is a cutie!” I said.
“So, now what?” asked Mia, eating her chili.
“Well, I’ll try to get some more go-sees, pay my parents back. Probably write a note of apology to the publicity person at the hospital . . .”
“No, silly, not your career! Now what with Diego!” Mia laughed, and we all started laughing again. I didn’t have an answer for her, so the topic quickly turned to Jake’s send-off the next afternoon. Now that my go-see was canceled, I could come help bake today.
“Are you sure you want to be a part of the vampire cupcakes?” asked Katie in concern.
I nodded through my spaghetti. “Mmm-hmm,” I said. Then I swallowed. “Fake blood doesn’t bother me that much. Baking for a brat does, though.”
“Ooh, poor Jake!” said Mia.
“No, poor me!” I corrected her.
That afternoon we baked at Alexis’s house, which is close enough to my house to walk. We agreed that I would bring Jake’s party cupcakes home tonight, since the other girls were on bikes, and we’d be all ready for Jake’s little party tomorrow. Katie and Mia were whispering about a little present they’d gotten him, but they knew I was annoyed with all things Jake lately, so they didn’t really discuss it in front of me. They knew I’d probably just roll my eyes or something.
It was fun just chilling with the girls in an all-girl house for the afternoon for a change. We wound up playing some of our silly cupcake games while we waited for the treats to cool, like Name That Cupcake.
“Okay, okay, how about pineapple upside-down cake . . . with hibiscus frosting . . . and flowered cupcake papers?” said Mia, her eyes twinkling.
“Oh! I know! Hula-Hoppers!” said Katie.
“Hula-Hoppers?” we cried, incredulous.
“That’s awful, Katie!” said Alexis.
“Hula . . . Poppers?” she amended, and that made us laugh even harder.
“More like Hula-Floppers,” said Alexis wryly.
“Wait, now I’ve got one,” I said. “Golden yellow butter cake, with . . . butter crunch bits . . . dipped in buttercream frosting . . . and some fresh blueberries on top.”
“Ooh, you had me until the blueberries,” said Alexis. “How about Blueberry Fool?”
I smiled.
“Blueberry Crumble?” asked Katie.
“Blueberry Mumble?” joked Alexis, now that we were on the rhyming track.
“Wait! I have a great idea!” said Mia. “Let’s play Name That Guy! We describe a guy, then see if people can guess his name!”
“Okay, I’ll go first: short, bratty, obsessed with policemen . . . ,” I said.
“No, just do guys our age!” said Mia, laughing.
“Athletic; curly hair; very, very blue eyes; great graphic designer . . . ,” said Alexis dreamily. We all knew she was describing my brother Matt.
“Alexis!” teased Katie. “That’s too easy!”
So I said, “I have one: brave, cute, very white teeth . . .”
“Diego Diaz!” they all yelled in unison.
“Okay, maybe this game is too easy.” Mia laughed.
While Katie mixed up the fake blood–raspberry sauce, I busied myself elsewhere, making the frosting and prepping the carrying container. I didn’t have to see the “blood” at all, which was a relief. Despite what I’d said earlier, even listening to them talk about it made me feel queasy.
“Oh, it’s so realistic,” said Alexis. Katie had mixed in a little cornstarch to thicken the sauce. I peeked, and she was dipping a spoon into the mixture to taste it. “Yum!” I quickly looked away.
“Katie, wow! That looks really good. Maybe you should go into special effects!” said Mia approvingly.
Even without looking, I couldn’t take much more. So while Katie filled the cooled cupcakes (“You wield a mean syringe, Dr. Brown!” teased Mia), I called my mom at work to see how her call with Alana went. The go-see would have been well under way by now.
“Hi, honey,” she said. “It’s all taken care of.”
“How did it go?” I asked, squeezing my eyes shut in dread.
“Actually, they were very nice about it. It turned out there was some sort of glitch with the other model too, so they just decided to scrap it for today after all. They said to call back if you change your mind, since they’re not sure when they’ll end up shooting it.”
“I don’t think I will change my mind, though,” I said. “Is that okay?”
“Of course! Please, sweetheart! I just thought it was nice they offered to keep the door open.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I wonder if the other model was Olivia Allen? And if so, I wonder what happened with her schedule? She certainly seemed excited for the job.”
“I don’t know. Maybe she wasn’t comfortable with it either. She probably canceled. Who knows?” said my mom.
I had a hard time picturing Olivia not following through on a job. She wanted to be a model so badly, she would have walked over hot coals for the work.
“So, you’ll be home in time for dinner?” she asked.
“Yup. Almost done. When will you be home?”
“A little late since we have our staff meeting tonight. Maybe you could start the rice for me at six?” she asked.
“Oh, right! I forgot about your meeting. Sure, I can do that.”
“Okay, sweet pea. Thanks. And thanks for checking in. Love you!”
“Love you, too. Bye!”
I hung up the phone and then stared at the receiver. I wondered for a second if I should call Olivia, to see if everything was okay. I mean, there is no way that girl would back out of a job. Not with her ego. But I decided against it. I really wasn’t friends with her, and I didn’t want to be nosy. I’d ask her at school tomorrow if I ran into her.
We finished up Jake’s cupcakes and packed them into the carrier, and I headed home shortly after. I put the cupcakes on the top shelf of the pantry, where Jake wouldn’t find them, and I headed upstairs to take a shower and then start my homework. I was sitting at my desk in my pj’s, with a towel-turban wrapped around my head, when I remembered about the rice. I hopped up and then skipped downstairs toward the kitchen. But as I got near the kitchen, something caught my eye. There were little puddles on the floor; wet splotches of . . . blood?
No on
e was home but me, Matt, and Jake. Matt had been in his room the whole time, and Jake had been watching TV and hadn’t made a peep. I could hear the TV playing from the TV room behind me, but I didn’t want to scare Jake, so I let him be.
“Matt?” I said quietly. I was now scared for real as my brain replayed every late-night true-crime show I’d ever seen about intruders. “Jake?” But he didn’t reply either. I really didn’t want to go into the TV room and alarm him, so I kept going.
I reached the kitchen door and nervously peered around the corner. It was dark, and there was no one there. I grabbed a pair of sharp kitchen scissors from the butcher block and followed the blood stains as they continued past the kitchen and toward the front of the house.
“Matt? Jake?” I called again softly, but I heard nothing. The stains led to the front hall and then stopped, right outside the front hall closet. It was dark there too, and I couldn’t decide whether to flick on the light or confront the intruder in the dark. My heart was pounding so fast, I almost felt like I could see it. I decided I needed the element of surprise on my side, so I put one hand on the closet’s doorknob and one on the light switch. I held the scissors in the light-switch hand, so I’d be ready to thrust them into the intruder if he or she came at me.
Okay, deep breaths, I told myself. In through my nose, out through my mouth. Think of Mona. Think of Diego.
“Hi-yahh!” I yelled, flinging open the closet door and flicking on the light. I jumped into ready position, my scissors held aloft like a samurai sword. My adrenaline was coursing through my veins, my heart pumping: I was ready to take on anyone! Anyone except . . .
“Jake?”
“Emmy,” he said. His face was covered in blood, and he was crunched up in a ball, lying on the floor of the closet under all the long coats, his police officer bear clutched tightly in his hand.
My knees gave out at the sight of all the blood, and I dropped to the floor. “Jake! Are you okay?” I cried.
He sat up woozily and looked at me in confusion. “Am I in trouble?” he asked.
Despite my wooziness, I was so scared, I kept functioning. “No! Why would you be in trouble? What happened to you? Is it your tonsils? Did you try to take them out yourself? OMG! Come out here, so I can see you! Can you walk?”
Jake crawled out of the closet and sat back on his haunches. “Emmy, you’re not mad?”
“Mad! Why would I be mad? You’re lucky to be alive!” I cried. Jake’s whole shirtfront was soaked with blood. I tried to stay calm, like Mom and Dad taught me to do if there was an emergency. “Come, quick, to the kitchen. I’ll call Mom. Wow, actually, we might have to call an ambulance. That’s a lot of blood. Quick! Matt!” I hollered. “Get down here quick!”
“I feel sick,” said Jake. “I can’t walk.”
“MATT!” I screeched. “Help us! Jake’s been attacked or something!”
Matt came bounding down the stairs two at a time. “What is it?” he yelled. Then he saw Jake. “What the—? Jake! What did you do?” He ran to Jake’s side, crouching down next to him on the rug.
“I . . . I . . .” Jake started to cry.
Matt and I looked at each other in fear.
“I ate all the cupcakes!” Jake wailed.
“What?” Now Matt looked at me in confusion. “What does that mean?”
Suddenly, it all came together. “Jake, you . . . Oh! The vampire cupcakes. Jake! You ate the cupcakes in the carrier I hid in the pantry?”
Jake nodded and wailed even louder.
I sat back against the wall, relief flooding me. And then I started to laugh. I reached out and wiped a streak of blood off Jake’s cheek and I put it to my tongue. Yup. Red raspberry sauce. I started to laugh hysterically. What a fool I was!
“You people are freaks,” said Matt in disgust. “You’re telling me this kid ate a bunch of those creepy, vampire cupcakes and you thought he was hacked up by a mad man? You both need help. Major help.” He shook his head and stood up. “Mom’s going to kill you, Jake, for what you did to the rug.”
“I’m going to throw up,” Jake said. He began to cry.
“Run!” I yelled, and Jake jumped to his feet and, luckily, made it to the bathroom in time.
“I might puke too,” I said to Matt.
“I might puke from the two of you,” he said. “Couple of weirdos.” He climbed the stairs to his room.
“Oh boy,” I said out loud. “Time for a new recipe.”
Gingerly, I lifted the police officer bear from the closet floor with two fingers and took him to the kitchen to wipe away the raspberry blood from his uniform. He looked like he’d been injured in the line of duty, which I suppose, for a toy bear, he had been.
CHAPTER 8
Jake in the Doghouse
Dinner was late that night, and Jake’s cupcake party for the next day was canceled. My mom had had it with him and said it was time to stop playing Mrs. Nice Mom and start playing Mrs. Tough Mom. She had Jake help her clean the rug (not a huge success), then she ran him a bath and sent him to bed without dessert or a bedtime story.
My dad was happy that my mom had finally seen the light and stopped babying Jake, so he was in a jolly mood at dinner. I was somewhat traumatized by the whole experience: the sight of the blood, the idea of an intruder, and my shock at seeing Jake covered in blood.
Matt was a little traumatized too, even though he wouldn’t admit it. I know it freaked him out to see Jake like that, especially since Jake’s been driving him so crazy lately. And you’ll never believe this, but when I went upstairs after dinner, I saw Matt sitting on the side of Jake’s bed, chatting quietly with him. I couldn’t stop to eavesdrop—they would have seen me, and Matt would have left—so I just kept walking down the hall to my room. But I would have killed to know what Matt was saying. Whatever it was, I knew for sure that Jake was eating it up.
At school the next day, I told the Cupcakers what had happened last night, and I broke the bad news about Jake’s party. Mia and Katie were really disappointed, but Alexis laughed.
“That kid really has some nerve, doesn’t he?” she asked admiringly.
I laughed too. “You’ve got to hand it to him. He gets what he wants.”
“It’s not easy being the youngest of four,” Mia protested protectively.
“It’s pretty cushy. Trust me,” I said.
“Can we stop by to wish him good luck and bring him his present, anyway?” asked Katie.
I shrugged. “I guess so. That’s really nice of you.”
“The poor little guy,” cooed Mia.
“Wait. Stop,” I said, holding my palm out in front of me. “Don’t do the poor-little-guy thing when you see him, because he’s been hamming it up, and my mom said we’re not helping him by babying him. We’re just making him suspicious, like it’s a bigger deal than we’re telling him. The tonsils thing is just something that needs to be done, and the more businesslike we are about it, the better, which is what my dad has been saying all along.”
“Okaayyy . . . ,” said Mia.
I spied Olivia from across the cafeteria. The suspense was killing me. “Hang on a sec, you guys,” I said, and I rose and crossed the room to meet her.
“Hey!” I said, tapping her on the shoulder, friendly.
“Hey,” she said, glancing up, not as friendly. She turned back to her lunch.
I stood there for a second. I could tell she was hoping I’d walk away, but I wasn’t going to. Not without the information I needed. “So what happened yesterday?” I asked.
Olivia shrugged and took a bite of her sloppy joe. “Nothing,” she said, her mouth full.
“I mean, why didn’t they end up doing the go-see?” I asked.
Olivia looked at me, as if sizing me up, then she said breezily, “It was canceled.”
I was confused. “But why?”
She looked at me again, like, Are you joking that you don’t know? But then she said dismissively, “I don’t know,” like, That’s all, now you can run
along.
I looked at her for an extra second. “Okay,” I said. “Weird. Well, are they rescheduling it?”
Now Olivia was annoyed. “Honestly, I don’t know. They were a little unprofessional. It was definitely an amateur go-see, so when they call back, I will be turning them down.” She took another bite of her sandwich and then struck up a conversation with Bella, who was sitting next to her.
Huh.
I walked slowly back to my table, no more enlightened than I’d been on the phone with my mom yesterday. I guess it all worked out for the best, anyway, whatever had happened.
That afternoon, Mia, Katie, and Alexis came over. Jake was at the kitchen table doing his homework, his little police officer bear sitting on the table next to his workbook. He was banned from TV until after the operation, and my mom said she’d rethink his viewing privileges once he had recovered. She admitted we’d all been relying on the television as a babysitter (her fault, she said), and Jake needed more supervision, more human interaction, and less SpongeBob. She felt TV was making him bratty. I had to agree.
Anyway, the girls came in and shyly presented Jake with a wrapped gift box.
“I’m sorry I ate all the cupcakes for the party,” he said, hanging his head.
“Oh, Jake!” said Mia, rushing to his side and giving him a big hug. “I heard all about it! You poor—” She looked up, and I was glaring at her, so she quickly changed course. “Well, that was a bad idea,” she said, “but we forgive you.” She hugged him again and tousled his hair.
“Sounds like you really scared Emma,” said Alexis.
Jake nodded sadly. “I was a bad boy.”
I rolled my eyes. Katie and Mia were ready to sweep him up and take him home, but I knew he was just hamming it up for them. He didn’t really feel bad. Alexis caught my eye and winked. “You owe us $12.49 for the ingredients,” said Alexis.
Jake’s head snapped up, and he looked at her. “Really?”
“No!” She laughed. “Just kidding!”
Jake grinned. “Because I do have seven dollars. . . .”
