Cake Pop Crush

by Suzanne Nelson

  We worked side by side until the sun peeked up over the mustard colored hills. Today, my dad didn’t loom over my baking, but nodded in approval as I carefully measured the exact amounts of baking powder, flour, and sugar. This hadn’t happened in a long time — the two of us sharing the kitchen together without him hyper-controlling every last teaspoon. When I was younger and Mom was still alive, he’d let me create my own doughy concoctions, not caring about the messes I made. Then Mom died and so did our fun in the kitchen. Dad told me that I was old enough to bake in earnest, and as I got bigger, so did his expectations. But today we worked in comfortable silence, and soon I relaxed into the rhythm of the baking.

  Finally, we slid the first tray of bolillos (the Mexican version of French-style bread) into the oven. Then Dad turned to face me.

  “I tried your, uh, cake sticks,” he said.

  “Cake pops,” I corrected.

  “Yes, those,” he groused. “They are good. Very good.” His praise pleased me, but I held my breath, unsure of what would come next. He hesitated, then added, “We can try them in the store.”

  “Yes!” I grabbed him in a hug, beaming. “Thanks, Dad! They’re going to sell, and then —”

  My dad held up a finger. “We’ll see what happens. We need to bring in new customers. But if your cake pops don’t sell, we can’t keep them in rotation. Is that understood, Alicia?”

  I nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes. But they will sell! I know they will.” My mind was already humming with ideas for how I could market the pops. With Gwen and Tansy’s help, I could even have the word out by this weekend!

  I kissed Dad’s cheek and his mouth curled into a reluctant smile.

  “Enough, enough,” he chuckled. “We have work to do.”

  We turned back to the oven and watched the bolillos split their golden sides, their earthy smell filling the shop. It was the aroma that only our bakery (and ours alone) could create in this perfect way. And in its warmth, I always found my mother. This was why nothing could happen to our shop. This was why I would never let anything happen to it. And now that I had the go-ahead from my dad to sell my cake pops, I would make sure of that.

  When the shop opened for business, I still had some time to get to school. So I sat behind the counter and cracked open my English textbook. Just then, the doorbell tinkled. I glanced up, expecting to see Mr. Salez or Mrs. Kerny, ready for their danishes and coffee. But instead, there was Dane in track pants and a T-shirt, his face flushed and damp. I hated myself for noticing how adorably disheveled he looked.

  “H-hi,” I managed to stammer, a mixture of irritation and confusion turning my brain to mush. What was he doing here?

  A small smile crossed his lips as he pulled his earbuds out of his ears. “Hey.” He looked around the shop, taking in the lanterns and the vibrant Mayan rug hanging up over the booths. “Wow, this place is really one of a kind. Pretty cool.”

  “Thanks,” I said, then waited for more. When it didn’t come, I finally asked, “So can I help you?”

  “Um, I was wondering if I could grab some breakfast to go.”

  I stared. Wow. And I’d thought he had nerve just setting foot in here.

  “Okay,” I said, shrugging. “But shouldn’t you be buying something from your dad’s store instead? Or did you just want to come check out the competition?”

  It was a challenge, to see how he’d react. Not the nicest thing I’ve ever done, but after what had happened yesterday, I couldn’t help myself. Now his cheeks turned bright red and his smile disappeared.

  “Perk Up doesn’t open until eight,” he said, glancing down sheepishly, “so you guys have us beat by an hour. And besides, I don’t eat my own baking that much. It never tastes as good when you make it yourself.”

  I knew that was true enough, but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of hearing me say so. I kept quiet, shooting daggers at him.

  He cleared his throat. “So you heard about my dad?” he finally asked.

  I nodded. “I was wondering where you got all that business talk from yesterday,” I said coolly.

  I thought that might embarrass him, but instead he lifted his gaze to look right at me. “I should’ve told you yesterday,” he said. “I just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Sometimes when people find out who my dad is it gives them the wrong idea about me, like I’m some kind of …”

  “Evil billionaire?” I finished for him.

  He gave a short laugh. “I was going to say stuck-up trust fund kid, but you get the picture.”

  “Aren’t you, though?” I asked. Boy, I was breaking records today for bluntness. If Gwen could only see me now.

  He shrugged, and a sudden defiance lit his eyes. “That’s not all I am. Besides, being the heir to Perk Up isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

  I wasn’t sure how to respond, and there was a moment of awkward tension between us. Finally, I broke our gaze and gestured down to the counter.

  “So,” I said, trying to keep my composure, “what would you like?”

  His eyes skimmed over the rolls and pastries behind the glass. “What’s your favorite?”

  “Niños,” I said. “They’re Mexican jelly rolls, super soft and sweet. I have them a lot for breakfast, with hot chocolate on the side.”

  Dane grinned. “That sounds great. I’ll take a roll to go, but I’ll have to save the hot chocolate for another day. It’s tough to run with scalding-hot liquid in your hand.”

  I wrapped the jelly roll for him. “Is that why you’re up so early? Running?”

  He nodded, taking out his wallet to pay for the roll. “I joined the cross-country team. But with the move here, I haven’t been running the last couple of weeks. So I’ve got to build my times back up again.”

  “Here you go,” I said, handing him the bagged roll. And then, because I couldn’t seem to keep my thoughts to myself around him, I added, “I hope you like my niños better than my cake pops.”

  He froze, and I was secretly pleased by his shocked expression, even if it only lasted a millisecond.

  “You were the one who left the cake pop in my locker?” he asked, then shook his head. “I’m sorry about that. I guess I win the prize for Jerk of the Week.”

  “It’s okay,” I said, even though I was still on edge. “I just never knew anyone could hate cake pops so much.”

  “I don’t,” he said quickly. “It wasn’t that. My dad and I had a big blowup on the way to school. I’ve been mad about the move, and, well, it had been a banner bad day.”

  “I’ve had days like that, too,” I said. In fact, my week hadn’t started off on such a stellar note, either, thanks to Perk Up. But I didn’t think now was the best time to remind Dane of that, when we were finally having a semi-decent conversation.

  “Maybe we can start over?” he said. “Pretend like that never happened?”

  “Like what never happened?” I blinked, like I’d come down with a serious case of amnesia.

  “Thanks, Ali.” He grinned. “Well, I guess I’ll see you at school.”

  “Yup. See you.”

  The door shut behind him, and I watched as he ran down the street. He had his earbuds back in, and he was bouncing off the pavement with each stride. His guarded expression was gone, and he looked almost happy.

  “Alicia?” My dad’s voice came from behind me. “Who was that boy?”

  “A friend from school,” I said, and then stopped, rerunning the words in my mind. He wasn’t really a friend. Not yet. But there’d been moments when he’d seemed almost … nice. There was definitely more to him than the arrogant-seeming rich boy who’d thrown out my cake pop. But still, Dane was the son of the man who was rapidly stealing my dad’s business. And I wasn’t sure I should be friends with him, let alone trust him at all in the first place.

  “I need a paper bag,” Tansy moaned, fanning herself with her hand while her eyes clenched shut.

  “Here we go again,” Gwen whispered to me. But then, in true b
est-friend form, she gave Tansy a supportive smile. “You’re not hyperventilating, Tansy,” she said. “You’re just a little nervous.”

  I slid my arm around Tansy’s shoulders. We’d been in the girls’ changing room outside the gym for the last ten minutes, trying to get Tansy to calm down. I kept hoping that Tansy would outgrow her stage fright, but she didn’t, so we did this routine nearly every time she performed.

  So far today the pep talk was failing miserably, and the Spring into Sports rally was going to start in about three minutes. The loud bass from the speakers was already blasting a hip-hop beat, and the chatter of the kids in the bleachers was reaching a hysterical pitch.

  “You’ll do fine once you start dancing, like you always do,” I said, making my voice as encouraging as possible. “There aren’t even that many kids out there.”

  Tansy gave me a “do I look stupid?” gaze. “There are over a hundred kids out there.” She put her head between her knees. “Why do I do this to myself? I hate performing!”

  “But you love dancing,” Gwen said. She stood up and grabbed one of Tansy’s arms, then signaled me to do the same.

  “And everyone loves watching you,” I added. We pulled Tansy to her feet and into a three-way hug, squeezing her until she giggled.

  “Okay, okay.” She shook her arms and legs out, and took a deep breath. “You’re right. I’ve done this before, and I can do it again.”

  “Thatta girl,” Gwen said. “Now get out there.”

  Tansy gave us a panicky but determined smile, and then ran out the door and into the gym to join the rest of the dance team.

  “Well, that’s one mission accomplished,” I said, then glanced at Gwen. “Are you ready for the second task?”

  “Definitely,” she said. “Break out the Pops for Jocks coupons!”

  I grinned, still loving the tagline I’d come up with. Since my dad had given my cake pops his approval, I’d stocked up on flavored candy chips, colored sugar, cake-pop sticks, and everything else I needed. Last night, in the spirit of the sports rally, I’d baked vanilla-chocolate-swirl pops and decorated them to look like baseballs and soccer balls. They were all sitting at Say It With Flour right now, waiting to be eaten. And the rally was the perfect place to spread the word. I reached into my bag and handed Gwen a big stack of flyers. I took an armful, too, and we headed into the gym, ready to put my plan into action.

  We each took half the bleachers, going up and down the aisles with the flyers. “Stop by Say It With Four after the rally and buy one cake pop, get one free,” we chanted.

  Most of the kids nodded and smiled as they read the flyers, whispering to one another about it. That at least seemed promising.

  I finished my half of the bleachers just as the hip-hop beat suddenly morphed into recognizable music, and Principal Dalton’s voice came over the loudspeaker.

  “Ladies and gentleman, please put your hands together for Oak Canyon’s Dancing Divas!”

  I slid into an empty spot in the bleachers, then watched Tansy gracefully lope to the center of the gym with a dozen other girls. She launched into a series of calypso leaps across the floor, ending in a half split. She bounced right back up, swinging her hips and kicking her legs in time with the music, no nervousness showing on her face at all now, just happiness.

  “She looks awesome,” said Gwen, coming up beside me.

  I nodded, then glanced down at Gwen’s empty hands. “All finished?”

  “Yup,” she said. “I handed out all of them, so we’ll see what happens.”

  “Well, I made two hundred cake pops,” I said. “Either they’re going to sell, or I’m going to be eating a lot of cake.”

  Gwen laughed. “Here’s to hoping you don’t have to eat a single, solitary bite.”

  Tansy finished up with the dance team and found us in the stands, her face flushed and glowing. Gwen and I tackled her with congratulatory hugs, and then the three of us settled down to watch the rest of the rally. The cheerleading squad was next, with Sarah Chan front and center, her long legs and radiant smile making her impossible to miss. Principal Dalton then called out the sports teams. Every time teams ran onto the gym floor, the cheerleaders made a big show of jumping up and down and leading the bleachers in a cheer. The baseball and softball teams came first, and then came track and cross-country.

  My ears pricked up when Dane’s name was called, but as I scanned the cross-country lineup, I couldn’t spot him. In world science that morning, Mr. Jenkins had split us into our lab groups to study marine fossils. Dane had given me a quick smile as he made his way to his lab station, but we didn’t have any chance to talk. And now he was MIA at the rally. I wondered if he was sick or something.

  I was about to ask the girls if they’d heard any new info about him circulating the school when Harris’s name was announced in the soccer lineup. He jogged onto the gym floor with his team, and I could almost hear an audible sigh from every girl in the room, me included. What can I say? Who wouldn’t be a sucker for that adorable, dimpled grin? Even Sarah outdid herself with a sky-high scissoring leap into the air.

  Harris waved to the screaming crowd, and for a split second, I thought he looked right at us (or me?), even though we were halfway up the bleachers. My heart skipped involuntarily, and then I immediately scolded myself. What was I doing searching for signals from the guy Gwen had her eye on? That in and of itself felt like some sort of betrayal. Besides, there was no way he’d singled us out of the crowd.

  But then, when the rally ended and we were wading our way toward the gym doors, Harris popped up beside me, a posse of his friends in tow.

  “Hey!” he said. “Rumor has it there’s a new hangout on Main Street we have to try.”

  I groaned. “I’m sorry, but if you say Perk Up, I’ll have to kill you.”

  “And I’ll help,” Gwen piped up.

  He laughed, then waved my very own flyer in my very red face. “There’s this new baker at Say It With Flour. I heard she makes an amazing cake pop.”

  I couldn’t help but grin at his words.

  “It’s true,” Tansy chimed in. “And you haven’t even seen her in action yet.”

  Gwen turned to me. “So let’s go now. We can see if our ad campaign worked.”

  “It definitely worked,” I said fifteen minutes later as I stared at the line of kids waiting to get into Say It With Flour. The line that had been across the street at Perk Up had now migrated to our humble little bakery. I felt a swell of pride. “¡Excelente!”

  I hurried past the line and squeezed through the door to find my dad behind the counter with my abuelita, both of them scrambling to help customers. My dad glanced up from the counter just long enough to give me a tired but beaming smile.

  Roberto ran up to me. “Ali! Ali!” he said, yanking on my hand. “Daddy says your pops are selling like hot snakes.”

  “Hot cakes.” I hugged my brother.

  By that time, Harris, Gwen, Tansy, and Harris’s friends had caught up with me. I looked at them all apologetically. “Um, guys, I know we were supposed to hang out, but I need to help my dad. You don’t have to stay. You should go do something fun.”

  “I don’t know,” Harris said, “this looks pretty fun to me.”

  Glancing around the bakery with fresh eyes, I realized what he meant. Half the school was here, clustered around tables, laughing and talking … and … eating! Eating my cake pops and everything else the bakery had to offer.

  But when I saw Sarah Chan and the triumvirate holding court in a booth, that’s when I knew I was making history. Lissie, Jane, and Sarah were each nibbling on a cake pop while giggling about something or other. I blinked with a mixture of delight and disbelief. Harris was right. In one hour, our bakery had become an Oak Canyon hot spot.

  “Okay,” I said, full of excitement. “Gwen, Tansy, could you keep an eye on Roberto for me?”

  “Sure,” Tansy said.

  Gwen rumpled Roberto’s hair. “Hey, squirt, do you want me to pierc
e your belly button?”

  “Yes!” Roberto squealed.

  I glared at Gwen, and she held up her hands, all innocence. “Kidding! He can help me fill an order of earrings I have to get out.”

  “Earrings?” Harris piped up. “Hey, my sister’s birthday is next week. Do you think you could make a pair for her, too?”

  “Sure,” Gwen said, and gave an impish grin. “It’ll cost you, though.”

  “Don’t drive too hard of a bargain.” Harris matched her smile with his own. “She’s only my sister.”

  Gwen laughed. “I’ll show you what I have and you can tell me what you think she’d like.” She held up her finger. “But first, we need cake pops.” She leaned over the counter and grabbed a batch, ignoring the kids in line who were grumbling and protesting.

  “Easy, peeps,” Gwen said. “I’m basically family. I have VIP privileges.”

  She distributed the cake pops among Tansy and Harris and his buds, and they all squeezed into the booth in the far back. Meanwhile, I grabbed my apron and hurried around the counter to my dad.

  “Ali, they mobbed us,” he said breathlessly as he handed more pops to the kids in line. “The bakery was completely empty and then all of a sudden, this tidal wave.”

  I beamed at my dad, thrilled to see that his worry lines weren’t quite as deep as they’d been this morning. “This is a great start, right?” I said hopefully. “If we keep going like this …”

  “Cariña mia, it’s not that simple.” Dad put his hand on my arm. “We’re not making much profit with the buy-one-get-one-free promo. But maybe, if some of these customers come back again and keep buying more …” His voice trailed off as he rubbed his chin, thinking. “Well, for now this is a good sign. A very good sign.”

  My smile stretched wider. “So what do you need me to help with?” I asked, ready to get to work.