My dad gave a boyish laugh that was wonderfully at odds with his weathered face. “Well, we’re going to sell out soon. Is there any way you can make more cake pops?”
I grinned. “Dad, I thought you’d never ask.”
At school on Monday morning, there were throngs of kids clustered around the lockers, but I breezed right past them. It took a full ten seconds before I stopped and swiveled back around, realizing I’d walked past my own locker. And then came the big shocker — the realization that all those kids were hanging around my locker … waiting for me.
“Hey, Ali!” Harris’s friend Tyler gave a friendly wave, and half a dozen other kids said their hellos, too.
“Hey,” I said, smiling uncertainly into their expectant faces. I had never been able to lay claim to any sort of popularity at school, so I had no idea what was going on.
“Those banana chocolate chip cake pops yesterday were so yummy,” Lissie said. “We were wondering what the special was for today?”
“Oh,” I said, a warm thrill rushing through me. Since Friday, Say It With Flour had turned into an overnight sensation. I was making a different recipe every day, and kids had crowded the bakery all weekend long while I frantically made batch after batch. And now they were actually waiting around my locker to find out what the cake pop of the day was? Inwardly, I did a ginormous victory dance. Outwardly, I stayed strictly professional, of course. “Well, today’s special is peanut butter chocolate pops with fudge icing.”
A collective “Mmmm” echoed through the halls, and the kids immediately started making plans to head to Say It With Flour after school, while I looked on in bliss.
“I’m going to get extra pops for the whale-watching trip tomorrow,” Tyler said to me. “We have to bring sack lunches, and my mom always makes me the nastiest tuna melt. I’ll definitely need something sweet to force it down with.”
He drifted away down the hallway with the other kids just as Gwen and Tansy walked up.
“Were those your adoring fans?” Gwen asked teasingly.
I didn’t have time to answer because just then, Sarah Chan herself walked over to join our group, something else that had never happened before.
“Hi there, Ali,” she said sweetly, like we were long-lost soul sisters. She tossed her long black hair over her shoulder. “Do you have a sec to chat?”
“Sure,” I said, wondering what she could possibly have to chat with me about.
“So I know you all got the e-vite to my party,” Sarah continued, glancing at Gwen and Tansy. We nodded in unison. “Well, I’ll need a birthday dessert of some kind, of course. And I’ve tasted your cake pops, which are completely fabulous.”
She paused, and my heart clattered wildly. Catering the dessert for Sarah’s party would give Say It With Flour a huge boost.
“So,” Sarah went on, “I was wondering if you’d like to try out for the job.”
“Try out?” I asked, trying to keep my voice on an even keel.
Sarah nodded. “There are two bakeries in town: yours and Perk Up. So I figured it was only fair to let you and Dane both have a shot at catering the party. If he ever decides to come back to school, that is.” She said this with exaggerated annoyance, rolled her eyes, and then laughed. “Of course, if I was in Tahoe skiing right now, I’m not sure I’d come back, either.”
I gaped at her. “Dane is skiing?”
She gave me a “duh” look, then nodded. “His dad flew him up there for the weekend on the corporate jet.” Her laughter tinkled brightly. “If only my dad got one of those with his job.”
“Yes, if only,” Gwen repeated in a high, lilting voice. Tansy elbowed her.
Hmm. The ski trip certainly explained why Dane hadn’t been around on Friday and why I hadn’t seen him all weekend. I’d kept a careful eye on Perk Up, and was thrilled to see that there weren’t as many kids from school going in as there had been before. I wondered what Dane would say about “friendly competition” when he got back into town and found out about my cake-pop triumph.
“Anyway,” Sarah was saying. “I called Dane on his cell and told him about the catering job, and he wants to try out, too. I just have no idea how I’ll ever decide between the two of you….” She gave me a perfect, nearly real smile.
I didn’t want to have to vie for the job . But I also kind of liked the idea of beating Dane at his own game. Suddenly, a recent episode of The Baking Guru popped into my head.
“What about a bake-off?” I suggested.
“A what?” Sarah looked at me blankly, and I realized that for once I was in the know and she wasn’t.
“I saw it on a cooking show,” I said, my pulse racing. “Renata DeLuca was hiring a new assistant, and she tried out two candidates in front of her live audience. She gave them both identical recipes, and then judged their techniques and the end product.”
Sarah’s eyes widened. “Ooh, I love that idea.” She gave a little golf clap, already acting the part of hostess extraordinaire. “We can have the bake-off the weekend before my party. February ninth. And to make it even more exciting, maybe you and Dane can bake something without a recipe. And all with surprise ingredients! Super fun!”
Suddenly my excitement shriveled into fear. Had she just said something about baking without a recipe? My brilliant bake-off idea had taken a very wrong turn. I swallowed down my rising panic, then forced another smile. “Yeah, it does sound like fun,” I replied weakly.
“Okay. I’ll be in touch!” Then she glided down the hallway, tossing smiles and shiny hair in all directions.
Tansy beamed at me. “Ali, this is incredible!”
“No, this is a nightmare.” I grimaced and collapsed against Gwen. “I’ve never baked anything without a recipe in my entire life. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”
“But the bake-off was your idea,” Tansy said, blinking in confusion. “Besides, you can make your cake pops, right?”
I shook my head. “I’ve been using Renata DeLuca’s recipes for those. I mean, I tweak them a little bit to decorate them, but they’re still her recipes.”
“Have you ever tried inventing a recipe?” Tansy asked. “I bet you could do it without Renata. You’re good enough.”
“No way,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m not even close to as good as Renata!”
Gwen gave me her no-nonsense look. “Well, seems to me like you have two options. Back out of the bake-off now, or give yourself a crash course in free-form baking.”
“Backing out isn’t an option,” I said firmly. “The catering job would be great for business, and Dad needs all the help he can get.”
“Okay!” Tansy said. “Then let the experiments in baking begin.”
I tried to muster up a smile, but I didn’t have it in me. Experiments in baking? Yeah right. For someone who hated winging it, it would be experiments in torture.
The next day, I flipped the collar of my jacket up, braced myself against the sharp wind, and stared out at the white-capped waves. Part of me was grateful for the rare chilly day, because at least it would keep me awake.
I’d been up until midnight baking, and I’d kept nodding off on the bus ride to Long Beach Harbor. Now I stifled a yawn and moved closer to the huddle of kids standing on the pier waiting to board the boats for the whale-watching trip. Sarah, Lissie, and Jane already looked miserable, constantly trying to keep their windblown hair out of their faces, and mumbling about the awful weather. Gwen and Tansy were arm in arm, their faces half buried in their collars.
“Whose brilliant idea was it to go whale watching? I could be in a nice, warm classroom right now, blissfully ignoring Mrs. Waters’s lecture on marine mammals.” Gwen’s voice came out muffled.
“But I love whales!” Tansy said. “Maybe we’ll get to see some babies swimming with their moms.”
“That would be cool,” I said. “My dad told me he used to swim with whale sharks back in Mexico when he was a boy. But he’s never been whale watching here.”
�
��Did someone say sharks?” a voice behind me asked, and I turned to see Harris walking toward us. “Now, sharks I’d like to see.”
He grabbed Gwen in a joking headlock, and she playfully shoved him away.
“Watch it, Clark,” she growled. “Or I’ll throw you overboard where you can see sharks up close and personal.”
“Careful,” I told Harris. “She’s a little testy. Suffering from sun deprivation.”
He laughed. “And what about you? How did the baking go last night?”
I blushed, pleased that he’d remembered. Yesterday, he and Tyler had stopped by the bakery after school and stayed for a few hours, hanging out with me and Gwen. Harris had introduced us to an online game called Dragonlore. It involved a lot of dwarfs and elves and dragon warriors. I thought it was mildly entertaining, but it turned out to be right up Gwen’s alley. Harris even asked her to log in later to play with him online from home. At first, I thought it was a sure sign that Harris liked Gwen. But then, a few seconds later, he asked me to play, too. A quick frown had crossed Gwen’s face, and I’d instantly excused myself. I’d told Harris that I had three dozen cake pops to make, and then I was going to make my first attempt at free-form baking.
And now here he was, asking about the baking. Even though I could feel Gwen’s steady gaze on us as we talked, I was flattered by his interest.
“The baking was hot,” I said to him now. “Smokin’ hot.”
“Really?” He smiled encouragingly.
“Sure.” I shook my head. “The kind of hot that requires a fire extinguisher.”
He laughed and shrugged. “It was only your first try. You’ll get there.”
“Well, if last night was any indication, I’ll get there sometime next century.” I told him how I’d laid out all the ingredients for what should have been a delicious cake, but then I couldn’t for the life of me remember how they all mixed together. So I started mixing haphazardly, and when I put the pan in the oven, the batter had oozed over the sides, then bubbled, and then finally erupted. Thus, the fire extinguisher followed by two hours of clean-up detail. Turned out, I’d mistaken baking powder for flour.
When I finished talking, Harris stepped toward me.
“Hey,” he said, locking eyes with me in a way that made heat flash across my cheeks. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Ali.”
“Thanks,” I said when I could finally find my voice.
Just then, Mr. Jenkins and the other teachers called us to start boarding our assigned boats, and I looked up to see Tansy and Gwen watching me and Harris with wide eyes. That made me blush even more. But instantly, Harris stepped away.
“So, anyway, I wanted to see if you guys could come to our first soccer match on Friday after school,” he said, looking at all of us in turn. “The cheerleaders will be at the baseball game, but we could sure use a few people cheering us on, too.”
I exchanged glances with Gwen and Tansy, and we all nodded as we started moving toward the gangplanks.
“Great!” Harris said, walking up the ramp to his assigned boat. “See you later.”
Gwen narrowed her eyes at me. “Well, well, well, you better spill what just happened back there. It looked like you two had a total moment.” Her voice was light and teasing on the surface, but there was a harder edge underneath that made me swallow uncomfortably.
“It was just a ‘friend’ moment, Gwen,” I said. “That’s all.” I made a big show of rolling my eyes to downplay the whole thing, but the fact was I’d liked how Harris had stood close to me. What I didn’t like was the possibility of it souring Gwen’s mood. So I grabbed her in a huge bear hug and added, “I mean, he’s just a guy, right? Body parts and noises, remember?”
That made her laugh, and I felt better.
“Have fun finding your sea legs!” I called, waving good-bye as I boarded my boat with Tansy.
“Not a chance!” she sang back. But then I saw Harris bop her on the head with a life preserver and a grinning Gwen give him a shove in return, and I was glad to see that, with Harris on board her boat, Gwen might just have some fun on this field trip after all.
Twenty minutes into the trip, though, nobody on my boat had found their sea legs yet. The wind was whipping up some impressive swells, and the boat dipped and rocked like a roller coaster. A tame roller coaster, but still, everybody was toddling unsteadily on their feet. We hadn’t seen one whale yet, and to make matters worse, some of the kids were starting to look a tad green around the gills.
“Keep your eyes fixed on a point on the horizon and you’ll be just fine,” the captain urged over the boat’s intercom in a voice that was way, way too cheery for the circumstances.
“What horizon?” Tansy moaned, dropping her head onto the railing. “Even the sky is spinning.”
“Take some deep breaths,” I suggested, patting her back.
But the first deep breath she took sent her running for the bathroom. And within another ten minutes, most of the other kids had disappeared indoors, too. Strangely enough, I felt fine, and I was actually enjoying the steep dips and rises of the boat. The wind and salty air were refreshing, and the ocean looked beautiful, like it had been whisked into a frothy green icing. I tilted my head back and closed my eyes, listening to the roar of the boat slicing through the waves.
“You don’t get seasick, then?” a voice asked in my ear.
I blinked, and looked into those unsettling green eyes again. They looked darker today than I’d ever seen them, more the color of the waves.
I hadn’t noticed Dane on the pier or boarding the boat, but here he was, watching me with that expression that was daring and dismissive all at once.
“No, I guess I don’t,” I said. “You don’t, either.”
He shook his head.
“Did you have fun skiing?” I asked. “I heard you were in Tahoe with your dad.” It was a test, of sorts, to see if he’d brag about his dad’s condo and jet. I didn’t know why I always had this urge to challenge him, but part of me needed to see what he’d own up to.
He surprised me with a sudden scowl. “Oh, I’m sure you can tell me,” he snapped. “You probably think I threw a party at my father’s pad that he was more than happy to pay for, no questions asked. And that I got lots of time in on the slopes with all my jet-setting friends from Europe, or wherever.”
I stared at him. “What? I never said anything about —”
“You didn’t have to,” he said. “It’s all over your face. Rich boy gets whatever he wants on daddy’s whim, right?”
“Hey!” I cut him off, my voice rising to the level of the crashing waves. “Seems like you’re passing judgment on me right now, too, so lay off. I just asked a question.”
His eyes stayed on me, trying to read my face, and I guessed this was his test now. To see how honest I was. I must have passed inspection, because he finally dropped his eyes, heaving a sigh.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “That was way out of line.” He gave me a small smile. “Every time I see you, I feel like I’m apologizing.”
“Yeah, well, maybe work on your attitude and that won’t happen as much,” I retorted, then sucked in a breath. Had I actually just said that? What was wrong with me?
But instead of Dane looking angry again, his smile spread. “You’re right,” he said. He stared out at the ocean. “In answer to your question, my long weekend involved one hour of skiing by myself and about ten hours of mind-numbing business jabber. My dad wanted me to go with him so we could spend some ‘quality time’ together. Translation: so he could drag me around Tahoe scouting a location for the next Perk Up. So all in all, not such a great trip.”
“Ugh,” I said. “That sounds pretty awful. I guess I assumed you were going to Tahoe for a fun vacation.”
“I know,” he said. “Everyone assumes they know about my life. That it must be so terrific to be the son of a man who’s made the cover of Fortune twice.” He frowned. “Did you know we only lived in New Orleans about six months? And bef
ore that we lived in Florida, Massachusetts, and Texas? My dad always oversees the openings of the new stores, but once they’re up and running, that’s it. We’re on to the next place.”
“That must be hard.” I thought about how I’d feel being shuffled from one state to another every few months. Not too great, even if it was on a private jet. “Did you leave a lot of friends in New Orleans?”
“I didn’t have a chance to make too many in the first place.” Hurt skittered across his face and then, just as quickly, he hid it again. “I went out for baseball when we lived in Texas, but we didn’t stay long enough for me to play a game.” He balled his hands into fists and shoved them into the pockets of his jacket. “That’s why I do cross-country now. I’m not letting the whole team down when I have to leave again, at least.”
“But,” I started, not sure why I felt a little sad, “do you think you might stay here longer?”
“Who knows?” He shrugged. “I’m not holding my breath. But I actually like it here.” He met my eyes briefly. “I would much rather hang around Oak Canyon than go skiing alone.”
I brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes as a light spray of water misted my face. “So why didn’t you stay last weekend, then?”
He let out a short laugh. “My dad doesn’t do negotiations. He’s priming me to run his company someday, whether I want to or not. He’s letting me bake for Perk Up because that was the only way I’d willingly work there. My uncle owns a restaurant in New Orleans, and when we lived there he let me hang out in the kitchen after school. He was around when my dad wasn’t. He’s the one who taught me how to bake.” He sighed. “Anyway, you don’t want to hear all this.”
“It’s all right, really,” I said, meaning it. The boat went over a wave that shifted me forward a little, closer to Dane. I quickly took a step back. “I have issues with my dad sometimes, too. He’s pretty old-fashioned when it comes to the bakery, and he doesn’t want to listen to my ideas, much less use them.”
“Yeah, but I heard about your cake pops. They’re a big hit.” Dane gave me a sideways glance and smiled. “I’m out of town for four days and you pull the rug out from under Perk Up. Pretty impressive.”
Cake Pop Crush Page 5
