“Thanks.” I grinned, my cheeks flushing. “But I don’t think Perk Up has much to worry about.”
“So how’d you do it?” Dane asked as we both leaned against the boat railing. “Make the cake pops so huge, I mean?”
I smiled and started talking. And before I knew it, I’d gone from cake pops to my life story. I told him about my mom, and how the bakery was what really kept my dad going after she died. I told him how mad it sometimes made me when my dad acted like he was the only one who knew anything about baking in the entire universe.
“Sometimes I wish that I hated baking,” I said, “because then dealing with my dad might be easier. I’d stay out of his way in the kitchen, and he wouldn’t always be correcting my every move.” I shook my head. “But it’s in my blood. I wake up thinking about what I want to bake almost every day. Sometimes I wake up just to bake.” I dropped my eyes, embarrassed by how ridiculous I was sure I sounded.
I waited for Dane to snicker, or make some smart-aleck remark. But he didn’t. Instead, he said, “Yeah, I’ve got the bug, too. Half the time when I’m supposed to be listening at school, I’m making up recipes I want to try.”
“Robert Browning said that when you taste a crust of bread, you taste all the stars and heavens. He pretty much nailed it.”
Dane smiled, but then suddenly his face froze staring out at the water. “Hey!” He pointed. “Check it out! Gray whales!”
I scanned the water, but all I saw were endless waves. “I don’t see them.”
I caught my breath as Dane put his hand on the back of my neck and scooted closer, using his arm as a guide to point them out. “Right … there!”
And there they were, no more than thirty feet or so from the boat, gliding along in the water, their backs cresting just above the waves. There were two of them, and as we watched, one dove under, its tail flipping up above the water before sliding beneath the surface. The other blew an impressive geyser of spray out of its blowhole.
“They’re amazing,” I breathed. “So graceful.” Suddenly I realized that Dane’s hand was still resting on the back of my neck. He’d forgotten it was there. Or at least, I thought he had. He must have realized it at the same second I did, though, because he quickly pulled his hand away, dropping it onto the railing.
He cleared his throat awkwardly while I waited for my runaway heart to slow down.
“Do you know they spend six months of every year homeless?” he finally said, breaking the silence. “They migrate over six thousand miles from the Bering Sea to Mexico and back again. They never stay in one place for very long.”
“Sounds pretty lonely to me,” I said quietly, watching as the whales slapped their tails against the water.
“It is,” Dane said, his voice all certainty. I snuck a glance at him and wondered if he was still talking about the whales.
I don’t know how long we stood on the deck, watching the whales perform their water ballet while the wind whipped wildly around us. We were the only two who braved the show. All I knew was that when everyone else dragged themselves off the boats two hours later, pale and moaning, I was smiling, and so was Dane.
I found Tansy and helped her off the boat and tried to hold in my laughter when I saw Sarah straggling down the gangplank looking positively pea green. I had to hand it to her, though, because even in her weakened state, she could still pull off an impressive display of theatrics. Right when she stepped onto the pier, she lost her footing (or pretended to), and toppled straight into the arms of Dane.
“I’m sorry,” she said weakly. “I’m just so dizzy.”
“No problem,” Dane said good-naturedly. “Let me help you to the bus.”
As they passed me together, Dane caught my eye for a fleeting second, and then turned back to Sarah. I felt a strange twinge inside me, something almost like jealousy. But I knew that had to be impossible, or insane, or both. After all, Dane was part of Perk Up, and Perk Up was a threat. So just like I’d done with the curious thrill I’d felt when he put his hand on my neck, I dismissed the feeling.
Still, though, on the bus home, I mentally replayed our day. The more I’d talked to Dane, the more surprised I’d been by what he had to say. Slowly, my mental picture of him was rearranging itself, changing from someone stuck-up and spoiled to someone smart, funny, and maybe a little lonely. And I couldn’t deny that I liked what I was seeing.
Harris jogged onto the soccer field with his curls haloed under the floodlights, and Tansy, Gwen, and I all stared. We had to. When you’re watching the human equivalent of a triple-layer fudge cake, you don’t look away. You savor the flavor.
It was after school on Friday, and the first soccer game of the season. Harris looked up into the stands, saw us standing in the first row, and waved.
“Look at that smile,” Tansy said, sighing dreamily. “Ali, I think you’re totally front and center on his radar.”
My pulse fluttered, but Gwen visibly stiffened.
“Oh, sorry, Gwen,” Tansy said, flustered. “I mean, I don’t know for sure if he’s into Ali. I just meant —”
“No, it’s fine,” Gwen said briskly. “I’ve noticed it, too.” She followed him with her eyes as he dribbled the ball down the field. “He’s tough to read, but he’s been making a point of hanging around you.”
“I don’t know,” I said, trying to downplay things. “He’s always friendly with all of us.” But I wondered if there was some hint of truth to what they were saying. Harris was supernice, and he’d been stopping to chat with me more in the hallway at school, and hanging out in the bakery almost every day. But if Harris did like me, then what about Gwen?
Just the thought made my stomach churn.
Gwen must’ve seen the worry on my face, because she gave me a playful slug. “Hey, I know the ‘all’s fair’ rule. No need to worry about crushing my futile hopes.” She smiled nonchalantly, and I knew she’d never give away how much she liked Harris, even to us. She’d play it off as no big deal.
“If he does like me, which he doesn’t,” I said firmly, locking eyes with Gwen, “I’d never go out with him.”
“But it would be okay with me if you did,” Gwen said. “I don’t know too many girls in the school who’d pass up a chance to go out with Harris. He’s one of those guys you could have as much fun arm-wrestling with as kissing. But you’d have to learn how to play Dragonlore, too.”
“Uh-uh.” I shook my head. “Too many elfin people and goblins … not my thing.”
“Me neither,” Tansy groaned. “All those swords and battle-axes creep me out.”
“Hey, don’t knock the elves,” Gwen said. “I just captured Harris’s chief elf, and his magic amulet helped me get to level five.”
I laughed, relieved that we’d moved on from the boy talk. We turned our attention to the game. Harris scored a goal, and we all whistled and cheered.
Then Tansy tugged on my arm. “Hey, Ali, what kind of cake pops did you make today?”
“Strawberries and cream with white chocolate icing,” I replied. “Why?”
“Because we’re surrounded by cake pops,” Tansy said, “and they’re not yours.”
I snapped my head up from the game, and for the first time, studied the other people in the stands. It seemed like every other person was eating a cake pop. They were orange and blue, the Oak Canyon school colors, with a coyote — our school mascot — made out of marshmallow.
“Where did they get those?” I whispered, my stomach tightening.
Gwen didn’t waste a second finding out. She went right up to the group of kids closest to us and asked.
“They’re at the concession stand,” one boy told her. “A dollar each.”
“A dollar each?” I cried. “That’s half the price of ours.”
I started working my way out of the stands and down the stairs.
“Ali, where are you going?” Tansy asked as she and Gwen hurried after me.
“To the concession stand,” I said, picking up my pace
. “To find out what’s going on.”
A crowd was waiting in line at the concession stand, and I immediately saw why. A huge banner hung over the top with the words PERK UP POPS! Inside the booth were Dane and a high-school-age guy in Perk Up uniforms, handing out coffees, smoothies, and — yes — bunch after bunch of cake pops.
I let out a gasp and tried to process what I was seeing. Dane was handing out cake pops with a proud grin on his face. Dane, who’d listened to me talk about my cake pops and my family for hours on the boat. Dane, who’d come into world science every day this week with a friendly, open smile on his face, always asking me how I was doing before the bell rang. Dane, who I’d thought was becoming my friend.
Well, I guess I’d been wrong about that, and everything else about him.
As I stood with my mouth hanging open, a couple of kids walked by me, talking between bites.
“These are awesome,” one girl was saying. “They taste way better than the ones at Say It With Flour.”
“Yeah, and they’re way cheaper, too,” the other said.
“Oh, Ali, I’m sorry,” Tansy whispered, patting my shoulder.
But I barely registered her words through the roaring of rage in my ears. I pushed past the people in line, ignoring their protests, until I was face-to-face with Dane.
“Hey, Ali,” he said, smiling casually. “Can I get you something?”
My face burned. Was he kidding? “How about an explanation?” I seethed. “What are you doing?”
He shrugged, giving the customers behind me an apologetic smile. “Just doing my job,” he said. “That’s it.”
“That’s it?!” I said through clenched teeth. So he wasn’t even going to own up to it, then. He was going to act like he hadn’t done anything wrong. “You’re unbelievable.” I spun on my heel and stalked off, fuming.
“Ali! Ali, wait up!”
I didn’t want to turn around. I didn’t want to hear a word he had to say. But still, my feet stopped against my will, and Dane ran up beside me.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “My dad thought it would be a good idea if Perk Up sponsored a concession stand at school events. I know you’re surprised….”
“Surprised?” I blurted. “Try furious!” I started walking — okay, stomping — across the parking lot, not caring if he followed or not. “You stole my idea!”
“Wait a second!” Dane grabbed my hand to stop me. “It wasn’t your idea! You didn’t invent cake pops. And besides, I used my own recipes. I didn’t steal anything.”
I shook off his hand. “But you made me tell you all about my cake pops and how I promoted them. You used me!”
Dane kicked at the gravel in frustration. “You’re not going to believe me, I know, but I wanted to hear about the cake pops because I was having fun talking with you. I thought we could be friends.”
“Yeah,” I snapped. “You have a weird idea of what friendship is.”
“I never said I wouldn’t make cake pops for Perk Up.”
I scowled. “You’re missing the point. You’re copying us. What will that do to Say It With Flour?”
Dane stared at the ground, frowning. Then he sighed, and looked up at me. “We are allowed to sell the same product as you, Ali. It’s not personal.”
“That’s the problem,” I said. “Nothing is ever personal with you.”
I didn’t stick around to see what he said after that, if he said anything at all. I walked away, not stopping until I was in the safe cover of darkness under the bleachers. I blew out a hot whoosh of air and sunk down into the grass, trying to cool my broiling face down.
“Hey.” Gwen appeared beside me, out of breath, with Tansy on her heels. “We heard it all. Are you okay?”
I swallowed hard, willing myself not to cry. “He is such a jerk.”
“Maybe he’s just under a lot of pressure from his dad,” Tansy offered. “You never know.”
“Tansy, please don’t make excuses for him, or I’m really going to lose it.” Sometimes Tansy’s unending rays of sunshine were too much for me. I plucked a few blades of grass out of the ground. “I spent all that time talking to him. And I actually enjoyed it. Ergh! I was so stupid!” I sighed. “Nobody’s going to buy pops from us now.”
“Could you lower the price?” Tansy asked. “If you made them cheaper than Perk Up’s, people would have to buy from you.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think we can afford to.”
“It won’t be that bad,” Tansy went on. “People love your bakery.”
“And you can still kick Dane’s butt at the bake-off,” Gwen added.
I flopped back into the grass. “That’s the other problem. My experimental baking is not happening. I have a serious case of baker’s block.”
“Well, have you consulted the great Renata?” Gwen teased.
I glared at her. “Renata’s not helping at all. She makes everything look so easy, but I bet she has a whole team of ‘ghost bakers’ backstage doing all the hard labor. And I know she doesn’t have to worry about Perk Up stealing her fans.”
I stood up, drained and defeated. “I’m sorry, chicas, but I’m not in any kind of mood for the game right now. You two stay and enjoy it. Tell Harris I said I was sorry I missed the last half.”
“Are you sure?” Gwen said.
“We can come with you,” Tansy offered.
“No,” I said. “I’ll be all right. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” I pasted a flimsy smile on my face for show, gave them a wave, and walked away.
The sun was setting in flaming colors behind the hillsides, and the air was turning crisper and cooler. I walked down Main Street, right past our bakery, but I didn’t go in. There was no point spoiling my dad’s Friday night with the news about Perk Up. After all, maybe Tansy and Gwen were right. Maybe some of our customers would still come, no matter what. We’d know in a few days.
Even though it hurt to know we’d be doing battle with Perk Up again, what hurt even more was knowing that Dane had had something to do with it. I’d really thought we could’ve become friends. But now I knew that wasn’t what he’d wanted. Or — even worse — maybe that was something he didn’t know how to be.
“Would you like more tea?” I asked Mrs. Kerny, and I swear my voice actually echoed through the vast emptiness of our shop.
“No, thank you, dear.” She looked up from her Sunday paper and smiled kindly. “That’s the third time you’ve asked me in ten minutes,” she added in a whisper.
“I’m sorry.” I sighed. I’d been wandering around the shop for the last hour, trying to find something to do. But there were no sales to ring up, no plates to wash, no more cake pops to make. No one had come to the shop at all today except for our die-hard loyalists, and the sight of all those empty chairs was completely depressing. My dad had taken up his post by the front window again, watching Perk Up fill with people as our own shop lay eerily quiet. Even worse was that he had told me to only make half as many pops as usual, since on Saturday we’d only sold about a dozen, and he didn’t want to waste money on leftovers we couldn’t sell. So I’d baked only one batch of cake pops hours ago. There was nothing else to do now.
“Do you have some homework to catch up on?” Mrs. Kerny asked gently.
“I already did it,” I said forlornly. “Plus next week’s, too.”
Mr. Johnson glanced up from his chess board. “Don’t worry, sweetie. Things will pick up again. You’ll see.”
“If you ask me, I like the quiet,” Mr. Salez said. “Nice to be able to concentrate without some kid jabbering on one of those cell-doohickeys.”
At that moment, the door chimed, and I turned toward the front, hope winging through me. It wasn’t the mob of customers I madly wished for, but still, I was happy to see Harris.
“Hi,” he said, smiling. “I missed you after the game on Friday, but Gwen told me what happened with the Perk Up pops.”
I nodded. “I just needed to get out of there. Sorry I left early.”
&n
bsp; “No worries,” he said. “After what Dane did, you were entitled.”
“Thanks,” I said, grateful that he understood.
“So,” he said, glancing sideways at Mrs. Kerny, Mr. Salez, and Mr. Johnson, all of whom had stopped what they were doing to grin embarrassingly at us, “I stopped by to get a dozen cake pops, if you have them.”
“Definitely!” I said too loudly, my face heating up under all the watching eyes. Then I turned to busy myself behind the counter.
“They’re for my sister’s party this afternoon,” Harris said as I packed them up.
“Oh yeah!” I said. “Did Gwen ever make those earrings for her?”
Harris nodded and pulled a box out of his jacket pocket. “I actually just picked them up from her house. Wanna see?”
“Sure,” I said, and he opened the box to reveal a pair of turquoise hoops with dragonflies in the centers. “Ooh, those are so pretty!”
“So you think Heather will like them?” he asked.
“Definitely,” I said. “Gwen makes great stuff,” I added, wanting to put in a good word for her when I had the chance.
“Yeah, she’s cool,” he said quietly, tucking the box back in his pocket. “I told her she should figure out a way to let kids know about her jewelry at school. She could sell a lot more if she got the word out better.”
“I bet you’re right. I’ll see if I can brainstorm some ideas with her. Here you go.” I handed him the cake pops, which I’d wrapped in a pink ribbon to make look like a pretty bouquet.
“Thanks,” he said. “And, Ali? For the record, your cake pops are still the best.”
“Thanks,” I said, blushing furiously.
He gave me a sweet smile that made me blush more and then, with a shattering rain, I dropped his change all over the counter.
“Oops.” I giggled, then scrambled to recover the spinning coins.
“No problem.” He helped me collect his change, then turned toward the door. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”
I nodded and waved, but the second he left the store, a leaden guilt settled over me. How could I let the boy my best friend liked make me that flustered? I so needed to get a grip. I scurried around behind the sales counter, fumbling for something to do. But after a few minutes of failing miserably, I gave up and sank into a chair with a sigh.
Cake Pop Crush Page 6
