by Coco Simon
We ate and ate and then made our way to the playroom, where long tables were set up for people to do holiday crafts. The cool thing was it wasn’t just the kids doing it but adults, too! There were little jars to make holiday terrariums, with a selection of evergreens, and tiny reindeer and elves to use, and chubby corks to close it all up. There were picture frames you could bedazzle with jewels, and mosaic stickers that looked totally professional. Wooden dreidels sat on little stands, so you could paint them with enamel paint. And there was a section for making your own Christmas stocking or wooden clog for Santa to fill on Christmas morning. It was so fun.
Best of all, out in the garage, they’d taken out the cars, and a photographer had set up an old-time photo shoot, where you could put on costumes, have your picture taken, and get a sepia-colored print of it. We decided to do it, but Mia suggested grabbing Olivia, too, so we waited on line and then got all dressed in these wacky hats and wigs and dresses and posed really serious and unsmiling for the photo. When it came out, it was hilarious. We really looked like old-time people!
Olivia bustled around the party, actually relaxed and having fun, and her mom seemed to be in good spirits. It turned out Olivia’s dad was really nice, and I guess he set the tone for the party, because he was superfriendly and a really good host, chatting with all of us, making sure we had places to leave our coats and that we got enough to eat and drink. It made me see that maybe Olivia’s mom and dad represented the two sides of her—the nice and the not-as-nice. I just hoped she’d grow up to be more like her dad, even if for her own sake.
By the end of the night, we were flopped on the floor in Olivia’s room, looking at photos on her laptop, talking about past holidays and laughing about what dorks we were when we were little and all the things we used to ask for the holidays.
“I was soooo into Barbies!” admitted Olivia.
“Shocker!” I laughed.
“I always liked American Girl,” said Alexis.
“Me too,” agreed Katie. “Especially all that furniture.”
“I was more of an animal person. I think I used to get pumped for Beanie Babies, all those little kitties and puppies and stuff,” I offered.
“I liked the Bratz, of course,” said Mia.
“Of course!” We all laughed again. Even though we didn’t know her way back when, we could be sure Mia had always been into fashion.
“What are you guys asking for this year?” asked Olivia.
Everyone mentioned a thing or two, but we agreed there was nothing anyone really wanted. “I’m doing a lot of homemade gifts this year,” I said.
“That’s such a good idea!” said Olivia. “Maybe I’ll do that. I’ve still got a week.”
I couldn’t believe this was the same Olivia Allen I’d wanted to punch in the nose only a few days earlier. It’s amazing what the holiday spirit will do to people—to her and to me, of course.
“Well, I think we’d better get going,” I said, standing up. “Olivia, this was one of the best parties I’ve ever been to in my life. And I’m not just saying that. Thank you so much.”
“Thank you all for coming,” she said. “This really . . . meant a lot to me. It’s the best present I could have gotten this year,” she added shyly.
We thanked her parents and got our coats, and Olivia walked us to the door and hugged everyone good-bye. None of us said anything, but I knew we were feeling guilty. My dad was picking us up so that everyone could come sleep over at my house and exchange gifts. I toyed with the idea of spontaneously inviting Olivia, but I knew it would be awkward since no one had a gift for her. We could be friends with her, but she wasn’t a member of the Cupcake Club. At least not for the foreseeable future.
Back at my house, my brothers were all there, and some of their friends too, and it turned out to be kind of a rowdy and fun end of the night. We played Ping-Pong in the basement, and mini-hockey on the rug in the TV room, and then we watched A Christmas Story on TV and had popcorn. I suddenly had the idea that Alexis could help Matt with his website as a holiday gift, and she thought that was brilliant. She vowed to go home and create a gift certificate to present to him this week. Later, the Cupcakers and I trudged upstairs to my room to lay out the sleeping bags and exchange our gifts.
Mia went first. She’d designed stretchy headbands for all of us, and her mom’s friend had run them up on a sewing machine. They were so perfect. Alexis’s was navy blue velvet with seed pearls, and it looked so pretty against her red hair. Katie’s was purple with multicolored sequins sewn on, and mine was white satin with a lace overlay to wear at Mona’s for my next job. It was so thoughtful.
Katie had loomed each of us an elaborate-colored rubber band bracelet. Mine was an elaborate rainbow heart, and I couldn’t imagine how long it had taken her to make it. Alexis’s was a star pattern, and Mia’s was a square pattern, chunky, like something a model would wear. They all looked awesome and so stylish.
Alexis went next and she handed around date books for each of us. She’d covered them with pretty contact paper in different patterns for each of us, and then she’d filled in important dates inside that corresponded to our interests. Katie’s had NYC Restaurant Week blocked out and her favorite chefs’ birthdays marked with big stars. Mia’s had Fashion Week blocked out, as well as the Oscars and a bunch of her favorite fashion designers’ birthdays highlighted. Mine had listings of my favorite composers’ birthdays, as well as having the New York Philharmonic’s main concert dates penciled in. It was so thoughtful.
And, finally, it was my turn.
I stood and cleared my throat.
“Uh-oh!” joked Mia.
“A speech!” said Alexis.
“No, it’s a poem!” Katie laughed.
“Actually,” I said, fake-glaring at them, “I have composed a song for you. It has Alexis’s logic and organization, Mia’s passion and drama, and Katie’s beauty and comfort. I’ll play it now and then make a recording to send to you by e-mail.”
I opened my flute case, so I didn’t have to meet anyone’s eye. I hoped they weren’t laughing at me. I’d worked so hard on it, but part of me thought it might be a lame gift, or a cop-out, now that it was actually time to perform it. But it was all that I had. Just a part of me to give to them.
I cleared my throat, licked my lips, and raised the flute to my mouth. Then I closed my eyes and began to play. It seemed to last forever, but when it was over, I was scared to open my eyes. There was a dead silence, and finally, I opened my eyes and looked at my friends.
They were all crying.
I started to laugh and cry at the same time. “Did you like it?”
Mia laughed and wiped at her eyes. “Like it? Silly, we loved it!”
They grabbed me and pulled me into a big group hug.
“That’s the best present I’ve even gotten, and I am not kidding. Even better than my Felicity doll from American Girl!” said Katie, and we all laughed.
“Well, it wasn’t better than an Easy-Bake oven, but it was pretty close,” joked Alexis. “It was just beautiful.”
They squeezed me tightly, and I knew that nothing was more beautiful than friendship. Especially during the holidays.
Want another sweet cupcake?
Here’s a sneak peek of the next book in the
series:
Alexis’s
cupcake
cupid
Table 4 Two
Pink sparkly sugar?”
Katie peered into her shopping basket. “Check.”
“Red food coloring?” I continued.
“Check.”
“Heart-shaped Red Hots?”
“Check.”
“Red-and-white–striped cupcake wrappers?”
“Check.”
“Red gel frosting?”
“Check.”
“Yay! Time to check out!” I said cheerfully.
I led the way to the register at Baker’s Hollow, the baking supplies store at the mall, and the Cupcake Club
’s home away from home. We had just been asked by a friend of Emma’s mom—somewhat last minute—to bake two dozen cupcakes for a ladies’ Valentine’s Day luncheon tomorrow.
Today is Saturday and the real Valentine’s Day is Monday, so we had decided to shop for the supplies together, just for fun. Since I run the finances for our baking club (with the other members’ skills as follows: Mia is in charge of style and appearance, Emma is in charge of marketing and publicity, and Katie is in charge of recipes), I had the money and was in charge of paying and then logging the purchase into my newly automated Excel spreadsheet on my tablet. (It replaced my leatherbound accounts ledger, which was running out of pages.)
The plan today was to get supplies for our Valentine’s cupcakes, buy Valentine’s Day cards for our families, then head back to Emma’s to whip up cupcakes and then, maybe a sleepover. But first we needed lunch.
In the food court, a new Asian street-food place had just opened, and we had to check it out. Emma loves spicy Asian food, and so does Mia. Katie likes all types of cuisines, and I don’t like spicy food at all, but Emma and Mia begged us, so we agreed to try it. The menu was awesome, and it had so many choices: dumplings, both steamed and pan-fried; marinated skewers of chicken and beef; scallion pancakes loaded with barbecue pork; noodles with shrimp and mushrooms, and every kind of topping you could imagine!
I was studying the menu when Mia interrupted my thoughts. “Hey! I heard that the theme for the middle-school Family Skating Party this year is Chinese New Year! Won’t that be cool?”
I am dreading the Family Skating Party more than maybe I have ever dreaded anything. Clearly, I am alone in this.
“Awesome!” Katie agreed with Mia. “They could do such pretty red party decor with that theme, and it kind of ties in with Valentine’s Day.”
“Great food options with the Chinese theme, too. Much better than the Wild West theme last year,” said Emma. “I hate eating ribs in public. So messy.” She shook her head and laughed.
The other girls laughed too, and I imagined chasing the butterflies in my stomach around with a net and then whacking them!
“Alexis, is something wrong? You’re being very quiet,” Mia said.
“Yes,” I answered grimly. “But don’t you remember that I can’t skate?”
“Wait, I thought you were going to take lessons!” said Emma.
I shook my head. “Didn’t have time. I still stink. I think I might not go.” I hated to miss a social opportunity where I might get to interact “in the real world” with Matt Taylor, Emma’s brother and the crush of my life. But that was the primary reason I wasn’t going. I couldn’t stand the idea of being mortified in front of Matt. What if he saw that I was a bad skater? He’s such a jock—he’d totally lose respect for me.
“Wait, whaaaat? What do you mean you might not go? You have to go!” said Emma, just as we reached the front of the line.
“I don’t want to discuss it,” I said. “Let’s order.”
We pooled our money and ordered a bunch of different stuff to mix and match and share. The place was really busy, and it only had these long communal tables, so while we waited for our food to be ready, we split up and got busy scouting for people who were leaving.
Katie found a very tight spot for us after a few minutes, and Mia and Emma went to help save the seats while I returned to the counter to wait for our order. I saw my friend Ella Klinsky from school, and we waved and gestured to how crazy-busy the place was. Now that I was looking around, I could see that a lot of kids from school were here, sprinkled around. This Asian restaurant was popular with middle schoolers, that was for sure. I wondered how many of them could skate.
I was lost in thought, holding the little buzzer that they give you to tell you when your food is ready, twirling it in my hands and thinking about Valentine’s Day. I know I am the no-nonsense type, but I am also kind of a sucker for all that romance stuff, believe it or not. I love the love songs on the radio, the romantic shows on TV, and my mom always decorates the table on Valentine’s Day morning for breakfast. We have heart-shaped pancakes, and she gives us cards and candy and a little pink or red present, like cute red socks or something. It’s a fun way to spice up blah old February, and I was looking forward to it.
Suddenly, someone right close behind me said, “Lexi?” I jumped and whirled around.
“Matt!” I cried. It was Matt Taylor, in the flesh! “Hi!” I felt myself blush hard (speaking of something red!), but I couldn’t stop grinning.
“Hi!” he said, laughing. “Did I scare you?”
“Well, I don’t exactly expect people to sneak up behind me in places like this and then speak directly into my ear!” I said, as if I was annoyed, but really I was just the opposite—thrilled!
“Sorry.” He smiled, kind of shy. “Uh, what do you recommend here?”
I looked up at the menu, still smiling like a dope. “Well, we got . . .” And as I started to list our order, my buzzer went off, and I jumped again.
Matt was really laughing at me now. “A little jumpy today, are we?”
“Hungry, maybe!” I said. I handed my buzzer to the girl at the counter, and she handed me our tray. I looked down at it, and my mouth began to water. My friends were waiting, my food was ready, but I didn’t want to leave. “Uh . . . where are you sitting?” I asked.
“I haven’t found a spot yet. I’m solo. I’m sure I can just wedge in somewhere,” he said, all casual. It was almost his turn to order.
“Well . . . join us if you want. We can squeeze together,” I said, wincing inwardly. Our spot was tiny. But I would happily squeeze in for him.
“Thanks. I’ll look for you after I get my food.”
I said good-bye and went to my friends, lowering the heavy tray onto the table. “Hey, Em, Matt’s here,” I said, like it was totally normal and cool.
She glanced up. “Oh yeah? He said he needed to go to the sporting goods store today, so I’m not surprised.”
“He has no one to eat with,” I said, doling out the food and perching on the end of the bench.
“Well, he can’t sit here,” Emma said grumpily. “There’s no room!”
I grimaced and took a bite of a dumpling. It was delicious, and for a few minutes of bliss, I forgot all about Matt and ice-skating. “This is insane! Sooooo yummy!” I moaned.
We all traded containers and bites back and forth. Then I remembered about Matt, and I looked around. He had found a seat on his own near the end of another table. His back was to us and the seat across from him was empty. My heart clenched a little to see him eating all alone. I wanted to go join him, but I was nervous that my friends would get mad if I ditched them. Or worse, that if I went over there, someone would sit in the empty seat just as I reached it, and I’d be left standing there like a nerd—that would be so embarrassing. My palms began to sweat a little as I wrestled with the decision. Should I stay or should I go? I’d lost my appetite.
The other girls began discussing what they were going to get at the stationery store, and I sort of followed along distractedly as I stared at Matt’s strong back and broad shoulders. I wondered if I should give him a valentine this year. The very thought made me feel sick to my stomach, but my dad always said you should do what you are afraid of doing, so maybe I should do it. Hmm.
“Okay, Alexis?” asked Emma.
“Huh? What?” I said, snapping out of my daydream.
“The stationery store?”
“Oh. Uh . . . you know what? I’ll just meet you there in a few minutes, okay? I . . . have one more thing to do.” Did I really just ditch my friends for a boy? Bad, bad Alexis! But if they caught on, they didn’t seem to mind, and they didn’t ask any questions (and I didn’t offer any further explanation). We threw out our garbage—sorting everything into three cool-looking bins—one for food waste, one for paper stuff (which was most of it), and one for the few plastic cups and forks. Then they headed off and I doubled back to Matt’s table. Luckily, Matt had bought
a lot of food, so he was only about two thirds of the way finished.
“Hey,” I said, all casual.
“Hey! Sit down!” He smiled and then wiped his mouth. “Awesome food, right?”
“Awesome,” I agreed, perching in the mercifully still-empty seat across from him. “It was definitely time for a change around here. They needed to mix it up. I mean, how much Chinese food and pizza can they expect us to eat?”
Matt laughed and put his hand over his heart. “Hey, don’t bust on my Panda Gardens.”
I glanced across the food court at the Panda Gardens counter where everything was quiet. “You’d better get some soon, because I don’t think they’re going to be here much longer.”
Matt gasped, all fake-horrified. “Take it back!”
I laughed. “I won’t!” I put my hands to my mouth, like I was going to yell over to Panda Gardens, Hey, PG, time to pack it in!
Matt reached for my hands and tried to pry them from my face. I was laughing, and he was laughing, and I kept putting up my hands, so he would keep grabbing them away. It was funny, and it was soooo nice to feel his hands touch mine. He held my hands for one instant extra. We were both smiling, and then he said, “Well, I don’t want to keep you from your friends.”
“Oh, that’s okay. They’re in the stationery store. I have to go meet them in a minute. What are you up to now?”
Matt told me his errand list as we stood up together and went to recycle or throw away his stuff. We found ourselves at the edge of the seating area, about to part ways. I was desperate to think of a way to prolong the encounter or to get him to touch my hands again, but I was distracted by his cuteness. My brain just wasn’t working fast enough.
