by Coco Simon
The day was pretty uneventful until the doorbell rang—and Emma was standing there in her jeans.
“Hey,” she said. “Can I come in?”
“Sure,” I said. “Um, Sebastian’s not here.”
Emma blushed. “That’s not why I came. I mean, it would be nice if he were here. But Alexis told me that she booked three more cupcake jobs this morning, so we’re in good shape. And I was out for a walk, so I thought I’d tell you.”
“That’s great news!” I said, and Emma followed me into the kitchen. “I think Eddie made cookies last night. Want some?”
“Thanks,” Emma said, and we sat down for some cookies and milk.
I took a deep breath. “So, I talked to Sebastian,” I said, and Emma looked at me hopefully. “He has a girlfriend back in Puerto Rico. Or had. I’m not sure, but he seems pretty hung up on her still.”
Emma nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense. Well, thanks for asking.”
“So you’re okay?” I asked.
“Of course,” Emma said. “It was just a stupid crush.”
I was so relieved! Emma seemed to be taking the news really well. And now I didn’t have to worry about Emma crushing on Sebastian and whether or not he liked her back.
I gave my bracelet a little jangle. Thursday was just a bump in the road. My good luck was back, and I had a feeling it was going to stay that way.
CHAPTER 11
Totally Crummy!
Mmm . . . maple!” Katie said, dipping a tiny spoon into the frosting and tasting it. “This is definitely maple-y enough now.”
Emma, Alexis, and I all took a taste.
“Definitely maple-y,” Emma agreed.
It was Wednesday night, and we were in Katie’s kitchen, baking cupcakes for the historical society event on Thursday. We do our baking at Katie’s house a lot because her kitchen is stocked like a professional bakery—or, at least, it seems that way to me. There’s a big pantry with five different kinds of flour (white flour, bread flour, wheat flour . . .), even more different kinds of sugar (white sugar, brown sugar, sparkling sugar . . .), jars of sprinkles in every color, and tons of baking pans and supplies.
Katie’s kitchen is cheerful, too. It’s white and yellow, and there are cute accessories on the counter, like a cookie jar with a smiley face on it. Colorful vintage aprons hang from hooks on the pantry door. It looks exactly like the kind of kitchen where cupcakes should be baked. Sometimes I think our cupcakes come out better when we bake them in Katie’s kitchen.
“I made a test batch on my own over the weekend,” Katie said. “I used pure maple syrup, but they didn’t taste quite maple-y enough. So I looked up some recipes online, and a lot of them called for maple extract. It has a more concentrated flavor. Luckily, I found it at the supply shop.”
“Don’t forget to give me your receipt for that,” Alexis said.
Katie nodded. “Yes, I saved it. You have trained me well.”
Alexis grinned. “Finally!”
We had baked one sheet cake of chocolate cake, so that we could make the spools of thread, along with four dozen maple cupcakes with maple frosting, for the event. We had two left over, so when they were baked and frosted, we cut them in half and tasted them.
“Delicious!” Alexis said. “And they’ll look even more beautiful tomorrow when they’re all decorated.”
“I’ve got all the stuff,” I said. “Tomorrow after school at my house.”
“My dad can drive us to the society,” Alexis explained. “He’ll pick us up at four forty-five, so we’ll have to decorate pretty quickly.”
“That’s almost two hours. We can do it,” I said confidently.
Then we packed our finished cupcakes in the plastic carriers we have—to keep them fresh and from getting smooshed—and we called it a night.
The next day, after school, Katie took the bus all the way to my house. Emma and Alexis would have to get a ride since they live close to the school and aren’t allowed to get on the bus with us. They would bring the cupcakes with them.
When Katie and I walked into the house, Mom and Eddie were standing in the living room, like they had been waiting for me.
“Hi, Katie!” Mom said. “I didn’t know you were coming over today.”
“We’re decorating the cupcakes for the historical society event tonight,” I said. “I told you.”
Mom shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she said. “Are you starting soon? Eddie and I need to talk to you.”
She said it in that You are in so much trouble voice that she has. I got a bad feeling. I looked over at Katie, who was staring down at her sneakers.
“Katie, will you please excuse us while we talk in the kitchen?” Eddie asked.
“Sure,” Katie said.
I followed Mom and Eddie into the kitchen. Mom launched in right away.
“Mia, I got an e-mail from Mrs. Kratzer, your social studies teacher,” she said, and my heart sank. I definitely was in so much trouble. “You got a D+ on your last two quizzes, apparently, and your average has dropped from an A to a C-. She is worried about you. What’s been going on?”
The doorbell rang. “I can’t talk about it now,” I said. “But it’s no big deal. I didn’t do the reading, but now I’m caught up.”
“That is a big deal,” Mom said sternly, and Eddie nodded behind her. “But I won’t embarrass you in front of your friends. We’ll discuss this later.”
I was relieved, even though I knew I was probably in for it later. Katie had let in Emma and Alexis, and they marched into the kitchen with the cupcakes.
“I’ll set up everything,” I said, and from a cabinet, I got the supplies that Mom and I had purchased.
“Somebody needs to start cutting out the spool shapes,” I said, putting the tube-shape cutter on the table. “And somebody else can turn the licorice into tiny balls of yarn.”
“Ooh, me!” cried Emma, taking the bag of licorice from me.
“I’ll start coloring and rolling out the fondant, and then we can stamp and cut out the button shapes,” I said, and then I realized something. “Oh no! I forgot to buy the cute buttons!”
“Maybe your Mom has some,” Alexis suggested. “Go ask her, and we’ll get started here.”
I found Mom in her office.
“Mom, do you have any buttons we could use?” I asked.
Mom looked confused. “I thought all your decorations had to be edible,” she said.
“They do, but we need to stamp the buttons into the fondant to make the decorations,” I said.
“What kind do you need?” Mom asked.
I showed her the one on my bracelet. “Cute ones, like this.”
Mom frowned. “I think everything I’ve got is modern and kind of plain,” she said. “But I’ll get them in case there’s something you can use.”
I sighed. “Thanks, Mom.”
When I got back to the kitchen, Alexis was mixing yellow coloring into the fondant, Emma was busy making yarn balls, and Katie had cut a dozen spool shapes out of the sheet cake.
“So how do I stick the cookies to the top and bottom of the spool of thread?” Katie asked. “With frosting, right?”
“Yeah,” I replied, and then it hit me again. “Oh no! We forgot to make extra frosting!”
Alexis checked the clock. “Argh. Is there time?”
“I can make frosting in a flash. I’ll run home to get some supplies, but I’ll be right back,” Katie said, rushing off to her house.
I felt terrible! It was my job to make sure everything was set for the decorations, and now we were scrambling. I remembered Katie’s words.
Sometimes that’s how the cupcake crumbles. I quickly banished the thought from my mind. The last thing we needed now was crumbling cupcakes!
Mom came into the kitchen with some plastic containers of buttons, and I quickly looked through them. She was right. They were mostly boring, but I found some small round ones with a raised border around the edge that would make good stamps. The
y would work just fine, although they weren’t as special as I had wanted. I looked down at my bracelet.
“Okay, lucky button, you’re on,” I said, and I detached it from the bracelet. Then I walked over to Alexis.
“I’ll roll out the fondant,” I said. “Can you make a batch of green and a batch of blue?”
Alexis nodded. “On it.”
My hands were getting sweaty because I knew we were behind. I rolled out the fondant to about half an inch thick—it was okay if the buttons were a little thick, because they would hold up better.
Katie came back with frosting supplies and started on a new batch, and just when I was feeling like I had things under control, a sound like a truck crashing suddenly came from the basement.
“Oh, great. Band practice,” Alexis said.
“Sorry, I forgot,” I said.
“Katie, are you finished with that frosting?” Alexis asked. “I need to put some in my ears!”
“Well, I don’t mind it,” Emma said, and then there was kind of an awkwardness, because I guess we all knew about Sebastian’s girlfriend by then. But the awkwardness disappeared because we were too busy to be awkward!
Emma rolled the thin licorice rope into a dozen adorable tiny balls of yarn. Then she helped Katie with the spools of thread. Each one was very painstaking. Katie finished the frosting (vanilla with blue food coloring) and filled up two pastry bags. One had a wide tip, and the other had a skinny tip. Katie used the wide tip to put a blob of frosting on one side of each cookie. Then she stuck a cookie onto each end of the spool-shaped chocolate cake.
Katie handed each spool off to Emma, and Emma used the pastry bag with the small tip to pipe a line of frosting around and around the spool, so that it looked like thread. The tip of her tongue stuck out of the corner of the mouth as she worked, concentrating.
“This is hard,” she said.
“I’m sorry I can’t help you,” I said. “These buttons are taking forever!”
Alexis and I were stamping the buttons facedown into the fondant. Then we had to use a craft knife to cut around the buttons and gently lift them up out of the fondant. The first one I did broke—and for each cupcake, we needed four or five buttons for the best effect.
After I had made about twenty buttons, I looked at the clock. It was four fifteen, and I knew Alexis’s dad, Mr. Becker, would be here in about a half an hour. Katie and Emma only had about five spools done, and none of the cupcakes had decorations on top yet!
While I was worrying, the music stopped, and the sound of stomping came up the stairs. Dan, Sebastian, and the two other guys in the band came up. This time, instead of going their separate ways, they all came into the kitchen.
“It’s the Cupcake Club!” said Sebastian, grinning.
“Dan, we’re really busy right now,” I said. “Do you mind?”
The two other guys were leaning over the table, curious. Alexis eyed them.
“Hey, do you guys want to help?” she asked.
They shrugged.
“Sure,” said one kid. “What do you need?”
Dan was leaning against the refrigerator with a glass of milk, rolling his eyes.
“Wash your hands,” she instructed, and to my amazement, the boys obeyed.
“Who’s the lead guitarist?” she asked, and a boy with a crew cut raised his hand.
“Me. I’m Mark.”
“Okay, Mark, you’ve got dexterity in your fingers. See if you can help Emma with the spools of thread. Sebastian, help Katie with the cookies. Other guy, we need you to put four buttons on each cupcake. Choose different colors and make them look nice,” Alexis ordered. “Dan, you can do that too.”
I watched, amazed, as the boys went to work. They didn’t seem to mind taking orders from an eighth-grade girl—but Alexis is not your average eighth-grade girl.
I was even more amazed when the boys ended up doing a great job. Sam was great with the frosting, and he made the spools of thread look exactly like small, edible spools of thread! Emma began to place the finished ones on the cupcakes.
When Alexis and I finally stopped cutting out buttons, Dan and the other guy (whose name, I later found out, was Rick) helped us put the buttons on the rest of the cupcakes. Then we all pitched in, carefully putting the cupcakes back into their holders just as we heard a car’s horn beep outside.
“My dad’s here!” Alexis announced, heading for the door.
“Okay, we just need to wash up,” I said. I turned to Dan. “Thanks.”
Dan shrugged. “No problem.”
Katie washed her hands in the sink and was drying them on a towel when Sebastian walked up to her.
“Hey, Katie, maybe we can get a pizza sometime,” he said.
Emma was at the sink too, and she shut off the water. The kitchen got quiet really fast.
Katie looked confused. “You mean, you and me? Just the two of us?”
“Yeah,” said Sebastian. “I thought we could hang out.”
“Thanks, but I kind of have a boyfriend, sort of,” Katie babbled awkwardly. “I mean, I’m not allowed to have a boyfriend yet, but if I did have one, it would be George. George Martinez. He’s in my grade.”
Sebastian smiled. “Oh, okay,” he said.
What was that all about? I wondered, but then Sebastian walked up to me.
“I thought you said she liked me?” he asked in a loud whisper.
“I never said that!” I protested, and then, from the corner of my eye, I saw Emma listening to us. She ran out of the house, and I ran after her.
I’m fast, but Emma was faster. She darted around the corner before I could catch up to her. Alexis walked up to me, holding two cupcake carriers.
“What was that about?” she asked.
“It’s a big mess,” I explained. “For some stupid reason, Sebastian thought I told him that Katie liked him. I just said one of my friends liked him, and he thought it was Katie because of the way she jokes around with him. And now Emma’s mad at me.”
Alexis looked down the empty street. “She’s probably just embarrassed. I’ll text her on the way to the historical society. We really need to get those cupcakes there on time.”
“This is awful,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”
Katie came out with the rest of the cupcake holders, looking upset. “Where did that come from?” she asked. “Why does Sebastian think I like him? And where’s Emma?”
“It’s a long story.” I sighed. “Come on, we’d better go.”
We loaded up the car, and Alexis’s dad drove us to the historical society. The whole way there, I looked out the window, hoping to see Emma. I felt terrible.
This was more than just crumbling cupcakes. This was bad luck, for sure!
CHAPTER 12
I Finally Figure It Out!
It felt weird going to the historical society without Emma. The society is in an old Victorian home on a street lined with maple trees. Mr. Becker helped us carry the cupcake stands we use into the building.
When we got inside, Sophie and her mom were there to greet us. Mrs. Baudin was all dressed up in a chic black suit, her hair pulled back in a low bun.
“The cupcakes are here!” she cried happily. “Sophie, help the girls set things up. I can’t wait to see them!”
“Sure,” Sophie said. “Dessert’s going to be held in the parlor.”
She led us into a room at the front of the house. The furniture all looked like something out of the past. There was a pretty sofa against the wall, upholstered in pink fabric with cream flowers, set in a frame of dark wood that was carved with more flowers. On the opposite wall was a carved wooden table with a white tablecloth draped over it, flanked by two chairs that matched the couch. A modern-day folding table with a cloth over it had been set up for the cupcakes.
What interested me most, though, were the blown-up black-and-white photographs set up on easels around the room. They showed rows and rows of women bent over sewing machines, hard at work.
I st
udied one of the photos. “Wow,” I said. “Can you imagine doing that all day?”
“And it was a long day,” said Mrs. Baudin, coming up behind me. “Twelve, thirteen, fourteen hours sometimes.”
I shook my head. “That’s hard to believe.”
“I’ll take the cupcake business over that any day,” said Katie as she carefully placed the cupcakes onto the cupcake stands we had brought.
Mrs. Baudin clapped her hands and went to the table. “Oh my goodness, look how perfect these are! Yarn! Thread! Buttons!”
“And they’re maple flavored, for Maple Grove,” Katie added.
“Wonderful!” said Mrs. Baudin. “Now, which one of you gets the check?”
“That would be me,” said Alexis, handing her a business card in return. “Thank you for your business. Please recommend us to your friends.”
“Oh, I will,” Mrs. Baudin said. “In fact, if you have some more cards on you, I’ll distribute them to the members of the society.”
Alexis grinned. “Of course I have more cards!” she said. “Thank you. We appreciate that.”
I studied the photos a little bit more as we packed up our carriers.
“These will be on display all month,” Mrs. Baudin told me. “You should come back some other time.”
“Thanks, I would like that,” I said, and I meant it. Something about those photos was really getting to me. But I couldn’t put my finger on it, because I was still worried about Emma.
“Did she text you back?” I asked Alexis when we got in the car.
“She’s home,” Alexis replied. “She doesn’t feel like talking. But I’m sure she’ll be fine by tomorrow. I tried to explain to her what happened.”
“Thanks,” I said, and I leaned back against the car seat. I felt exhausted.
When I got home, Sebastian and the band guys were gone and Eddie had dinner on the stove—his famous spaghetti. After dinner, I realized I had a vocab sheet to do, and I sighed. I spread out the contents of my backpack in the dining room and looked at the clock. It was seven o’clock.
Twelve, thirteen, fourteen hours, Mrs. Baudin had said. So if those women had started early in the morning, they might still be sewing. What a long, hard day they had had.
