by Janae Marks
We didn’t say anything as Dad paid for our ice creams, or while he grabbed way too many napkins, like every other time we’d gone there. Mom picked up a spoon even though she had a cone. Then we went outside and found an empty bench in the square.
I stared ahead at all of the people walking around Davis and licked my ice cream before it could melt all over me.
“So, when are you going to tell us more about your internship?” Dad asked me.
I shrugged.
“Ari says you’re doing a great job so far.” Mom smiled and licked her ice cream.
I nodded, suppressing my own smile. Kids Bake Challenge! audition, here I come.
“C’mon, Zoe. Talk to us,” Dad said, gently nudging me with his shoulder.
I turned to Mom. “I want to write a letter to Marcus.”
Mom looked taken aback. “What? We talked about this.”
“But you’re not letting me have a say.”
Her mouth formed a straight line. She glanced at Dad before looking at me again. “Because you’re not ready to have a say.”
“I disagree,” I said.
“Why don’t we talk about this when we get home,” Dad said.
I ignored him and asked Mom, “Why are you so scared of me writing to him?”
“I’m not scared,” Mom said. “I’m concerned.”
“Why?”
“He’s a convicted murderer.”
Convicted, yes. But guilty? Maybe not.
“Do you really think he did it?” I asked.
“Did what?” Mom asked.
“Do you really think Marcus killed someone? He said he was innocent. During the trial,” I quickly added.
“How do you know that?” she asked.
“Um . . .” I thought fast. “I looked him up online. I was curious about him. I read that he pleaded ‘not guilty’ before the trial.”
“You can’t trust him. He’s—”
“How do you know?” I asked. “Do you really think he could kill someone?”
Mom looked down at her ice cream. Finally, she said, “I didn’t want to believe it at first. But I was at the trial and I heard all the testimony. Marcus was the last person seen with Lucy.”
“What if that witness got it wrong?”
“He lied to me about hanging out with her at all. I couldn’t trust him anymore.” She paused and then said, “I don’t know. Maybe he didn’t mean to do it, but I still think he could’ve.”
“But you don’t know for sure!”
“You’re right,” Mom said. “But I have to go with my gut on this.”
Grandma had said the same thing about her gut. Except she believed Marcus.
I turned to Dad. “What do you think?”
He thought about it. “I know this stinks. But I think your mom knows what’s best for you.”
All of a sudden, I felt trapped, sitting on that bench between the two of them. I stood up.
Mom stood up too, and her voice got louder. “Zoe, I’m only trying to protect you.”
Dad, still sitting on the bench, grabbed Mom’s wrist, but she shook him off.
“I know you’re curious about him,” Mom said to me. “I get that. But please don’t be mad at me. None of this is my fault. Marcus being in prison is not my fault.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a few people staring at us. I ignored them.
“It’s your fault I can’t write to him,” I said. “My own father! You’re keeping him from me!”
“Yes. And I’m doing the right thing,” Mom said.
I stared at her, my eyes filling with tears, as she stood there breathing heavily. I turned away from her, and then felt something cold and wet on my fingers. My ice cream cone was dripping everywhere. I walked to the nearest trash can and threw the cone into it. Dad came up behind me and handed me a couple of napkins, which I used to wipe my hands off. He tried to put his arm around me, but I wiggled out of his way.
“Let’s go home,” Dad said quietly.
Without a word, I followed him back to where we parked the car. Mom trailed behind us.
On the drive back, part of me wished I hadn’t ruined the night by bringing up Marcus at all. But most of me was determined to prove them wrong.
Chapter Nineteen
The Ari’s Cakes kitchen was really quiet when I walked in the next morning. Vincent, wearing a red bandanna, was overseeing the mixer, and Rosa was setting the timer on the wall of ovens. Liz was at the big metal table in the middle of the room, using a piping bag to pipe shimmery dark-blue icing onto what looked like vanilla cupcakes. Corey, on the other side of the table, carefully placed fondant decorations on the iced cupcakes. The finished ones each had a small, silver crescent moon and three mini gold stars. Ariana was helping Liz with the icing, and I watched in amazement as she piped a whole row super fast.
Everyone was so focused on what they were working on that nobody noticed me walk into the kitchen. I went up to Ariana and cleared my throat. “Um, good morning.”
“Oh—morning, Zoe,” Ariana said as she continued piping.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“We have a huge rush order this morning. Five hundred decorated cupcakes need to be ready by noon. It’s all hands on deck.”
“Cool! What should I do?” I asked.
Ariana paused her icing just long enough to glance at everyone else around the kitchen. “Why don’t you help Corey with the fondant. He’s cutting out moons and stars, so super simple, but there are a million of them.”
“Okay.”
I walked around the table until I was next to Corey.
“Hi, Corey,” I said. “How can I help?”
“Hey, Zoe. Let’s see. Can you roll out more fondant?” He pointed to two huge balls of fondant—one was gold, and the other was silver. “You can start with the gold. Take that rolling pin, and roll it out like dough. Sprinkle some confectioners’ sugar on the table first. It should be about half an inch all around when you’re done.”
“Got it.” It sounded easy enough. I picked up the rolling pin and got to work. It took some strength at first to get the huge ball to flatten out, but then it was just a matter of rolling it over and over until it was flat enough.
As I rolled, my mind wandered back to my fight with Mom outside of J.P. Licks. I hadn’t been able to think about much else all morning. She was never going to take my side—not unless I found Marcus’s alibi witness and showed her that he really was innocent. If he truly was innocent . . . I didn’t want Mom to be right about him.
What I really wanted to do was bang on the fondant over and over with the rolling pin until all my anger at Mom came out of me. But of course, I couldn’t do that—not unless I wanted Ariana to kick me out of her kitchen.
I rolled and rolled, and daydreamed about finding Marcus’s witness and being able to tell Mom that she was wrong. She’d have to apologize, and the Innocence Project would get Marcus out of prison. I’d finally get to meet him. We could play basketball together, or go to a Celtics game. He could cook me dinner, and I’d bake the dessert. Maybe I’d even have my own cookbook, because Mom and Dad would let me go on the Kids Bake Challenge!, and of course I’d win. And Marcus could be there to see it.
“Not so hard, Zoe,” Ariana said, suddenly beside me.
“Huh?” I looked down at the fondant. Shoot. I must’ve pushed too hard on the rolling pin, and now the fondant was way too thin. “Sorry! I’ll start over.” I started to pick up the fondant so I could shape it back into another ball.
Ariana looked at the clock on the wall and then back at me. “You know what, I’ll take over. Why don’t you go up front, see if Gabe needs any help with customers.”
“Wait. I can fix it.”
“I know. It’s just, this is for a really important customer, and I’d rather take care of it myself.” She patted my shoulder. “I bet Gabe could use some help.”
“Okay . . . ,” I said reluctantly. I watched for a few seconds while Arian
a started piling the fondant back up until it looked like a mound of clay again.
It suddenly felt like a mound of clay was sitting in my gut.
I left the kitchen and found Gabe up front, ringing up a customer. When he was finished, I said, “Ariana says you need help up here?”
“Oh, really?” Gabe said, looking around the shop. “Hmm. We’re kinda slow today. But I know what you can help with. One sec.” He left and went into the kitchen.
Maybe I’d get to help with the window display. That could be super fun.
But then Gabe came back with a box. A box that looked really familiar.
No . . .
He put it on the floor and opened it. Sure enough, it was filled with flat cardboard in the shop’s signature blue. Gabe opened a cabinet under the coffee machine. “We’re short on boxes under here. Think you can help me put some together? It’s super easy.”
“Oh, I know.” I picked up a box and quickly assembled it.
“That’s perfect!” he said, as if it was actually hard to do.
“And when you’re done, you can help me refill the napkin holders.”
Great. I forced a smile, and got to work.
Back to boxes, and it was all my fault for getting distracted in the kitchen.
I couldn’t let that happen again. I wouldn’t. What would Ruby Willow do? She’d put all of her energy into accomplishing her goal, just like when she was on Kids Bake Challenge! If I was going to make it onto that show, if I was going to be a real pastry chef one day, I had to focus on baking.
There was only one month left of summer and my internship, and I’d been so absorbed in thinking about Marcus that I hadn’t even come up with my own cupcake recipe yet.
I had to get to work—and fast.
I brainstormed cupcake ideas over the next couple of days, but it was even harder than I thought. My list included lemonade cupcakes—inspired by Grandma’s tea—and a sweet and savory cupcake that included potato chips. But none of those seemed original enough.
When Grandma showed up with Marcus’s next letter, I opened it right away, happy for the distraction.
To my Little Tomato,
Wow. Wow, wow, wow. That is what went through my head when I opened your letter and saw your school photo. You are such a beautiful girl. You definitely have your mom’s smile. Thank you so much for sharing it with me. I will cherish it forever.
You asked for a recipe. My mom makes the best macaroni and cheese. Just thinking about it makes my mouth water. I know that recipe by heart, so I wrote it on the back of this letter. If you make it, I’d love to know what you think.
Life in here is nothing like my life before, but I still get to read books, exercise, and watch TV. Sometimes I’ll join a pickup game of basketball in the rec yard. I have a couple friends—guys that have been here a while like me, and aren’t trying to get into trouble.
I know my last letter was probably confusing. I wish we lived in a fairer world, where only guilty people went to prison. But I think the best thing for us to do is leave the past behind us, as I’ve tried to do, and focus on the here and now. Right now, I’m happy that I got your letter and this beautiful picture.
I’ve been thinking. Your grandma said I could call you at her house. Maybe we should try that. How about on August 15 around three p.m.? By then, you should have this letter and can hopefully make plans to be at your grandma’s house.
In terms of a unique ingredient for a cupcake, that’s hard! But you know, when I was younger my favorite thing to eat was cereal. It’s so bad, but my favorite was always the colorful sugary cereals. I rotated between all of them. I’d find the biggest bowl in our kitchen and fill it up. The cereal would turn the milk different colors, and I’d sit on the couch with the humongous bowl on my lap, watching cartoons. Maybe you can make some kind of cereal cupcake?
Finally, here’s a new song for your playlist: “Golden,” by Jill Scott.
Love,
Marcus
Chapter Twenty
Trevor’s eyes widened as he watched me take the boxes out of the grocery bag and line them up on his kitchen counter. Froot Loops. Reese’s Puffs. Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Cocoa Pebbles.
“What’s with all the cereal?” Trevor asked.
“I’m gonna use one of them in a cupcake recipe.” Cereal cupcakes! It was such a good idea; I wished I’d thought of it myself. Everyone loved cereal, especially the sugary kind. I couldn’t wait to start experimenting, so after I got Marcus’s letter, I asked Grandma to take me to the grocery store again. She wouldn’t let me get full boxes of each cereal, but she got me a variety pack of the mini boxes when I told her why I needed them.
“Cereal cupcakes?” Trevor asked, scratching his nose.
“Yes. Wait, does that not sound good?”
“No. I mean, I don’t know.”
“I think it could be really yummy,” I said. “But first I have to figure out which cereal to use. Wanna help me taste-test them?”
Trevor’s eyes lit up. “Sure! Mom never lets me eat this stuff. She says there’s too much sugar.”
“That’s kind of the point of it,” I said.
He grabbed two bowls from the cabinet, two spoons from the drawer, and the carton of milk from the refrigerator.
Trevor went straight for the Cocoa Pebbles, filling his bowl and pouring milk on top. “Mmm,” he said as he chewed his first bite. “I vote for these.”
“You’re only voting for those because they’re chocolate.”
“And?”
I shrugged and poured myself a small bowl of it, too. It was pretty chocolaty, but I could imagine pairing it with peanut butter. Like, maybe a chocolate peanut butter cupcake with Cocoa Pebbles in the batter, so when you bit into the finished cupcake, you’d get crunchy bits. And then I could put more of the flakes in vanilla buttercream icing.
I poured the rest of the cereal in the trash so I could try the next one.
“What are you doing?” Trevor’s face twisted in offense. “You’re wasting perfectly good cereal!”
I rolled my eyes at him and grabbed the next box—Froot Loops. “I like the idea of using this one,” I told Trevor. “Because it’s so colorful. Maybe I could make tie-dye cupcakes or something.” I took a bite and grimaced. It was a little too sweet, like in a fake way. “Hmm.” I stared at the bowl and thought about how I could make it work.
Then there was the sound of footsteps on our front porch, and a knock at Trevor’s front door.
“Trev! You home?” someone called out.
I froze. That was Lincoln’s voice. He was probably with Sean.
Trevor glanced at me and then toward the front of his house.
“One sec,” he said to me. “I’ll . . . tell them I’m busy.”
I didn’t say anything as Trevor left the room. Once he went down the hall to open the front door, I moved into the hallway and stood to the side of the staircase. I didn’t dare move closer to the front door, because I didn’t want the boys to see me. This meant I couldn’t see them either, but I could hear every word.
This better not be a repeat of what happened the last time I listened in.
“You free to play?” Sean asked once Trevor opened the door. There was the sound of a basketball dribbling on the porch.
“Can’t today,” Trevor said.
“Why not?”
I held my breath.
“I’m doing something.” He paused. “Zoe’s over.”
“Washington?” Lincoln said. “Why are you hanging out with her?”
“Did your parents make you?” Sean asked. “That really sucks.”
“Just ditch her,” Lincoln said.
“No,” Trevor said. “My parents didn’t make me. We’re . . .”
I squeezed my hands together.
“. . . She’s my friend.”
Lincoln and Sean broke out laughing, but then they trailed off.
“Wait, you’re serious?” Lincoln asked.
“Yeah,” Tre
vor said. “She’s cool. I never should’ve said that stuff about her. I didn’t mean it.”
“Ohh, I get it,” Sean said. “She’s your girlfriend now.”
Lincoln burst out laughing.
My face got really hot, and I buried it in my hands.
“What? No,” Trevor said. “It’s not like that.”
“You totally like her!” Lincoln said.
“No!” Trevor said.
I looked up at the wall. Should I run back to the kitchen? Will they hear me if I do?
“I like her as a friend,” Trevor said. “You guys have to shut up about her. Okay?”
“Okaaay,” Sean said.
“Yeah, whatever,” Lincoln said. “So you can’t hang out?”
“I’ll catch up with you later,” Trevor said.
“Later,” Lincoln and Sean said at the same time.
Trevor’s storm door creaked open and shut, and I turned around and jetted back into the kitchen. I picked up a box of cereal and pretended to focus on reading it.
A couple of seconds later, Trevor walked in. “So you heard that.”
“Heard what?”
“I saw you run back into the kitchen when I came inside.”
“Oh,” I said.
“I’m sorry they’re such jerks,” Trevor said.
I didn’t know what to say, so I picked up my cereal bowl from before and took a bite of the Froot Loops. They’d turned totally soggy. Gross. But then I dipped my spoon back into the milk, to wash down the soggy cereal. By itself, the milk was actually pretty yummy. The cereal sweetened it up, so it wasn’t as sweet as the cereal itself, but almost. I took another sip, and the wheels in my brain started turning.
I smiled at Trevor. “I think I know what cupcakes I’m gonna bake.”
I wouldn’t just make cereal cupcakes. I’d make cereal milk cupcakes. I’d made vanilla cupcakes so many times; I had that recipe memorized already. All I’d have to do was swap out the regular milk for the Froot Loops–flavored milk. Then I could use food coloring to make the cupcakes tie-dye to match the cereal. Last, I could crumble some of the Froot Loops on top of the vanilla icing, for some extra pizazz.
After dinner a few days later, Mom and Dad were cuddled together on the couch, watching some documentary. I wished I could start baking without having to tell them first, but I didn’t want to get in trouble. I stood in the doorway and asked, “Can I use the oven?”