by Mere Joyce
The kitchen is trashed. The small table and its two chairs have been knocked over. Knives, forks and spoons are strewn across the floor. The fridge is open. All of our food has been taken out. Blueberry filling is smeared across the counter. Cold cuts and lettuce have been dumped onto the table. One of the walls is smeared with orange goo. Someone obviously threw all the peach pie rolls at it.
And in the middle of the destruction is Austin. He hasn’t noticed me yet.
He kicks at the open fridge door. The impact of his foot makes the whole appliance shake.
“Too busy to pick me up?” he mutters as the door hits the wall and swings back so he can kick it again. “Well, maybe you’ll come when they tell you I’ve been kicked out!” He picks up a tray full of pie rolls. They’re filled with the apples he helped me prepare last night. The memory of him slicing fruit as he talked about his dad makes my stomach hurt.
Austin lifts his arm and turns like he’s preparing to throw the tray across the room. He stops when he sees me standing in the doorway. His hair is disheveled, and his eyes are red. He looks like he’s been crying.
“What are you doing?” I ask in a wobbly voice. So much for rule number one. Looks like I’m going to cry too.
Austin seems embarrassed to have been caught. For a second he seems sorry as well. He blinks a few times before he rubs his eyes on his shirt sleeve. Then he sneers at me.
“I told you going against me was a bad idea, Jelly Roll,” he says. He hurls the tray against the wall to my left. Apple filling explodes across the white cinder block. Gooey apple slices ooze down the wall. I cringe at the thought of all that wasted food. I jump when Austin pushes past me.
When he’s out of sight, I slump down against the nearest wall and stare at the kitchen. Everything is ruined. There is no way we can do the food truck now.
After all of our hard work, Austin has still managed to win.
“That is what I get for trying to stand up to him,” I whisper, even though I’m the only one in the room. “Katrina was right. People like him always get their way.”
I want to go home. I want to call my dad. I want him to drive me and The Hungry Pup out of the parking lot and forget all about this stupid retreat.
I think again of Austin slicing apples. He wanted to make his dad proud. I want to make mine proud too. Dad wouldn’t want me to quit. And I don’t want Austin to win.
I sit up and wipe my eyes. Then I pull out my phone and check the time. Two and a half hours left until we have to open our stalls. If I work fast, I might be able to pull something else together. If I don’t at least try, Austin will always know he beat me down when it mattered most.
“He’s not going to get his way,” I say as I pull myself up. “Not this time.” I turn toward the door, ready to storm out of the room.
I nearly run into Ollie. He takes one step into the kitchen and then stops, a horrified expression on his face.
“What happened?” he asks.
I grab his arm and twist him around so he is looking at me. I don’t want his focus to be on the disaster inside the kitchen. “An animal got in,” I lie.
Ollie’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “An animal did all this?”
“No,” I admit. I stare into Ollie’s eyes, and it doesn’t take long for him to understand who really tore the kitchen apart.
“I can’t believe that little—”
“Raccoon got in. I know,” I say, cutting him off.
He looks at me, confused. “Why would you lie and say it was a raccoon? We need to tell the counselors what Austin did.”
“No,” I say again. I look around at the messy kitchen before I move to close the door. I don’t want to risk anyone overhearing us. “If they know who the culprit really is, they might pull the plug on our project. And that might cause enough commotion to ruin the whole farmers’ market.” I don’t want the counselors involved. Austin is expecting to get in trouble. And I know it would only make things between him and his dad worse. Despite all he’s done, a part of me still feels sorry for him.
“So?” Ollie is furious. If Austin were here right now, Ollie would probably start throwing punches. “All of our stuff has been destroyed. We can’t serve anything anyway.”
“Austin wants us to fail,” I tell him. “He wants us to give up. So that is exactly what we are not going to do.”
“But how are we going to run the food truck without any food?” Ollie asks.
I take a deep breath, trying not to get overwhelmed by the amount of work we have in front of us. “We don’t have the money to buy all the ingredients again. But if we focus on one recipe…”
I think about the other vendors in the market. When I remember the stall full of local jams and jellies, my heart starts to race. I have the perfect idea.
Ollie watches as I hurry to grab my backpack.
“What are we going to do?” he asks.
I head toward the hallway, grinning as I open the kitchen door. “Leave that to me. You stay here. I’m going to need your help. I’ll be back soon.”
Chapter Fifteen
Katrina said there was a grocery store down the road. I leave the market building and jog all the way to it. The air is cold, but the morning is bright. It gives me hope. My head is as clear as the sky. I know exactly what I need to do.
I use the remaining money from our budget to buy the supplies I need. Two kinds of sugar. Eggs and salt. Flour and baking powder. Vanilla, cocoa and butter. The store has everything I need. I grab a couple rolls of parchment paper on my way to the cash register.
Once I’ve stocked up, I head back to the farmers’ market. I stop by the food truck to gather cooking utensils. Then I return to the main building. I head for the stall I’d noticed earlier. I pick a few jars of the strawberry preserves lined up on the table. I give the woman the last of my money and run back to the kitchen.
Ollie is washing up the trays the pie rolls were on. He fires questions at me, curious about what I have in mind.
“What you’re doing right now is great,” I tell him. “I’ll need a few of those pans soon.” I set out mixing bowls and lay parchment paper on a baking tray. “You’ll see what I’m planning soon enough.”
I mix sugar and butter. I crack in eggs and add vanilla. I whisk in flour, baking powder and salt. I scoop in cocoa to give the batter some chocolate flavor. While the oven is preheating, I pour the batter into the pans Ollie has cleaned. Then I start on the icing.
By the time the other kids arrive, the first batch of cake is cooling on a rack. I spread whipped icing over its length. Then I open the first jar of jelly.
“What is she doing?” Audrey asks as she steps into the kitchen. “Where is all our stuff?” Katrina and Sarah are with her. Meera is off setting up her snack station.
“We have had a change of plans,” Ollie tells them. “But everything is under control.” He explains what happened this morning as I finish up. I’m almost ready to unveil my new recipe.
I smooth the strawberry preserve over the icing. Then I roll up the cake. I sprinkle icing sugar and cocoa powder on top. Then I carefully slice into the roll. Each piece is a lovely spiral of chocolate cake, vanilla icing and strawberries. It has turned out perfectly.
I place one slice on a plate before turning and presenting it to my friends.
“I give you Roll Over’s single menu item,” I say. “A classic strawberry jelly roll, made with local strawberry preserves.”
“Please tell me you need someone to do a taste test,” Sarah says with big eyes. “Because I totally volunteer.”
I laugh. “I thought you could all share. We need to make some money today!”
Sarah looks disappointed. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” she says.
I smile. “If you like it, you can buy yourself another slice from the truck,” I tell her.
“That’s true,” she says, perking up again.
I grab enough forks so everyone can try the dessert. As each person takes their first bit
e, I hold my breath. When I see their smiles, a shiver of excitement runs up my spine.
“This is delicious,” Ollie says, scooping a second huge forkful into his mouth.
“I will definitely be ordering another one of these,” Sarah says, mouth full of cake. A bit of jelly dribbles down her chin. She wipes it away with her finger and licks it off.
“It’s only one item, but it totally goes with the name of the truck,” I say. “If we take down the menu sign, no one will ever know we intended to serve other things. Roll Over will be the exclusive home of this exclusive jelly roll.”
“Do we have enough supplies?” Ollie asks.
“We’ve got a ton of ingredients to bake more batches of cake,” I say. “I’ll stay in here and keep baking as we go.”
“I can draw a new sign,” Audrey says. “One just for the jelly roll.”
“And then Audrey and I can be in the truck handing out slices,” says Ollie. “I think this is going to work!” He sounds surprised. He looks it too.
“I know it will,” I tell him. “But we need to get going.”
Katrina nods. “I’ll help you finish cleaning up before I go join my team,” she says.
“I’ll help too,” Sarah adds. She has taken the rest of the slice for herself and has nearly finished it. “My team is selling produce bags made from old T-shirts that people can use for shopping at the market. They won’t care if I’m a little late.”
“Thank you,” I say to them both.
Everyone starts moving at the same time. Ollie goes to prepare the cash drawer, and Audrey leaves to make her last sign. Katrina fills the sink so she can wash the rest of the utensils that Austin tossed on the floor. Sarah and I bring the first batch of rolls out to the food truck.
As we walk across the parking lot, I see Austin leaning against the building’s brick wall. He doesn’t look smug. When our eyes meet, he doesn’t even bother to sneer. He clutches his phone, like he is waiting for a call he knows isn’t really going to come. He looks lonely.
I’m not sure whether I feel sorry for him or glad to see him beaten. I think it is probably a bit of both.
Chapter Sixteen
I get the next batch of cake in the oven half an hour before our food truck opens. And then I don’t stop baking for the rest of the day.
The cold doesn’t stop people from lining up at our truck. Serving cake doesn’t hurt either. The morning starts with a couple of people happy to donate their money to the food bank in exchange for something sweet. But then word catches on, and more and more people start to line up. We go through the first batch. And the second. And the third.
Eventually we run out of supplies and are forced to officially shut down the food truck. I’m exhausted from the nonstop baking. But I’m so happy, I start to cry for the second time today.
“That was amazing,” Audrey says as she draws a SOLD OUT sign. She has jelly smudges on her forehead and a bit of dried icing on the tip of her nose. “I can’t believe how busy we were.”
Ollie nods. “At least five people asked if we will be serving jelly rolls at the market next week,” he says.
“I didn’t even get to buy mine,” Sarah says, pouting. She has been back and forth between her stall and the food truck all day.
I smile as I open the cupboard over my head. I reach into the back and pull out the mini cake roll I stashed there a few hours ago when I didn’t have enough batter to make a full-sized one.
“I hoped it would be a success,” I say, taking a small container of icing and preserves from the fridge. “And I planned accordingly so we could celebrate. I have enough to make us all a slice. Katrina and Meera too.”
Sarah bounces on her toes. She hurries to find me a spreader. Together we make the last jelly roll. Ollie and Audrey eat their slices in the truck while Sarah goes off in search of Katrina and Meera. I grab mine and take it outside. After hours in the kitchen, I’m desperate for some fresh air.
I walk past the other outdoor vendors still selling their wares. There is a park nearby, and I head toward the nearest empty picnic table. I don’t even stop when I see Austin at the next table over.
He is hunched over his phone. When I’m close I can hear him mumbling. He pulls his arm back like he is going to hurl the phone the same way he hurled the pie rolls earlier. When he looks up and sees me, he stops. For a second he looks embarrassed again. Then he just looks tired.
“You didn’t tell the counselors what I did,” he says.
I shrug my shoulders. “I didn’t want to ruin the market.”
Austin sighs. He stares down at his phone again. “Yeah well, now I have to take a three-hour bus ride home,” he says. “And I can’t even get the schedule to load on this stupid phone.”
“Sorry your dad didn’t come,” I say.
Austin rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”
Why am I even bothering to be nice? I can’t stand Austin. And I certainly don’t forgive him for all the horrible stuff he has done. But I don’t want to be like him. I guess that is why.
“Here,” I say. I hold out my slice of cake. He looks at it like it’s poisoned. I’m tempted to take it back and eat it myself. But I want him to try it. I want him to know it’s good.
I place the cake on the table beside him. Then I start to turn away.
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you know your way around a kitchen,” Austin says behind me. I look back to see him picking up the plate. He takes a bite, and then he nods. “This is pretty good.”
“I figured you’d like it.” I keep talking before I have time to chicken out of saying the rest. “You spend so much of your time obsessing over jelly rolls, I figured they must be your favorite.”
Austin raises his eyebrows, stunned at my words. I guess I’m breaking all the rules today. Austin’s seen me cry. And now he’s heard my comeback too.
He gets off the park bench. I hold my breath as he walks toward me. As brave as I want to be, it is hard not to feel nervous when he gets close. He stops in front of me. His eyes stare into mine, but they are not so cold under the sunny sky. For a second Austin sneers at me. But then his face falls, and he only looks sorry.
“Do you need any help cleaning up?” he asks in a quiet voice.
The question surprises me. We’ve already cleaned up after Austin. I almost tell him we don’t want his help. But the food truck is a mess. Austin didn’t take part in making anything. It seems fitting he should at least help with the dishes.
“Yes, we do,” I say with a nod. I place one hand on my hip and point in the direction of the truck. “You can finish your dessert and then wash all the baking pans. You’ll have to scrub hard. I don’t want any cake crumbs left over.”
I’m not used to sounding bossy. It’s kind of fun.
Austin looks at the food truck. Then he shrugs his shoulders and steps around me. Before he passes, I catch the hint of a smile on his lips. “Whatever you say, J.R.” He walks off, eating another bite of cake as he goes.
I let out a long breath as I watch him walk away. Never has Austin called me anything other than Jelly Roll when no one else was around. School is back in tomorrow, and I’m going to have my work cut out for me. Austin and his friends will still be mean. But their teasing won’t break me. I think Austin knows that now.
Because, as it turns out, being a Jelly Roll is actually pretty sweet.
Mere Joyce is the author of several novels for young people, including Shadow from the Orca Currents line. She lives in Kitchener, Ontario, with her family.
For more information on all the books
in the Orca Currents line, please visit
orcabook.com.
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