by Coco Simon
We waved at Dr. Palmer and then drove home, and I told her all about Puff and how sweet and warm he was.
“It’s great to have a pet to tell your troubles to,” she reminisced. “Some parenting experts strongly recommend it.”
“I know, I know, but we’re not pet people,” I said. There was a pause when I expected her to agree with me, but she didn’t. “Are we?”
My mom shrugged. “When you guys were little, it seemed unnecessary to have a pet. Maybe we could entertain the thought now that you’re old enough to help out.”
“Really? Can we ask Dad?”
“I’ll talk to him about it and see what he says.”
“Huh. That would be really cool.” And I stared out the window the rest of the way home, daydreaming about what it would be like to have my own cat.
Sunday was sunny and cool, with weather predictions for a gorgeous early summer day. The Cupcakers showed up right on time, and the first thing I said to them was, “Guess what? We might get a cat!”
“Oooh, get Puff!” exclaimed Katie.
I had to “manage my expectations” (as my mom was fond of saying), so I said, “Well, he might be gone by the time we decide what we’re going to do. I mean, it might be next year by the time we get one.”
Katie nodded sadly. “Oh well. I guess there’re other fish in the sea. Or kittens at the shelter.”
We created an assembly line in the kitchen, with me putting on the base coat of blue frosting (the ocean), Emma rolling the side of it in brown sugar (the sand), Mia placing the strip of Airheads taffy on top (the beach towel), and Katie carefully making any final adjustments. We’d put the umbrellas on when we got to the Drehers’ house, since they wouldn’t fit in out carrier otherwise.
“Oh, girls, these look adorable!” my mom exclaimed when she came into the kitchen.
“And I bet they taste great too!” said my dad, following her in.
We all laughed because my dad is a cupcake hound, and we never have any junk food in the house, so he’s always begging cupcakes off of us.
“Here you go, Mr. Becker,” said Katie, laughing as my dad pretended he was doing us a favor by sampling it. My mom rolled her eyes.
“Alexis, your dad and I have some news, and I think it’s okay if your friends hear it.” She was smiling, so it couldn’t be bad, but I still felt nervous at the formality of it. Everyone kind of froze, and my mom gestured at my dad to tell me.
“What?” I asked.
He cleared his throat. “Alexis, you can get a cat.”
“What?” I whooped. All my friends cheered and carried on, hearing the news. “What made you decide?” I asked.
My dad grinned. “The cupcake.”
“No, seriously,” I pressed.
My mom stepped in, “Your father and I think you’ve shown a lot of responsibility lately, and we think it’s time you got some recognition in the family for it.”
“Wow! What about Dylan?” I asked.
“We already discussed it with her, and she is all for it,” said my dad.
“She’s angling for a used car to recognize her responsibility,” said my mom wryly.
My friends and I laughed, and then the Cupcakers began hugging me and jumping up and down.
“When can we go get Puff?” I asked my parents. “I hope he’s still there!”
My dad looked at his watch. “I don’t think we should rush it. How about after the barbecue? You girls can come with us, if you’d like. I’ll call Dr. Palmer and let him know we’ll be coming over.”
We cheered and hurried to finish the cupcakes and then head upstairs to change.
“Mia, guess what? I found something when I went back to the shelter thrift shop! Wait till you see!”
I ducked into the bathroom to put on the romper, and when I came back Mia freaked out.
“OMG! It looks like a designer outfit you paid hundreds of dollars for! Oh, Alexis, it’s great! What about if you try it with the new belt?”
I hadn’t thought of that, and when I put it on, Mia stood back and put her palms together like she was praying, and then she delivered the verdict: “Divine.”
We all laughed because our friend Mona at the bridal salon always says that, and now we use it as our highest compliment.
Dylan came in to see what the fuss was about, and she laughed and shook her head when she saw what I was wearing. “You have to have those legs to pull off a romper,” she said.
“Thanks, I think,” I said with a smile.
The others changed, and then it was time to go. “See you back here at three thirty!” called my dad.
The party was a huge success. It turned out to be pretty casual, so I was glad I hadn’t gotten superdressed up. After my trip to the beach, it wasn’t a mistake I was eager to repeat. The Drehers had a pool, so it was only a matter of time before people went in. Mrs. Dreher had hired two lifeguards for the party, and lunch wasn’t even over before George Martinez came out in his suit and jumped in.
“Are you coming in, Alexis?” asked Matt. It felt so formal to hear him call me that, I kind of winced.
“Yeah, sure,” I said.
“Atta girl!” He laughed. “I knew I could count on you!”
I changed into my new suit, which was so much more comfortable than the old one because it actually fit.
The pool was pretty crowded and big, so it took a few seconds to find Matt and George. They were in the shallow end, tossing a Waboba ball around and didn’t see me. They looked so cute splashing around. I whipped out my cell phone to snap a photo of them. They both suddenly looked my way, and I was nervous for a second, thinking they were going to be annoyed I was taking a photo. But instead they starting goofing around, really hamming it up for the camera. I could barely take the photo, I was laughing so hard. Suddenly, Matt said, “Hey, wait a minute!” He climbed out of the pool, soaking wet but as cute as ever. He gently took my phone out of my hands and put his arm around me.
“Let’s take a selfie!” he said. “Say ‘cheese’!” We both grinned, and he snapped the picture. He stared at it for a moment before handing the camera back to me. “Check it out. You’re almost as tall as me now,” he said. “We look good together.” It took me a moment to find my voice, I was that shocked.
“Yeah, we do,” I croaked.
Matt jumped back into the pool and yelled, “I want copies of all those photos!”
I walked away in a daze, without even going in for a swim. I had a photo of Matt with his arm around me. He liked me. He liked that I was tall, and freckled. And now I had proof.
I went to find the Cupcakers and to say good-bye to the Drehers. Mrs. Dreher handed me an envelope, and I thanked her. The cupcakes had been a huge hit, and three moms had asked for our contact info. (I don’t put out business cards at private events, though I always wish I could. But I just think it’s a little too pushy, you know? And sometimes our clients might like to pretend they made the cupcakes themselves.)
As we were leaving, Olivia Allen was just arriving.
“A little late, aren’t you?” said Emma.
Olivia looked like she’d been crying. Her dress was way too dressy for daytime. “Are Bella and the other girls here?” she asked, craning her neck to see over our shoulders.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. They were here earlier.”
She looked at me like she was just noticing me. “Cute romper,” she said. “Is it Chanel?”
I had to laugh at the idea of me affording an outfit from a designer like Chanel, let alone wearing it to a barbecue. “No,” I said. “But thanks for the compliment.” Our eyes met for a moment, and Olivia smiled.
“You’re welcome. Bye.” And she walked into the party alone.
The Cupcakers and I raised our eyebrows meaningfully at one another, and then we turned to go.
“Hey!” called a voice from behind us as we reached the gate. It was Matt.
We turned, and he jogged up, kind of out of breath. “I was looking for you guys
everywhere.”
“Well, here we are,” said Emma, stating the obvious.
“Uh . . .” We all waited, and Matt grinned like an idiot. “Are you getting a ride home with Mom and Dad right now?”
“No, we’re going to get Alexis’s kitten, remember?” Emma said patiently.
“Oh,” said Matt. He looked at me with a funny look on his face.
Before I knew what I was doing, I said, “Wanna come?”
“Sure! Thanks, Lexi!” He grinned like a maniac. “Let me tell George!” And he ran off without thinking twice about it.
“OMG, do you guys mind?” I said, suddenly ashamed of myself.
But my friends were all smiling at me.
“It’s fine,” said Emma. “It’s not like he’s a stranger. I mean, he calls you ‘Lexi,’ after all.” She grinned, and I grinned back.
Puff was waiting for me when we got to the shelter that afternoon. Turns out my mom had called Dr. Palmer and caught him just as he was leaving yesterday, asking him to put a hold on Puff for twenty-four hours. Puff seemed to recognize me, I swear, and when I sat down with my legs crossed, he climbed right into the crook of my leg again and snuggled in and fell asleep, just like yesterday.
Everyone played with the other kittens while my dad did the paperwork with Dr. Palmer, and he got a cardboard carrier to bring Puff home in.
Driving home, Puff made peeping noises in the carrier that were so cute, I had to take him out. Then he got loose and climbed around the car, still mewing, until Matt caught him and snuggled him into his arms.
“He likes you,” I said to Matt with a smile.
Matt looked down at Puff, and smiled too. “You think?”
I nodded. “For sure.”
That night, I lay in my bed with Puff snuggled up against my long legs, purring in his sleep, and I could not have been happier. It had been a crazy couple of weeks with my body kind of going haywire. And my brain too, for that matter. I’d been scatterbrained, disorganized, messy, and cranky. My legs had ached as they’d grown, and I’d developed freckles on top of freckles. Besides, I’d failed a test, shopped at a thrift store, and been teen angsty with my mom. All out of character for me.
But I’d also found I had some of the best friends and the greatest family any girl could ever hope for. And I had an adorable new kitten that liked me, and maybe a boy who felt the same way. Who knows what was going to happen next? But everything was perfect right now. . . . Anything else would just be the icing on the cake—or the cupcake!
Want another sweet cupcake?
Here’s a sneak peek of the next book in the
Cupcake Diaries
series:
Katie
starting from scratch
Really, Mom?
So, Emily, what’s new with you? How are things going at school?” my mom asked the girl sitting next to me.
“It’s okay,” Emily replied. “Everyone’s been really nice, and I like all my teachers so far. But it’s only been two days, so it’s hard to tell.”
Emily’s dad, who was sitting next to my mom, smiled at her. “I think you’re doing great.”
I should probably remind you that Emily’s dad, Jeff, is also a math teacher at the middle school that I go to. There I call him “Mr. Green,” but I guess Emily just calls him “Dad.” And Jeff, or Mr. Green or whatever you want to call him, happens to be dating my mom. It gets a little awkward sometimes to have your mom dating a teacher at school, but I’m dealing with it.
“Are you having trouble with the lock on your locker?” Mom asked Emily. Mom nodded toward me. “Katie had a hard time getting the hang of it. Once she even called me at work because she couldn’t get it open.”
I looked at my mom in disbelief. “Really, Mom? Did you have to tell everybody that?”
Maybe normally I would have just laughed at a comment about that (especially since Mom was right), but lately Mom was doing this thing with Emily, like sort of selling me out to get closer to her, that was starting to get annoying. Even more stuff happened during our dinner that night, at the Maple Grove Diner.
Mom changed the subject of my un-awesome lock-opening ability—but the conversation didn’t get any better.
“Well, I’m glad everything is going smoothly for you,” Mom said. “I remember when Katie and her best friend, Callie, just stopped being friends for no reason. Can you believe that? But, luckily, she made some new friends right away.”
I. Could. Not. Believe. It. Mom was telling all my deep, dark secrets in front of Jeff and Emily.
“First of all, Callie stopped being my friend,” I said. “And anyway, why is this important? I have awesome friends now.”
“That’s exactly what I said,” Mom protested.
“Well, I’m still friends with my elementary school friends,” Emily said. “We even have some classes together.”
That’s when the waitress came to our table.
Finally, I thought. We can stop talking about all my horrible school experiences and eat.
Mom and Jeff both ordered turkey burgers and salads. Emily ordered a turkey club sandwich.
“Would you like fries with that?” the waitress asked.
“I’ll have a salad, please,” Emily said. “And a glass of water.”
Then the waitress turned to me. “What would you like?”
Now, I like to think that ordering food at a restaurant is one of my skills. For example, if we go to Mariani’s Italian Restaurant, I always order the eggplant parm because it’s awesome there, but if we go to Torino’s, it’s too greasy so I get the ravioli, which they make by hand. And I always end up with the best food on the table. It’s kind of an art. And whenever I recommend something, people always love it. Maybe I’ll be a food critic when I get older. Imagine getting to eat in all the best restaurants and get paid for telling people what you did and didn’t like. That would be pretty amazing.
Anyway, I know exactly what to order at the Maple Grove Diner. “I’ll have the Reuben with cheese fries and a root beer, please,” I said.
Now, for years Mom and I have eaten out a lot, just the two of us, so she is used to my mad food-ordering skills. But today she raised her eyebrows at me.
“Root beer?” she asked. “You know how I feel about soda. It’s so bad for your teeth, not to mention your overall health.”
My mom is a dentist, so of course I know how she feels about soda. Which made me think she was just saying that to impress Jeff or something.
“Mom, you know my food-to-beverage formula,” I said.
Emily looked interested. “What is that?”
“Well, you know how some things just go together?” I asked. “Like, an ice-cold cola is awesome with Chinese food. But on the other hand, any kind of soda is gross with PB&J. The best drink for that is milk.”
“What about . . . a tuna sandwich?” Emily asked.
“Iced tea,” I said. “That would go great with a turkey club, too, by the way. Or you can get lemonade.”
“Dad, can I get an iced tea?” Emily asked Jeff.
“Well, I’d rather you didn’t have caffeine this late,” Jeff said. “But I think Katie’s on to something. Maybe you can test her theory next time.”
“I think it was very mature of you to order water, Emily,” Mom said, and I tried my best not to groan out loud. We had hung out with Jeff and Emily kind of a lot over the past few weeks, and Mom was always saying stuff like that. Like she was comparing us, or something.
I was kind of mad at Mom for that comment, so I stayed quiet until the food came. My Reuben smelled amazing—it had corned beef, mustard, melted Swiss cheese, and sauerkraut. I know that might sound gross, but when you eat it all together, it’s so good. And the cheese fries were covered with that gooey orange cheese. I ate one of those first.
“Whoops, Katie! You got some cheese on your shirt,” Jeff said.
I looked down and saw a glob of orange cheese on my purple shirt. I grabbed a napkin and started scrubbing my s
hirt, but the cheese just left an orange streak. Mom rolled her eyes and gave a big sigh across the table.
Next to me, Emily was neatly cutting her salad into tiny pieces with a knife and fork. I realized that I had never seen her spill any food or anything like that. In fact, Emily is one of those all-over neat people. Her brown hair is always very neat and shiny, whereas my brown hair usually gets tangles in it by lunchtime every day. She wears white sneakers with no black smudges on them or anything, and I wear sneakers that I’ve doodled all over with colored pens. There’s usually some kind of mud-like substance on them too.
Mom looked at Jeff. “Felix and Oscar,” she said, and they both laughed.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.
“It’s from an old TV show about two roommates,” Mom said. “One was really neat, and the other one was . . . messy.”
“Let me guess. I’m the messy one?” I said, and Emily giggled next to me.
“It was a really funny show,” Jeff said. I think he was trying not to make me feel bad.
“Very funny,” Mom agreed, smiling at Jeff, and then they started holding hands at the table.
“Gross!” I mumbled, and then I bit into my Reuben. Mustard squirted out and landed on my jeans. Oh, well.
“Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Jeff said, looking at my mom. “I’m not sure if I can go see that show with you next Saturday. Emily’s mom has an unexpected business trip, so Em will be with me all weekend.”
Emily’s parents are divorced, just like mine. Except I never see my dad, and Emily sees Jeff every other weekend and some days during the week, too. It’s hard to keep track of their schedules sometimes.
“Oh, that’s a shame,” Mom said. Then her eyes lit up. “Hey, it’s a matinee, and we won’t be back late. Why doesn’t Emily hang out with Katie and her friends at their Cupcake Club meeting?”