My dad slammed his palm down onto the table. “I’ve heard enough! I’ve made my decision, Alicia. No more cake pops, and that’s the end of the discussion.”
“Fine,” I sobbed. “But if you won’t fight for this place, I will.”
I ran into the kitchen as the tears coursed down my cheeks, and a few seconds later, I heard my dad hang up the CLOSED sign and walk out the front door. I sank down onto a stool and let the floodgates open. I couldn’t believe it. In just a few hours, I’d lost my cake pops and probably the bakery, too. My dad was right. We might not recover from this fiasco, and then what would we do? What if we had to close our doors, and it was all my fault?
When I’d finally cried myself out, I wearily faced the mess I’d made. Measuring cups, bowls, and spoons lay piled up, crusted with dried batter. Slowly, I began moving everything into the sink. But when I lifted up the largest mixing bowl, something rolled off the counter and onto my shoe.
I glanced down. It was a small cooking syringe, and inside it were a few drops of black liquid. I turned it over in my hands. I hadn’t been using the syringe while baking, so why was it out? I inspected the counters more carefully, and then I saw it. A bottle of black food coloring.
A horrible realization began to take hold. I hurried into the dining room, grabbed one of the uneaten cake pops, took it back into the kitchen, and sliced it open. As I did, a stream of black liquid squirted out of the morello cherry at the center. Suddenly, all the pieces fell into place, and I knew what had happened.
Someone had injected black food coloring into all of the cherries before I’d put them in the cake pops. It had to be someone who wanted to ruin the jewelry show, someone who was jealous. Or, someone who wanted to ruin my dad’s business once and for all. Fiery rage swept through me as a certain face appeared in my mind. I knew who had done this, and there was no way I was going to let him get away with it.
I practically ran to school on Monday morning, and charged through the hallways on a seek-and-destroy mission. Soon enough, I found Dane, leaning against his locker casually munching on a muffin and talking with Jake. His face broke into a wide smile when he saw me, and it took everything in me not to shove that muffin right into that inflated head of his.
“Hey,” Dane said brightly. “How did your show go?”
My eyes must have glowed red, because the complacent expression on his face was replaced with something like fear.
“Are you kidding me?” I snarled. “You know exactly how it went.”
He raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
“You sabotaged the whole thing!” I yelled. I was vaguely aware of a few brave onlookers hovering around us, probably enjoying the mini-drama. Jake was backing away from us uncomfortably. “You put the food coloring in the pops,” I continued furiously. “You ruined everything!”
Dane’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ali. Seriously, I —”
“You said you wanted a truce. That we were friends.”
He shrugged helplessly. “I did. We are.” He shook his head in frustration. “I … I don’t even know why you’re freaking out on me right now. This is crazy!”
I hesitated for a split second, studying his crestfallen face. I had to hand it to him. He really looked like he didn’t have a clue. But I was not going to be duped by his innocent act.
“You want to shut down my dad’s business,” I seethed. “Well, it’s working. No one came to the bakery this weekend. Not one person! And you didn’t have the guts to play fair. You had to go behind my back and do something so … so jerky!” I took a step toward him and he backed into his locker, holding up his hands like he was ready to block punches. Of course, I wasn’t about to punch him. But I did grab his muffin and smash it on the ground, not that it made me feel much better. And, at the same time, my book bag slipped out of my hand and crashed onto the floor along with the muffin, dumping books and papers everywhere.
“Aagh!” I cried. “Now look what you made me do!” I bent down, hurriedly shoving my now crumb-covered books back into my bag. The adrenaline that had been fueling my tirade was nearly out, and the threat of tears was closing in.
“Here,” Dane said, bending down, “let me help you clean it up.”
I pushed away his hands. “No! I don’t need your help.” My eyes were burning from holding back tears. “Just … leave me alone!”
I grabbed the last of my papers and pushed past the crowd of watching kids, making it to the bathroom just in time for the waterworks to erupt.
I locked myself into a stall and collapsed on the toilet seat, letting all the disappointment of the last few days crash over me. When I heard the bathroom door creak open, I sniffled back a sob, hoping whoever it was would be in and out quickly. No such luck. Two seconds later there was a sharp rap on the stall door.
“I just caught wind of someone having a breakdown in front of half the school,” a familiar voice said. “Long dark hair, hazel eyes, has a quirky baking fetish. You haven’t seen her around, have you?”
“Go away, Gwen.” I tried to say it firmly, but it sounded like a pathetic kitten mewling. “You don’t want to be around me right now. I have an acute case of loser-itis coming on. It might be contagious.”
Gwen laughed. “I’ll take my chances. You have a test in world science tomorrow, remember? You know you won’t be able to live with yourself if you don’t show your face in class. What if you miss something that shows up on the test? The bell’s about to ring. Come on, open up.”
I glared at the stall door. Gwen was tapping into my weakness and she knew it. Even though I’d already been over my handmade flash cards for the world science test, if I missed some key factoid by skipping class I’d be crushed. I sighed, dragged myself off the toilet seat, and unlocked the door.
Gwen grimaced. “Cripes, you’re an ugly crier.”
I giggled as she yanked me out of the stall and started dabbing my face with paper towels.
“I can’t believe he wouldn’t even admit what he did,” I said. “And now I have to sit next to him in world science!”
“Don’t talk to him. Don’t look at him,” Gwen said. “Just get through class and get out of there. We’ll talk more at lunch, okay?”
I nodded and hugged her. “Thanks,” I said. “I can’t believe you’re not more upset. It was your show he ruined.”
Gwen patted my hair into place. “There’ll be other shows. And I plan on having them at Say It With Flour. So it better not go anywhere, right?”
I smiled. “Right.”
The bell rang, and Gwen walked me to class, promising to take out Dane if he came within ten feet of me for the rest of the day. But he didn’t. In fact, when I got to world science, I found him sitting in the last row, a dozen seats away from me. I guessed he’d asked Mr. Jenkins to change his seat, and I breathed a sigh of relief. At least I didn’t have to deal with the awkwardness of sitting next to him. Hopefully the rest of the day might go more smoothly.
I was wrong.
When I got to the quad for lunch, kids walking by me mumbled under their breaths and gave me sideways glances of sympathy, disbelief, or even disgust.
“I guess the whole school knows about what happened on Saturday,” I said as I sat down with Gwen and Tansy.
“Who cares?” Gwen said. Then she snickered. “I don’t even care that I didn’t sell more jewelry. Seeing black goo oozing from Lissie and Jane’s mouths was completely worth it.”
“Shh,” I hissed, elbowing Gwen as Sarah walked over, her lips pursed unpleasantly.
“Sarah,” I started, hoping that if I took the initiative she’d be more understanding. “I’m sorry about what happened on Saturday.”
She sighed. “Me, too. My girls are so upset.” She nodded toward where Lissie and Jane sat with their heads bent low over their table. “That black stuff still hasn’t come off their teeth all the way. They’re so embarrassed. They’re not talking at all until it’s gone.
”
“That’s such a shame,” Gwen said.
“I know,” Sarah said. If she’d heard Gwen’s sarcastic undertone, she didn’t show it. “Well, Ali, I just wanted to let you know that I’m willing to forget the whole incident. As my father likes to say, everyone deserves a second chance. So you’re still invited to be a contestant in the bake-off, no hard feelings.”
“Thanks,” I said, trying to make my voice convey a gratefulness I didn’t feel. “I’m looking forward to it.”
Sarah smiled sweetly. “Great!” she said, and bounced away.
“At least she’s not mad,” Tansy said.
“Maybe not,” I said, “but I get the feeling that this bake-off is my last chance to prove myself to Sarah. To everyone.” I picked up my school bag and started rummaging through it.
“What are you doing?” Gwen asked.
“I have to win the bake-off,” I said. “Maybe I can memorize some of my mom’s recipes beforehand. With any luck, Sarah will pick ingredients that I can use to make one of her recipes. Sarah would never know.”
“But, Ali,” Tansy said quietly, “that’s kind of cheating.”
“Not really,” I said, my stomach knotting at the word. “I’d just be … hedging my bets. Besides, I don’t care how I do it, I have to win.”
“You do care,” Tansy said. “And you can win the fair way. I know you can. You just have to keep trying and everything will be okay.”
“No it won’t!” I cried. “Nothing I’ve tried to make without a recipe has been edible. So if I want to use one of my mom’s recipes, then that’s what I’m going to do.” I reached into my bag for the recipe book, but it wasn’t in its usual place. “And I’m tired of you getting all psycho cheerleader on me every time I mess up. It does not make me feel better, and it will not make everything okay!”
Tansy blinked at me, stunned. “I … I didn’t know you felt that way,” she said, her lip quivering. “I didn’t mean to —”
“Just forget it.” I sighed. Her hurt expression was making the knot in my stomach even bigger, and I couldn’t meet her eyes anymore. They were starting to fill with tears.
She stood up quickly. “I just remembered that I have a library book I have to return.” Her voice broke. “I’ll see you guys later.”
“Whoa, Ali,” Gwen said quietly. “A little harsh, don’t you think?”
I felt a stab of guilt. I thought about hurrying after Tansy to apologize, but I was too busy digging into my bag, and still coming up empty-handed. Now my guilt was shifting into panic.
“I know my mom’s book was in here. Where is it?”
Then, with a sudden sinking feeling, I knew. I closed my eyes and gripped the edge of my seat. “Oh no. It must have fallen out when I dropped my bag in the hallway this morning. I have to find it.” I stood up and started toward the lockers.
“Wait!” Gwen called. “I’ll come with you.”
“No, it’s okay,” I said, taking off at a jog. “I’ll catch up with you in a few minutes.”
But a few minutes turned into twenty. I scoured the hallway, looking all around Dane’s locker, mine, the bathroom. Finally, when I only had a few minutes before the lunch bell rang, I went to the office to check the lost and found. It wasn’t there, either. The book had disappeared.
The bell rang, and I was still standing helplessly outside the office, not knowing where else to look and feeling tears threatening all over again. Then I felt a hand on my shoulder, and turned to see Harris, worry in his eyes.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “You look pretty upset.”
“Just a killer day, that’s all,” I said.
“Yeah, Gwen told me what happened at the jewelry show. What a bummer. I’m really sorry.”
“Me, too,” I said. “But I’ll figure things out. I think.”
“I know you will, Ali. You’re not the kind of girl who gives up easily.” He smiled. “So … there’s this thing I’ve been wanting to talk to you about….”
I closed my eyes, the pit in my stomach opening up into a black hole. Oh no. It was happening again. Harris was going to ask me out, and if he did that right now, when everything was falling apart, I would so not be able to deal. Not now. Please not now.
I cracked one eye open a slit, and saw him checking his watch. “You know what? We’ll have to talk later. If I’m late to Mrs. Waters’s class again, she’ll tell Coach Tom, and he’ll bench me. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Absolutely,” I lied, and gave him a weak smile as he waved and walked away.
But the second he was out of sight, I slumped against the wall, knowing nothing would be okay until I found my mom’s book. And right now, the chances of that happening were looking pretty grim.
That afternoon I walked by the bakery and kept right on going. I couldn’t stand seeing my dad’s worry-lined face and a dining room full of empty tables. Instead, I walked home. It was a beautiful sunshiny day, but I didn’t notice the blooming geraniums or pungent eucalyptus trees. All I could see was my mom’s missing book in my mind.
When Gwen walked into my house two hours later with Abuelita Rosa and Roberto, the three of them found me drowning my sorrows in a fudge brownie. My third.
“Whoa.” Gwen braced herself against the kitchen door frame, clutching her chest. “Don’t tell me you’re actually eating a brownie from a box?”
“Yup,” I said, taking another big bite. “I’ve hit rock bottom.”
“I’ll say,” she said, plunking down in the chair across from me. “I never thought you’d stoop so low. You’re way better than a store-bought mix.”
“No.” I shook my head vehemently. “This is my future. A life of prepackaged ingredients.”
Roberto scrambled onto my lap and grabbed the remains of my brownie.
“Yum,” he said as he gobbled. “Prepackaged brownies are pretty good!”
Abuelita Rosa kissed my cheek and slid a glass of milk toward me. “¿Qué pasó, niñita? You didn’t come to the bakery after school today. We got worried.”
“Yeah, and Harris kicked my butt at Dragonlore,” Gwen said. “I really could’ve used some moral support.”
I stared at the table. “I can’t find Mom’s recipe book,” I said in a trembling voice. “I looked everywhere. I even thought I might have left it at home. But I checked my room. It’s gone.” I looked hesitantly at Abuelita, afraid she was going to be furious. After all, my mom was her only daughter, and the book was probably as precious to her as it was to me. But she only smiled at me patiently.
“It’s probably somewhere you never thought to look,” she said calmly. “So stop trying to find it and let it find you.”
I shook my head. “I don’t understand why all these awful things keep happening. The jewelry show was a disaster. I was a complete beast to Tansy today, and she’s never been anything but sweet to me! I tried to catch her alone in phys ed to apologize, but she totally avoided me. And now Mom’s book is gone!” I tried not to burst into tears.
Gwen gave me a level look. “Your mom’s book will turn up. You can make up with Tansy. And you can still turn things around at the bakery,” she said. “You have another chance to prove yourself at the bake-off. If you win, you’ll be guaranteed one big piece of business.”
“That’s the other thing.” I groaned. “The bake-off is in two weeks and I’m not ready.” I put my head in my hands. “Maybe I should drop out.”
Gwen’s eyes hit saucer status. “Are you kidding? And let Dane win after what he did to you? No way!”
“Well, I’ll never win anyway.” I dabbed at some brownie crumbs with my finger and popped them into my mouth. “I try so hard, and nothing ever works the way it’s supposed to.”
“You’ve been trying too hard,” Abuelita said. “Following the rules doesn’t guarantee perfection. You have to leave room for some serendipity.” She squeezed my hand. “Stop trying to make things perfect. Instead, try to make them perfectly you.”
“Perfectly
me,” I whispered. Fear formed a cold lump in my stomach. I looked from Abuelita to Gwen, my eyes filling. “What if … what if I don’t know what that is?”
“Great,” Gwen said. “Now you’re having an identity crisis?” She shook my shoulders. “This is no time for soul searching. Stare in the mirror for fifteen minutes, and get a grip!”
I gawked at Gwen, and then we all broke into giggles.
“I’m just saying, enough with the self-pity,” Gwen said when we’d quieted down. “It’s time to get your caboose into the kitchen to do some work.”
I dried my eyes and took a deep breath, looking around the table at these people who loved me. These people who believed in me way more than they should have. “Okay,” I said.
“¡Fantástico!” Abuelita clapped her hands. “And no matter what happens, you’ll have the satisfaction of knowing you tried.” Then she hugged me and took Roberto into the family room to read some books before dinner.
Tried. I thought about that word. It was a word people meant as encouraging, but really they used it when they were prepping you for failure. Well, trying wasn’t good enough for me. “I have to beat Dane at the bake-off,” I said to Gwen. “There’s no other option.”
“That’s it,” Gwen said. “Focus on sweet revenge.”
I stood and picked up the remaining brownies. “Ugh. I can’t believe I ate these.” I was about to tip them into the trash when Gwen grabbed them.
“Hang on a sec!” she said. “I said you shouldn’t stoop to prepackaged treats. I never said I shouldn’t.” She bit into one and grinned.
Later that evening, I tried to focus on homework, but my mind kept racing in circles around the bake-off, Harris, my mom’s missing book, my fight with Tansy, and Dane. And then I zeroed in on Dane. Dane, Dane, Dane. Maybe this whole thing wasn’t my fault as much as it was his. His fault that the jewelry show got ruined; his fault that I lost my mom’s book; his fault that my dad’s business was losing money.
But he wasn’t going to stop me from winning the bake-off. And when I won, Dane would realize that all his sly tricks and smooth-talking amounted to nothing. I tried to tell myself that it would feel terrific to topple Dane right off his Perk Up pedestal. But maybe Gwen had gotten revenge all wrong. Because, if the knot twisting inside me was any indication, revenge wasn’t sweet at all. It was bitter, sour, and hard to stomach.
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