The Boy Problem

by Kami Kinard

  I still didn’t know how we were going to rescue Cupcakes 4 Catastrophes, but at least I can predict that our probability project will be a delicious success!

  It was actually a relief to go to Dad’s yesterday since Mom was so down about the Cupcakes 4 Catastrophes catastrophe. We had plenty of cupcakes left over, so I took some along for Dad; my stepmom, Susie; and Toby. It was pretty cute watching my little brother devour the pile of icing on top! He was a sweet catastrophe, that’s for sure.

  Anyway, Dad asked me a lot of questions about C4C, and I told him all about the failed fund-raiser.

  “How is your uncle?” asked Dad. “I always liked Mike.”

  It seemed pointless to tell Dad the truth about how Uncle Mike has felt about him ever since he divorced Mom, so I just said, “Fine.”

  Then Dad pulled out his wallet and gave me thirty dollars toward C4C!!!! Now we’re up to three hundred and fourteen dollars. Over halfway to our goal!

  I was still pretty depressed on the drive back on Sunday, though. My “two days” before Mom called Uncle Mike were almost gone, and we still hadn’t come up with a way to raise the rest of the six hundred dollars needed for matching funds.

  But then I saw a sign! And when I saw it, I suddenly knew everything was going to be okay! (This wasn’t a sign like the pizza cheese head, the fortune cookie, the cootie catcher, the 8 Ball, or the shoe-box lid.) It looked like this:

  Why hadn’t I thought of this before? Our little town is famous for its huge fall festival! People from all over the state flock to Lakefront Park every October for delicious fried fish, hayrides, live music, and jump castles galore! We could sell a TON of cupcakes there.

  I checked out the website and got all the info! Perfect!

  Breaking the news to Kara and Pri about my fall festival plan did not go like I’d imagined.

  “What do you mean you had to pay fifty dollars to get the booth?” Kara shouted.

  “That’s what it costs,” I said.

  “So you gave them fifty dollars of our hard-earned, already-don’t-have-enough money that we might NEVER GET BACK?”

  I nodded, looking from Kara to Pri. Pri’s usually happy face was solemn. Kara’s was angry.

  “I can’t believe it,” said Kara. “Now we have to sell fifty more cupcakes before we can even get our fifty dollars back.”

  “Maybe not,” said Pri. “We could always raise the price …”

  “Yeah! We should charge two dollars per cupcake at the festival,” I said.

  “Two dollars?” Kara gaped at me.

  “Why not? Overpaying for event food is one of the main facts of life. I mean, water even costs two dollars a bottle at events.”

  “You’re right!” said Pri. “This will be great. The fall festival was packed last year. I bet there were thousands of people there.”

  I felt so grateful for my overenthusiastic friend that I wanted to hug her on the spot.

  “Okay,” said Kara, “I’m in. But I predict we aren’t going to make our goal.”

  * * *

  My prediction: If Kara is right this time, I’m not just going to hate it. I’m gonna loathe it, detest it — I’m plain old not gonna be able to take it!

  I was at my locker this morning when I heard it again: the tap-tap-tap of a foot hitting a ball. It stopped right behind me. I slowly turned around and there was Andres, soccer ball under his arm, grin on his face, dimples in his cheeks, and curls in his hair. He looked so perfect that my heart was tapping much faster than a foot on a ball.

  “Hi, Tabbi,” he said.

  I smiled at him.

  “Sorry you guys had to stop your cupcake business,” he said.

  “Me, too,” I said. But it was kinda hard to feel sorry about anything that caused Andres to talk to me.

  “Those were the best gluten-free cupcakes ever.”

  “Thanks!”

  “Mind if I get your number so I can text you for the recipe sometime?”

  Um. NO! I did not mind exchanging numbers with him one bit! After he walked away I turned back to my locker. I knew what I had to do. I pulled out my phone. While keeping it hidden, I sent a text.

  Me:

  Ten minutes later I heard my phone buzz from my purse, but I had to wait until after class to check it. It was worth the wait.

  Andres:

  Now I could check off one more box from my chart!

  Just got off of the phone with Kara. She had surprising news.

  Kara: I’m back with Chip.

  Me: What?

  Kara: I’m back with Chip.

  Me: What happened?

  Kara: He did something super-sweet.

  Me: As in …

  Kara: He spent all weekend doing yard work to help us raise money for C4C.

  Me: You’re kidding!!!!

  Kara: No. He came to my house with everything he earned in an envelope that was completely covered with duct tape. (I could tell by her voice she was smiling.) It took me forever to open it.

  Me: What? You don’t have scissors anymore?

  Kara: Where’s the fun in that? He’s really sorry, you know. He didn’t see our table.

  Me: Yeah, I know. Someone told you that a looooong time ago.

  Kara: So we can add twenty-four dollars to our total.

  Me: No way!

  Kara: Way!

  If Chip Tyler had been in the room with me right then, I’d have kissed him!

  Some of the groups in algebra started presenting their probability projects today. Pri and I got lucky, though. We drew a Monday slot, which meant we’d have all afternoon Sunday to prepare.

  Anyway, James and David presented today. They explained that some companies put prizes in cereal boxes to increase sales. Then customers buy multiple boxes to increase their chances of getting all available prizes. This gave me an idea for a way to ensure higher cupcake sales at the festival next weekend!

  I scooted forward and whispered in Pri’s ear. “We should totally do that.”

  She leaned her head back. “Do what?”

  “Offer a prize with some of the cupcakes …”

  But the blue eyes behind Mr. Gheary’s black-framed glasses looked right at me in a way that somehow suggested I’d better stop talking.

  I finished explaining after class as we walked down the hall. “We already know we’re going to offer our top three flavors at the fall festival. And we already know how many of each to bring! So why not throw in a wild card … something we DON’T know about. Something to attract customers who have a sense of adventure. We can offer prizes with each cupcake. Something trendy that everyone will want!”

  “That’s a fabulous idea, Tabbi!” Pri punched the air excitedly. I took a step back. “But what can we do for a prize?”

  We just told Kara about our super-fab idea to offer a prize with the cupcakes.

  She got that gleam in her eyes — the one that makes it look like she’s trying to see something far, far away, like something on the former planet Pluto. “I’ve got it! The perfect thing. Something inspired by you, Tabs!”

  “WHAT?” I couldn’t imagine….

  Kara smiled. “Tell you what. You guys bring the cupcakes, I’ll donate the prizes.”

  And she wouldn’t say anything else. Grrrr. (And that’s the grrrr of puppies playing with a sock.)

  On my way to sixth period, I heard footsteps behind me — the kind of footsteps that seem to be trying to catch up with someone, because they get faster and faster. The next thing I knew, ANDRES was right behind me!!!

  “Wait up, Tabbi!” he called.

  My feet slowed down, but my heart was racing.

  When he caught up with me, he said, “I wanted to let you know why I haven’t texted you for that recipe yet.”

  “No big deal,” I said, but I HAD been wondering.

  He paused and pulled something out of his notebook. It was a sketch of a girl. A very pretty girl. The drawing was … well … WOW. I was speechless. But not because the drawing was
so great. Because I couldn’t think of a way to ask him if this girl was his girlfriend. And I kinda didn’t want to know the answer anyway.

  “Selena Gomez,” he said.

  It took me a minute to recognize the famous face. Then I found my voice. “That’s amazing!”

  “Well, the drawing is the easy part,” he said. “Now I have to cover it with tiny strips of paper cut from magazines.” He pointed to the right corner where strips of paper were coloring the page.

  “I can already tell it’s going to be beautiful,” I said.

  “Thanks. It’s my advanced art project, and it’s due Monday. I’ll have to wait until after that before trying to bake those chocolate ganache cupcakes. I don’t know if I can wait that long to taste them again.”

  I had an idea. “You won’t have to.”

  Then I told him about the extra gluten-free chocolate ganache cupcakes stowed in my freezer. I promised to bring him one tomorrow.

  “Awesome!” He waved at me before turning into Mrs. Brown’s class.

  I can’t stop smiling, thinking about Andres’s brown eyes and the chocolaty good smell of those gluten-free cupcakes.

  I boxed up one gluten-free chocolate ganache cupcake to give Mr. Gheary. I figured he’d appreciate the chance to share it with Anna, whoever she was, and I wanted to thank him for being our sponsor. I gave Andres the rest of them at lunch. When I set them down in front of him, he stopped what he was doing, which was flipping the tab of a soda can back and forth.

  “Wow, Tabbi!” he said. He gestured for me to sit down across from him (eep!), so I did.

  “Hold on a sec,” he said. “I don’t want to lose track.” He went back to flipping the tab of the can. It came off after about three more flips. He held the tab between his fingers. “H!” He sighed.

  “H?” I asked.

  “Yeah.” Suddenly Andres seemed embarrassed. “It’s just a funny thing my sister taught me. She thinks if you say the alphabet while moving the tab back and forth, then whatever letter it comes off on is the initial of your next girlfriend’s name.”

  I tried to keep my face calm. But my brain was thinking … Woo-hoo! He doesn’t have a girlfriend!!! Then it suddenly switched gears. Hey — wait a minute! Your name doesn’t begin with H!

  “Do you — uh — believe you can make predictions about the future and stuff like that?” I asked. The idea that he might feel the same way I do about signs was exciting!

  Andres shrugged. “Maybe. But not with the soda can thing.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it always breaks off at the beginning or the middle of the alphabet. I mean, if it really worked, I’d never have a chance with a girl whose name started with a T, for example.” Andres grinned and took a bite of cupcake.

  I felt the back of my neck getting warm. I didn’t know what to say…. Honestly, I was afraid if I opened my mouth, something stupid would fall out of it. Given my track record, there was a strong probability of that happening!

  The cupcake I’d boxed up for Mr. Gheary was still sitting next to me; I picked it up and stood. Then, remembering what those Faceplace surveys revealed about physical contact, I reached over and tapped his arm (That’s one more box checked off!) before saying, “Gotta deliver this before the bell rings.”

  There are so many numbers running around in my head right now that I’m feeling dazed.

  Our probability project is almost due, the festival is coming up, and I’m finally making progress on my boy prediction project! I hope I can keep up with it all.

  We rocked the project! It went exactly as planned. Well, almost exactly. I handed Mr. G a sealed envelope with our prediction in it while Pri went down the rows of desks with a tray of mini cupcakes. Each student was asked to take a chocolate, red velvet, or peanut butter cupcake, but not to eat it.

  Then we counted how many were taken of each flavor and wrote the totals on the board. Then Pri said, “Open the envelope, Mr. Gheary, and reveal the prediction!”

  We were already smiling because we knew how close we’d gotten.

  But before Mr. G could open the envelope, there was a knock on the door. I couldn’t believe who stepped inside.

  Andres!

  He flashed me a grin before approaching Mr. G with a note. “My pre-algebra teacher thinks I’m ready to move up.”

  Andres and I have a class together. Whooopeeeee!

  Mr. G took the paper from Andres and nodded. “Have a cupcake and take a seat.”

  Uh-oh. We didn’t know Andres would be there, so we didn’t bring any cupcakes he could eat.

  “Wait!” I said. I grabbed the envelope, scribbled on it, and handed it back to my teacher.

  Pri approached Andres with the tray of cupcakes. “No, thanks,” he said.

  “A kid turning down a cupcake?” said Mr. G. “Bet you didn’t predict that!”

  “Yes, I did,” I said. “Look at the envelope.” Then Andres WINKED at MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

  Mr. Gheary gave us our grade at the end of class. And I can now say that at least one of my predictions has been correct!

  So Andres picked a seat near me in algebra! That’s a good sign. A great sign. A FANTASTIC sign! And when we were talking about why he switched from pre-algebra to algebra, he said, “When my family moved here from Colombia, they held me back so I could get used to speaking English. But now I don’t need to be held back anymore, so they’re trying to get me caught up with kids my own age.”

  Did you catch that? He’s MY AGE!!!!!! Which means he’s a guy who is my age, who goes to my school, who I met in the cafeteria.

  * * *

  My prediction: Andres will be my next boyfriend. (The probability of this is high, anyway, according to my chart!)

  Two more days until the fall festival! I can already tell that:

  Oh! And Andres asked me if I would be there. Which means he’ll be there! So now I really can’t wait!

  * * *

  My prediction: Fall festival success!!!

  Tonight was probably the best night of my entire life. Only one thing could have made it better, and my mom basically kept that from happening. Oh. Well. Speaking of Mom, I’m feeling like I need a little space away from her right now, you know? So I came up here to write down everything that happened, because I don’t want to forget a single detail. (Except for the last five minutes of the fall festival. I’d gladly forget those!)

  Here’s what happened:

  When we got to Lakefront Park, someone had already set up a large ring of white tents. This is where vendors would be selling everything from airbrush tattoos to … well … cupcakes!

  We were all wearing our Johnny Cupcakes shirts, including Mom! She’d surprised me by ordering one for herself. “I thought I should look like part of the force,” she said.

  My mom always looks very put together. She wears suits to work and she gets her hair done regularly. She’s usually the picture of perfection. Seeing her in jeans, black cowboy boots, and a black tee was something I hadn’t expected. She looked ten years younger, I swear! “You look great, Mom!” I said.

  “I feel great, too,” she said. “I don’t know if it’s the T-shirt or the baking, but whatever it is, it’s working!” I couldn’t agree more. And I was super-thankful that Mom had stepped in with the baking. She was a huge help last night and this morning. I don’t know how we’d have managed to get done without her.

  The October breeze was cold and snappy, so we were glad we had our black beanies and fingerless gloves on. Probably by the end of the night we’d need sweaters, too. The two hundred cupcakes (we made extra) were loaded into red wagons that we pulled behind us as we searched for the tent with our assigned number.

  A vendor was already set up in the first tent we passed. Music that made me think of belly dancers played from a purple iPod, and a woman wearing lots of scarves and more makeup than Maybelline sat behind a table with a purple velvet tablecloth. A deep purple curtain embroidered with golden flames hung from a rope that was s
trung across the tent poles. I read the sign.

  I tugged on Mom’s sleeve. “I’ve got to do this! If she really can predict the future …”

  “She can’t,” said Kara.

  “You don’t know that,” I said.

  “Yes,” said Kara, “I do.”

  “Mom?” I asked.

  Mom frowned. “As much as I appreciate the interest you have in your future … at the moment, you need to focus on the present. We have the whole booth to set up in the next thirty minutes.”

  “Okay, okay,” I said, looking backward at Madame Fortuna’s tent. A red-haired boy was looking at her sign, fishing around in his pocket. He pulled out a dollar and held it out to Madame Fortuna. Her long fingernails, painted with glittery purple polish, glinted as she closed her hand around the cash. Her other hand reached up and swiped the curtain closed. All I could see at that point were embroidered golden flames dancing across the indigo background. It looked like a campfire against a perfect night sky. Mysterious!

  I had to have my chance behind that curtain! After all, if you really want your future predicted, you need to put yourself in the hands of a professional. This might be the only way to find out how Andres feels about me!

  Despite Mom’s refusal to let me peer into my future right then, she was in an unbelievably great mood, probably due to the fact that everyone was telling her how young she looked. I took advantage of this. “If we get set up quickly, can I come back?” I asked hopefully. “Pleeeeaaaaaase.”

  Mom rolled her eyes but smiled. “Only if EVERYTHING is set up in time.”

  “No problem!” I cheered. I practically ran to our designated tent, pulling my wagon behind me.

  “Slow down!” called Kara. “You’ll mess up the icing!”

  I didn’t, though! I hung up our sign and started arranging cupcakes on the three-tiered cake stand before the others reached the tent. Within ten minutes we’d set up our table, set out the cash box, and pulled the wagons with the extra cupcakes behind the tables so that we could easily refill the cake stand as needed.