by Sheryl Berk
Kylie looked annoyed. No one was listening to her. They were too busy chattering and passing around the bag of chocolate chips. She cleared her throat and tapped a wooden spoon on the kitchen countertop. Everyone grew silent.
“I hereby call this meeting of Peace, Love, and Cupcakes to order,” she announced.
Most of what they needed to discuss was business as usual: a dozen cupcakes for a seventh birthday party Thursday, and a dozen more for an anniversary dinner Friday night.
“I think we should divide and conquer,” Kylie suggested. “Jenna and Lexi, you come to my house tomorrow and we’ll do the birthday boy’s NASCAR-themed cupcakes, and Laney and Sadie, you guys handle the anniversary couple’s double mocha fudge chip.”
Lexi cut her off: “Can we talk about the design of the opening-night Pygmalion cupcakes?” She pulled out her sketchbook and passed it around the group. “I’ve been working on it since your monster-movie sleepover, and I really think this is it.”
Delaney turned the notebook upside down, then right side up. “I don’t get it,” she said. “It’s an umbrella, a floppy hat, and an airplane.”
“That floppy hat is a sombrero,” Jenna corrected her. “It’s a Mexican hat. But Delaney’s right, Lex. I don’t get it either.”
Lexi snapped her fingers in the air. “The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plane! Remember? It’s the best song in the whole movie!”
Juliette chuckled. “It’s the plain—as in a flat land. Not an airplane, Lexi. It’s not really supposed to make sense. It’s a speech exercise.”
“Oh,” Lexi said, blushing. “I thought it was kinda strange that it would rain inside an airplane…but it looks so good in the sketch!”
“It does!” Delaney nodded. “I like Lexi’s version better.”
“We have plenty of time to talk about London.” Kylie tried to steer them back to the pressing business at hand. “The trip’s not for three weeks.”
“I know! But it’s so exciting!” Lexi said. “Who can think about race car cupcakes when we’re about to see Big Ben and the London Bridge up close and personal?”
“I had this dream last night,” Sadie interjected. “I was kicking around a soccer ball with David Beckham, and he told me that since he’d retired, he needed someone to take his place. So I became a champion English footballer!”
Kylie sighed. “Can we please focus?”
“Do you know,” added Jenna, “that Banoffee Pie is an English dessert made with bananas, cream, and toffee? How cool is that?”
Kylie looked at Delaney. “Aren’t you going to say something about London too?” Delaney just stared, glassy eyed.
“Hello? Earth to Delaney?” Kylie said, poking her.
“Oh! Sorry! I was just imagining myself arm in arm with Daniel Radcliffe at the Pygmalion opening-night party. Do you think I should wear my Hogwarts scarf—or is that too much?”
Juliette smiled. “I’m really glad you girls are so excited about the trip,” she said. “And I don’t think it hurts to plan ahead. Do you, Kylie?”
Kylie shrugged. “I guess.”
“I like where Lexi was going with the My Fair Lady cupcake idea,” Juliette added. “What else from the movie inspires us?”
“Flowers!” Delaney suddenly shouted. “What if we make the cupcakes in flower flavors?”
Sadie looked puzzled. “Are you supposed to eat flowers? I thought you just looked at them and smelled them.”
“Nuh-uh,” Jenna insisted. “I saw an episode of Battle of the Bakers where the contestants had to do cupcakes for the Tournament of Roses parade. All the flavors were flowery, like hibiscus and orange blossom.”
Kylie tried once more to take charge. “Maybe we should do some research first and regroup another day for a taste test. In the meantime, there’s the order for the Amateur Art Show that we still need to discuss.”
“OMG! The art show!” Lexi cried. She’d almost forgotten they had an order for thirty dozen cupcakes due this weekend, not to mention her art entry.
“I’m almost finished with my painting, so all that’s left is to make a mini version on the cupcakes,” she said.
Delaney scratched her head. “You’re gonna paint cupcakes?”
“Kinda,” Lexi replied. “I thought we could paint little fondant canvases with food coloring and frame them with a gold border.”
Jenna smacked her lips together. “Talk to me about flavors.”
“We need to think artsy and colorful,” Lexi replied.
“How about vanilla rainbow tie-dye cupcakes?” Kylie asked. “That’s as colorful as it gets.” She flipped through her binder of recipes. “I’ve always wanted to try this. Basically, once you make the batter, you divide it into smaller bowls and dye each one a different color—red, yellow, blue, green, purple. Then you drizzle the different colors into each cupcake liner and give ’em a swirl with a toothpick.”
Jenna studied the recipe closely. “With all this color going on, the frosting has to look clean and simple but taste delicious. How about a white fluffy marshmallow buttercream?”
“Love it,” Kylie replied. “I think we’ve got a plan.”
• • •
When they met to bake the order two days later, Lexi came prepared. “I wanted to get us all in the mood for our assignment today,” she said, digging into her tote bag. She pulled out five tie-dyed aprons. “I did them myself. Cool, huh?”
“Amazing!” Delaney said, tying one around her waist.
“These are great,” Sadie added. “My old apron was getting really tired.”
“It’s very pretty, Lexi,” Kylie told her. “It’s just not our ‘official’ PLC apron.”
“Yeah? So?” Lexi said. “Everything doesn’t have to be so ‘by the books,’ Kylie.”
Kylie took a deep breath. “It does! That’s how baking cupcakes works,” she insisted. “You follow the recipe word for word, or something is bound to go wrong. Do you remember the time Sadie accidentally swapped strawberry syrup for strawberry preserves in our shortcake cupcakes?”
Sadie shook her head. “Yeah, that was a disaster. Those cupcakes came out like soup. My bad!”
“Which is exactly why we have to always go by the book,” Kylie added.
“I think it’s fun to push the envelope,” Lexi insisted. “Great artists always try new things.”
“Our tie-dye cupcake recipe is new,” Kylie pointed out. But she was getting nowhere. All the girls loved their new aprons. She put on her old purple PLC one, like the others she’d made for the club when they first went into business. It was covered with stains and fraying at the edges, but it had a lot of great memories.
“Whatever,” she shrugged, and gathered ingredients. “Jenna, what kind of vanilla are we using?”
“That was a tough one,” Jenna replied. “I was torn between my two favorites, Mexican and Tahitian.”
“And?” Sadie asked. “What’s the verdict?”
“Neither! Let’s mix it up this time and go for this!” She held up a bottle labeled “Genuine Hawaiian Vanilla Extract.”
“Cool!” Delaney said. “Does it taste different?”
Jenna put a tiny amount on her fingertip. “A little. It’s sweeter and has a really nice aroma.”
She held the bottle under Kylie’s nose. “Don’t ya think?”
Kylie took a sniff. “I guess. Are you sure you don’t want to use our usual vanilla? I mean our vanilla cupcakes are delicious. Why tamper with perfection?”
“I dunno. I thought it would be fun to try something a little different,” Jenna replied. “Like Lexi said, we should push the envelope.”
“The envelope doesn’t need pushing! It’s fine where it is!” Kylie shouted.
“Kylie, are you okay?” Delaney asked her gently. “We’re just trying to have some fun.”
�
��Yeah, you seem a little stressed,” Jenna added. “Ever since Juliette mentioned the London trip, you’ve been kinda grumpy.”
“I’m not grumpy about London. Or the new aprons. Or the new vanilla. Or changing my monster movie night into watching a musical. I just feel like you guys don’t need me anymore!” Kylie blurted out.
“That’s loco, chica!” Jenna said, putting her arm around her friend. “You’re our club president and BFF. Of course we need you!”
“Why? You obviously don’t need me to help you make decisions for PLC!” She stormed out of the teachers’ lounge kitchen, slamming the door behind her. She knew she was overreacting—the girls and Juliette all meant well—but she couldn’t help it. She felt like PLC was slipping through her fingertips and she was helpless to stop it.
Kylie’s mom knocked gently on her bedroom door.
“You okay, honey? Wanna talk about it?”
Kylie buried her head in her cupcake pillow—the one Lexi had given her for her last birthday. “No.”
“Sometimes it makes you feel better if you talk about what’s bothering you. Maybe I can help.” Mrs. Carson pushed the door open a crack. “Can I try?”
“Fine!” Kylie said, rolling over. “But I don’t think you can.”
“What’s up?” her mom said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Does it have to do with school? Boys? Friends?”
“It’s just that everything is changing, Mom. The girls. The cupcake club.”
“How?” her mom asked. “You guys haven’t stopped baking cupcakes, right? It’s not Peace, Love, and Pancakes now, is it?”
“No. It’s just that they don’t need me anymore.”
“Aha,” her mother said. “You mean everyone has become really smart, mature, and independent. They can think for themselves and do things without any help.”
“Exactly! It’s so annoying!” Kylie said, yanking the pillow over her head.
“Interesting. I know just what that feels like.”
Kylie peeked out. “You do?”
“Absolutely. It was only a few short years ago that a girl I knew couldn’t braid her own hair, tie her shoes, make her bed…”
“Mom,” Kylie groaned. “It’s not the same as me growing up and doing those things.”
“Isn’t it?” her mom insisted. “It makes me sad and a little scared that you don’t need me as much as you used to. But it also makes me proud. It tells me I’m doing something right because you’re learning to stand on your own two feet.”
Kylie sat up. “Really? You feel that way sometimes?”
“All the time. More and more every day. Especially the proud part.”
“So you think I should just roll with it. Not get upset if my friends leave me in the dust?”
“Honey,” her mom said, stroking her hair. “They’re not leaving you in the dust. You’re right there with them. You just need to understand that people grow and things change. It’s part of life. That doesn’t mean that the girls love you any less.” She planted a kiss on Kylie’s forehead and got up and walked to the door.
“Mommy?” Kylie called after her. “Thanks.”
• • •
On Saturday morning, Kylie got up early and biked to the New Fairfield Amateur Art Show. Her friends were already there when she arrived, unloading the cupcakes and Lexi’s painting from Sadie’s dad’s contracting truck.
Lexi’s face lit up when she saw her. “Kylie! You came!”
“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Kylie said. “And I’m sorry I bailed on you guys the other day. I shouldn’t have left you to bake all those cupcakes.”
“That was not cool, chica.” Jenna pouted. “We were up to our elbows in rainbow-colored batter.”
“I’m really sorry,” Kylie pleaded with her. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”
“Okay, we forgive you,” Jenna said, hugging her. “As long as you mean that. We stick together, remember?”
“Like Delaney’s marshmallow buttercream frosting.” Sadie chuckled. “It was so gooey, my fingers were glued together!”
“That was just the first batch,” Delaney pointed out. “I overdid it on the Marshmallow Fluff. It happens…”
“Where should we put this masterpiece?” Sadie’s dad asked, lifting out Lexi’s huge cupcake canvas. It was so detailed—with mountains of whipped pink frosting and glittery sprinkles—that it looked good enough to eat.
“Over there.” Lexi pointed to an open easel in the center of the showroom. The gallery was filled with artwork, everything from paintings and charcoal drawings to a giant sculpture made out of old soda cans and license plates.
“What is that?” Sadie asked. “It looks like a pile of junk.”
Lexi shook her head. “That’s not junk. It’s someone’s entry. Art is in the eye of the beholder.”
“I get that,” Sadie answered. “But I could probably make something like that out of the garbage we have in our garage.”
“Hey!” her dad protested. “Are you calling my record collection garbage?”
Sadie rolled her eyes. “Dad, no one listens to Spyro Gyra anymore!”
“I’ve never even heard of him—or her—or them before,” Delaney said.
“What? ‘Morning Dance’ is a classic!” Mr. Harris replied. “You girls don’t know what you’re missing.”
“Speaking of art, where do we put our cupcakes?” Jenna asked. “Do you see anybody in charge around here?” They scanned the room, but everyone was busy unpacking and setting up.
Lexi pointed to a corner where there was an open table draped with a white cloth. “I think the cupcakes are supposed to go there,” she said.
Kylie helped carry them in and set them out on display. It was Lexi’s idea to place them on a blank canvas. “They are so beautiful, guys,” she said. “And Jenna you were totally right. That Hawaiian vanilla smells amazing.”
“Por supuesto! Of course it does!”
“Ladies and gentleman…” A voice suddenly boomed over a loudspeaker. “If we can have all of our artists please stand by their work, the judging is about to start.”
Kylie gave Lexi a gentle push. “Go get ’em, Lex. We’ll be right here if you need us.” She, Jenna, Sadie, and Delaney took their places behind the cupcake table.
It took the panel of three judges more than an hour to make their way around the crowded room. There were artists of all ages—from kids to grandparents. One older lady in a wheelchair proudly showed off her papier-mâché sculpture.
“It’s my Peekapoo puppy, Scooty,” she said. “Isn’t it lifelike?”
The judges looked closely, admiring how she had etched tiny lines to represent fur in the plaster. “Quite detailed,” said one of the judges, a gray-haired gentleman with a mustache. “I can see how much work you put into it.” The woman beamed.
When they arrived at Lexi’s painting, the judges stared long and hard for several minutes.
“What do you call it?” one judge asked her.
“Sweet Sensation,” Lexi replied proudly.
“I see,” he answered.
Lexi gulped. He wasn’t smiling. None of the judges were. In fact, the one with short black hair and an earring in her nose looked bored.
“I’ve seen so many still lifes today.” She yawned. “You’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all.”
“It’s a cupcake—it’s very different from a bowl of apples,” Lexi tried to explain. “And if you look over there, my friends and I did all the cupcakes for the art show with a mini painting on them. Because cupcakes are truly art.”
The other female judge with bright red hair turned to see where Lexi was pointing. “Oh, my! Isn’t that interesting!”
All three judges made their way to the cupcake table. “Have one? Or two or three!” Kylie said, offering them each a treat. �
��This was all Lexi’s idea. Amazing, huh?”
The redheaded judge took a bite. “Heavens! So many colors!”
“I know! Cool, isn’t it?” Kylie said, offering her a second. “It’s a rainbow tie-dye cupcake.”
“Spectacular use of primary shades,” the gentleman added, licking frosting off his upper lip.
“It’s rad,” the third judge decreed.
“Is rad bad…or good?” Delaney whispered to Kylie.
“I don’t know. But I think we’re about to find out.” The judges huddled and began to debate the entries.
“They hated it.” Lexi sighed, joining her fellow PLCers. “I think I put one of them to sleep.”
“Come on, Lex. Don’t give up yet!” Kylie said, squeezing her friend’s hand. “You did an amazing job. Let’s wait and see what they say.”
After much deliberation, the judges handed an envelope to a woman in a pink suit at the back of the room. The lady smiled and stepped up to the microphone.
“Hello, everyone,” she said cheerfully. “My name is Meghan Wilkie, and I am the president of the New Fairfield Amateur Art Society. Welcome to our fifth annual spring show.” The crowd applauded—all except for Lexi, who was biting her nails.
“I am so pleased to see such a wonderful turnout this morning, and such a wide array of artwork. Everything from paintings, sculptures, and videos to art of the edible variety.” She motioned to the cupcake table.
“Did she just call our cupcakes art?” Jenna whispered.
“So now, without any further ado, I would like to announce third place. It goes to Neal Dutta for his amazing recyclable art installation entitled ‘Scrap Heap!’”
The crowd cheered as Sadie watched the artist come up and claim his white ribbon. “That junk won? That is nuts!” she said.
“Shhh!” Lexi hushed her. She was now pacing the floor. “I can’t take the suspense!”
“In second place, we have ‘Pears on a Platter’ by Charity Jackson. Congratulations!” A teenage girl with wavy brown hair stepped up to receive her red ribbon.
“Oh, no! Another still life won? I’ll never win now!” Lexi said, burying her head in Kylie’s shoulder.