Where There's a Whisk

by Sarah J. Schmitt

  He clears his throat. “You okay?”

  I nod, but my head is swooning. Spending time with Hakulani was fun and easy, but as much as he makes me blush, Paulie makes me feel safe.

  “What were we talking about?” I ask.

  “What you’re going to do now that you and Hakulani have ended your charade and everything,” he reminds me.

  “I don’t know. Finish the contest. See what happens next. But right now, I think I’m going to learn how to throw pizza dough in the air.”

  Paulie laughs. “You think you can learn how to throw in a night?”

  “How hard can it be?” I ask. “You learned.”

  “Wow, you’re going to come at me like that? In my uncle’s shop?”

  I roll my shoulders, never breaking eye contact with him. “Would you please teach me how to throw pizza in the air?”

  “Do you need to catch it?”

  “That would be preferable.”

  He grabs a dough ball and puts it down in front of me. “Wash your hands.”

  When my hands are clean, I compare the size of our dough. “How come yours is bigger?” I ask.

  “Baby steps,” he says before showing me how to prep the dough.

  My first attempt ends with us waiting for the dough to drop from the ceiling. It doesn’t take long, but it’s long enough for Paulie to mock me for my earlier comments. The second attempt is a little better. The third attempt lands on Paulie’s head like a cake covered in fondant.

  “I just can’t allow you to injure any more dough balls,” he says as I poke a hole in the dough for his eyes, nose, and mouth. He promptly removes it from his head and shoots it in the trash like a basketball.

  “Hey,” I said. “I was using that.”

  “For everyone’s safety, I think this lesson is over.”

  “Not cool,” I say, taking a small handful of flour and tossing it at him.

  “Hey,” he shouts, and the seriousness in his voice takes me by surprise. “Watch the clothes.”

  I’m so focused on trying to tell if he’s joking or serious that I don’t see the spray of flour until it hits me on the side of the face.

  “Are you kidding me?” This time I don’t hold back and let him have a full blast of flour full on in the face.

  “Oh. It’s like that?” he asks, flour floating in the air with every word.

  I try to say I’m sorry, but I’m laughing too hard, so all I can do is back away.

  He raises his eyebrows, or at least I think he raises his eyebrows. It’s kind of hard to tell with the flour clinging to his features, which just makes me laugh harder. Without looking away, he picks up a bowl of flour and starts toward me, holding it with both hands so it hangs over my head. I sober quickly once I realize that he is serious and start pleading for mercy. I keep backing up and squirming to find a way out as Paulie toys with me, an evil smile on his face like he can’t wait to give me my just reward. Then, just as he’s about to dump it, I reach up and tip it back toward him. The metal bowl clangs to the ground, and the look of shock on his face is too much for me to handle. I bend over at the waist, tears turning the flour on my skin to paste.

  “I give up,” he says.

  “Yes! I win. I win,” I say, dancing around him. I should have remembered that my shoes and flour don’t mix, because a minute later I’m falling again. And just like before, Paulie catches me.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  I am very aware of his arms holding me up. I get my footing back and stand, my head inches from his chest. Looking up, our eyes lock. My breath is the only thing I can hear in that moment. That is, until he says, “I think I’d like to kiss you now.”

  I nod slowly. “I think I’d like that.”

  And then he does.

  His warm lips meet mine and the rest of the world fades away. I feel myself lean against him, my hand resting above his heart and I swear it’s beating in time with mine. The kiss lasts just a few seconds. It would have been longer except Paulie pulls away suddenly and spins me around so that his back is facing the glass window.

  “How did they find us?” he hisses, and I peek over his shoulder to find the red light from hell.

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY-THREE

  WHEN PAULIE FINALLY OPENS THE DOOR, IT’S NOT just a camera crew, but Caitlin, too. I expect her to lay into us for taking off, but she’s so happy she managed to catch me kissing someone on film that she laughs it off.

  “How did you find us?” Paulie asks.

  “Do you really think we would let you run off in the city without a way to track you?” she asks.

  Paulie pats himself. “Did you put a tracker on us?” he demands.

  “In your shoes,” she says. “Don’t worry. We’ve only used them when you were unsupervised. Now, if you don’t mind, let’s get this cleaned up and get on the road.” She pulls out her phone and makes a call. “A cleaning crew will be here soon. You might want to let your uncle know, in case he wants to supervise.”

  Paulie picks up the cordless phone and punches in a speed dial.

  “How did you know that?” I ask.

  “You think Cy is the only one who has put in hours here? For everyone in the family, it’s practically required to spend a summer slinging pie.” After talking to his uncle, Paulie hangs up. “He’ll be here in a few minutes,” he says.

  “We’ll wait on the bus,” Caitlin says, walking to the door and holding it open for us.

  The thought of stepping up on the bus turns my stomach. Hakulani and I just ended our fake relationship, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to be okay with this sudden turn of events with Paulie.

  My worry is wasted. Hakulani gives us a slow golf clap as we walk down the aisle. Malik just grins at me, but I know he’s going to want details.

  Paulie and I sit in silence as we wait for his uncle. “Be back,” he says.

  I move to watch the exchange through the window. It doesn’t take long and ends with his uncle giving Paulie a big hug.

  I move back to our seats as he steps back into the bus. When he sits, I ask, “Was he mad?”

  “Nah,” Paulie says. “He just asked if you were worth it.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “Nope. My uncle’s a romantic.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “The camera crew got it all on tape. Guess you’ll have to wait to find out.”

  I lightly punch him in the arm. “Rude.”

  He looks at me with wide eyes. “Me? I’m not going around kissing a guy one second and then punching him the next.”

  “Shut up,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

  Paulie takes my hand, interlocking our fingers together, but says nothing. In fact, he doesn’t say anything else until he walks me down the hall of the apartment, stopping at my door.

  Turning toward me, he looks into my eyes and I see gold specs in the center of his dark brown ones.

  “Goodnight,” he says, his voice low and husky.

  “Goodnight,” I repeat, very aware that my palms are starting to sweat.

  Paulie puts his hand on the side of my cheek and leans in, gently kissing me on the lips before pulling back. “See you in the morning.”

  I nod, but don’t say anything. He sidesteps me and heads for his room.

  When I shut the door behind me, I feel a pang of sadness. I would give anything to have Inaaya here so I can process what just happened and to have someone who will get excited with me. Heck, even Lola or Dani would be okay by me. I smile as I gather my things for a shower. With every step I take, flour falls off me, leaving a faint white dust everywhere. Okay, maybe not Dani.

  The next morning, when we load up in the bus, Hakulani gives me a huge I-told-you-so grin before he climbs in, and then Paulie follows, coming to sit right next to me. He leans over and quietly tells me what happened after we said goodnight. Apparently, after he left me in the hallway, Paulie and Hakulani sat down and hashed things out, however guys do that s
tuff.

  The drive to the studio seems like the shortest one yet somehow, and the next thing I know, we are getting ready to get off. Hakulani and Paulie have already left, but Malik, unable to resist any longer, stops me before I get off. “So, you and Paulie?” he asks, giving me a grin. “It’s about time.”

  “Shut up,” I say, but I’m smiling back at him.

  He holds up his hands in surrender. “Hey, I made this call during week one. I mean, Hakulani’s good-looking and all, but Paulie is the right one for you.”

  “I’m glad you think so.”

  Jessica meets us in the studio, and she doesn’t look happy.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask her as we get closer.

  She smiles, trying to fool us, but she fails. “We’re going to get started in a few minutes,” she says, her tone clipped. “Go ahead and line up.”

  When we’re lined up and the camera begins rolling, Jessica takes a deep breath and pastes her smile on her face. “Over the weekend you were all treated to two Broadway shows, and I hope you had a great time.”

  “Best weekend ever,” Paulie says, and I look down to hide my silly grin.

  Jessica’s smile falters. “I’m glad you think so. But today’s twist is that the challenge is a surprise elimination round.”

  My stomach drops. This close to the end?

  But Jessica isn’t done. “And it’s not just an elimination, but—” She pauses letting the anticipation build. “—It’s another double elimination.”

  My smile evaporates. “You’re not kidding?” I ask before I can stop myself. “Another double?”

  I look at the others and see that they are as shocked as I am.

  “Always expect a twist,” Paulie says.

  Jessica gives us a minute to settle down before continuing, the multiple cameras panning to catch each expression. “For today’s challenge, you will be creating a layered cake based on one of the Broadway shows you saw over the weekend. You’ll have six hours to complete the challenge.”

  As upset as I am about the double elimination, the fact that it’s a baking challenge means that I have a chance of making it to the finals. For a moment my nerves are replaced with excited butterflies—the finals.

  “All right, the beginning of the semifinal challenge and your six-hour time starts… Now! Good luck,” Jessica says and we move to our kitchens, still stunned from the announcement.

  Yesterday, I thought it would be hard to pick the show to use for inspiration, but in this moment, the choice is obvious. I gather three pie pans and six deep round cake pans, as well as another mixer. Then I start sketching out my idea as well as listing all the ingredients and any special things I’ll need to make sure this dish is a success. I run to the pantry, grabbing as much as I can before the others get in here and start taking what I need.

  Jessica, seeing all the extra supplies I’m getting, comes by my station with the cameras in tow. “Hey, Peyton.”

  “Hi. Wild twist, right?”

  “You have no idea,” she said. “But I’m more interested in what’s going on over here.”

  Jessica really is a good host.

  “I am planning on making pie dough and three different cake batters.”

  Jessica looks at me in confusion. “I get the cake batters, but why are you making pie dough?”

  I grin at her, but I keep my eyes on the measuring cup. “You’ll see. It’s something I’ve always wanted to try but never have.”

  Her voice betrays her surprise. “You’ve never made this before?”

  “Nope.”

  “And you’re going to try it during the semifinal round?”

  “It’s a little crazy.”

  “It’s a lot crazy,” Malik interjects from his station. “I like it.”

  Jessica smiles at him before turning back to me. “I see you have key limes, which we all know I love, but you also have strawberries, marshmallows, and whipping cream. Honestly, Peyton, I have no idea what you’re doing.”

  “Go big or go home, right?”

  “I guess. Just keep an eye on your time. The cake has to be ready in six hours, including decorating.”

  “Got it.”

  As I ice my cake and prepare to place the fondant decorations on, I feel more myself than I have since I got here. More who I want to be. When I stand in front of the judges and present my cake, I don’t think I’ve ever been prouder of a creation.

  “What is it?” Angelica asks.

  “A piecaken,” I say. “Think of it as turducken, but with cakes and pies.” I realize I am risking offending Angelica’s sensitive palate, but if that happens, so be it. She’s been telling me to think outside of the box, and it doesn’t get more creative or inventive than a piecaken.

  Billy looks confused. “But where’s the pie?”

  I laugh and the PAs bring out a tray with three pieces of each layer. “The pie is baked and then baked again inside the cake. The decoration is inspired by the musical Waitress.”

  “Why did you pick Waitress?” Jessica asks. “I thought you were uber excited about Hamilton.”

  “Oh, I was,” I assure her. “In fact, when Waitress ended, I thought there was no way I was going to use it as my inspiration.” I turn to face the judges. “The main character was so much like me, it was scary. I watched my greatest fear play out on the stage. When it was over, I hated it.”

  “What changed your mind?” Billy asks.

  I think for a minute before answering. “The more I thought about Jenna, the main character, the more I realized she was stronger than I was giving her credit for. She took her situation in life and found the courage to change it. Not to a fairy-tale ending, but to the best one she could make happen. There was so much more to her than I could see.”

  “Like this piecaken?” Billy asks.

  I laugh. “Exactly.”

  “Tell us about it,” he prompts.

  “Sure. The first layer is key lime pie in a vanilla bean cake.”

  Billy looks up. “Your famous key lime pie.”

  “Not famous yet, but I’m working on it,” I tease, and he laughs.

  “Next is a lemon pie in a strawberry cream cake, and the third is a chocolate cake with a sugar cream pie center.”

  “The combinations are pretty simple, don’t you think?” Angelica says, but this time I’m prepared for her.

  “Some people might think they are simple. The combinations I selected stand up well on their own, but when you pair them together, the textures mingling in each bite, they create a culinary experience that is completely original.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” A. J. says, licking the back of his fork.

  I watch as Angelica takes several bites of each layer. To my surprise, she looks at me and says, “It’s not bad.”

  My mouth gapes open. That has to be the nicest thing Angelica has ever said to me. And, yes, the bar is pretty low when you figure the first day we met she threatened to send me home, but today, I’m going to take her “not bad” and own it.

  After everyone else presents their cakes—all of them had a variation on Hamilton—we’re sent back to the waiting room while the judges make their decision.

  No one says anything as we wait. I know I left everything out on the floor, but as I look around the room, I can’t help but wonder if it was enough. Did I meet the expectations of the judges?

  I can tell everyone is as nervous as I am. Hakulani is tugging on his puka necklace, and Paulie is reading the emergency evacuation instructions that are taped to the wall while bouncing on the balls of his feet. And Malik is lying back against the couch, his eyes closed, but I know he’s not as chill as he likes people to think.

  “They’re ready,” the PA says, and we walk, in silent single file, back to the set.

  Jessica smiles at us. Maybe a little too brightly, and we try to mimic her for the sake of the camera.

  “This is it,” she says. “The two remaining contestants will square off tomorrow in the finale.” She
pauses and I take a deep breath, knowing her perfected pauses are going to feel like forever. “The first person advancing to the finale is…”

  Come on, Jessica, just tell us already.

  But the pause continues, and I look at Malik and Paulie, who are standing by my side. I wrap my arms around their waists and feel Hakulani’s long arm reach behind Malik, his hand coming to rest at the nape of my neck.

  Everything gets quiet as we wait. And then Malik’s expression changes instantly when Jessica calls his name.

  “Me?” he says, obviously stunned. “For real?”

  I give him a congratulatory hug as Hakulani slaps him on the back. “You deserve it,” he says.

  Paulie echoes his congratulations.

  As Malik takes his place next to Jessica, the only thing I can hear is the beating of my heart. I prepare myself to not hear my name. I chant a plea that I won’t cry over and over. It’s during that time I completely miss Jessica announcing that I’m advancing to the finale, too. It’s not until Paulie lifts me up and swings me around that it becomes real.

  There’s no time for me to say everything I need to before Hakulani and Paulie are rushed out of the the kitchen by the PAs, but I catch Paulie’s gaze just before the swinging door closes.

  And I totally cry.

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY-FOUR

  THE APARTMENT IS EERILY QUIET WHEN WE GET BACK.

  “Do you want to have a slumber party on the roof?” I ask Malik in the elevator.

  “Sure,” Malik says, standing in the doorway of the master bedroom.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, giving him a hard look.

  “It still smells like Dani.”

  I laugh, leaning around him to sniff. “It really does. I have to find out what she wore because it has staying power.”

  “Either that or she’s haunting you from the outside world. Meet you on the roof in ten,” Malik says.

  “Raise a glass?” I say, holding an imaginary cup in the air.

  “Raise a glass.”

  I head back to my room and grab everything I need for a quick shower. Nine minutes later, I’m in comfy PJs and heading up the stairwell. By the time I get to the roof, Malik has already claimed the comfortable couch by the fire.