The Cupcake Diaries Collection: Katie and the Cupcake Cure; Mia in the Mix; Emma on Thin Icing; Alexis and the Perfect Recipe (38 page)

But thanks to caller ID he already knew who was calling, so I couldn’t exactly hang up. Then, just to confuse me further, in the course of our (very brief) conversation, Matt told me how worried he’d been about Emma, and that he felt bad for some things she was going through at the time.

I was shocked!

I didn’t think boys
worried
about anyone! And feeling bad for someone? That is just unheard of! Suddenly Matt seemed like . . . a real
person
. With feelings! In the end, it was I who rushed us off the phone. I suddenly got really, really nervous and couldn’t believe I’d had the guts to call Matt in the first place. You know in the old cartoons when the coyote runs off a cliff and his feet are still spinning, but he’s in midair and he only falls when he realizes it? That’s what happened to me.

And now, when I heard Dylan talking about the Taylors, all I could think of was Matt. And that gave me a funny feeling, like fish were swimming in my stomach.

I hope he comes to Dylan’s party,
I thought.
Or maybe I don’t. Ugh! I don’t know what I want!

Suddenly the door flew open, and Dylan shrieked when she saw me lying on the floor. I blinked as the bright light from her room hit me.

“I hate this family!” Dylan wailed, stepping over me. She stomped down the hall to the bathroom and shut the door as hard as possible without actually slamming it.

“Alexis, honey, what are you doing there?” my mother asked in her “patient” voice.

I rolled up on one side and propped my head on
my fist. “Just interested in the outcome of everything,” I replied.

My mother smiled at me and shook her head.

“What?” I said in my most innocent voice. “I just want to make sure that we get the job.”

“You’ll get the job, all right, but these better turn out to be the prettiest and tastiest cupcakes you’ve ever baked,” Mom said. She’s pretty tough. She’s not a CPA and a CFO for nothing.

“Mom, please. We run a very professional outfit.”

Dylan came stomping out of the bathroom and glared at my mother. “This is the person you’d like to entrust my dessert to? This . . . worm, lying on the floor like a two-year-old?”

“That’s enough, Dylan. Don’t speak like that about your sister,” Mom warned. (She went to parent training when we were little, and she has all these certain voices and techniques she uses on us.)

“Yeah,” I added. “I’m not two. Or a worm!”

Dylan drew back her leg like she was going to kick me, and I rolled away and sprang to my feet.

“Girls! Counting to three!” Mom yelled.

Dylan shook her head in disgust and stormed into her room, where she collapsed dramatically onto her bed. “The Cake Specialist said they’d even
give me a discount,” she muttered. “I would be the first discount they’ve ever given. They said I drive a hard bargain.”

Mom patted Dylan. “I would expect nothing less, darling. But we need to support a business that is in our family. And I know the Cupcake Club will do a wonderful job for you.”

“Wonderful!” I repeated, raising my arms in victory.

“Argh!” cried Dylan as she pulled a pillow over her head. “Just leave me alone!” After a moment she added, “And just make sure whatever you Cupcakers propose is in my party’s color scheme of—”

My mother and I answered together, “We know, we know, black and gold!”

I put up my hand and my mother gave me a stiff-handed, silent high five. (She’s not the high-fiving type).

“I saw that!” accused Dylan from under her pillow.

My mother and I exchanged a guilty smile.

“They’d better be the best black-and-gold cupcakes you’ve ever made!” said Dylan. “Or else!”

I rolled my eyes, and we left Dylan to her moping.

“Thanks, Mom,” I whispered once we were out
in the hall with Dylan’s door safely closed.

“You’re welcome, dear,” she whispered back. “But you owe me some pretty spectacular cupcakes!”

“Black-and-gold ones! Coming right up!” I said, and we laughed.

We started down the hall. I did a little cha-cha-cha step. I’m obsessed with all the TV dancing shows and like to practice dance moves whenever I can. Music and dance is kind of mathematical, which is why I love it. There’s a logical and organized pattern to everything—the chords, notes, and dance steps.

“Is Dylan really mad, do you think?” I asked. All joking aside, I did not want Dylan as my enemy. She is my only sibling, and we are usually pretty good friends.

My mother thought for a moment. “She is getting everything she wants. The place, the music, the food, the date, the decor, the favors. Everything. Now, she is contributing quite a lot of her own money to it, so she does get her say. But I think she can accommodate me on a few extra faces and a special dessert.”

“Sounds fair to me,” I agreed, and I went to e-mail the Cupcakers with the good news. All we
needed was a great idea, one that would keep Dylan from killing me. Oh yeah, and it had to be black and gold!

I just wished I could e-mail them about Matt Taylor being invited to the party. But what would I say?

Earth to Alexis

A
couple days later we met at Emma’s house. I have always liked baking there because her parents don’t mind if things get messy. Mom kind of freaks out when we’re baking in her sparkling clean kitchen. (Needless to say, I am not messy, but
some
people can be!) We were just brainstorming that day, but I was still glad to be at the Taylors’. I felt a buzz of nervous happiness and had taken a little extra time laying out my outfit the night before. I told myself it was just because it was a Monday and I wanted to start the week off looking good, but deep down inside I knew the real reason: I might see Matt! Was that weird or what?

Thinking about Matt in this new way was weird too. I wished I could tell someone, but even
if I could, I wouldn’t know what to say. Was this what a crush felt like? Or was I just being silly? I’m
never
silly!

Meanwhile, Emma and I were in a debate.

“
Please
, Alexis!” Emma was begging, and her big blue eyes widened as she looked at me.

“No,” I said firmly, and drew myself up as tall as possible to look like I was in charge.

Mia and Katie were laughing at us as Emma and I argued about whether or not we could use real gold flakes in our proposed cupcake design for Dylan’s party. It was true that they would look spectacular, but they were so expensive and, to be honest, I didn’t want perfect Dylan to have
real
gold cupcakes! She was being such a brat about everything these days, it would feel like we were rewarding her for her bad behavior.

But of course Emma didn’t see it that way as she huffed and crossed her arms. I could see the glimmer of a smile underneath, though, and I smiled at her, narrowed my eyes, and dared her to smile back. Finally she smiled back—victory!

Just then a voice asked, “Hey, what’s the deal?”

Matt!

We hadn’t heard him come in and now we all whipped around in surprise. My heart leaped as my
stomach got all fluttery again. Matt has light, curly hair and blue eyes, and seemed to look especially cute today.

“Oh, Alexis is just being a tough CFO,” said Mia.

“Well, someone has to be, or you’d all just be
giving
these cupcakes away,” I said huffily. I wasn’t really annoyed, but it made me feel less nervous to act like I was in front of Matt.

“You tell ’em, Alexis!” he said, smiling at me as he went into the kitchen. Was I imagining things or did his eyes twinkle? I was definitely feeling a little light-headed.

Emma grinned. “Huh! Look who’s best friends now that you saved my life together,” she said, reminding us about the time a few weeks ago when Matt and I worked together to help her out. “Usually he acts like he doesn’t even know any of your names!”

Best friends! Hardly, but the idea of Matt and me linked in any way, shape, or form (plus, he’d smiled at me!) caused a warm feeling in my chest that quickly spread up into a blush.

Noticing how red I’d turned, Emma’s grin quickly faded, and she gave me a strange look. Uh-oh. I ducked my head down and looked
back at my leather-bound account ledger.

“Okay,” I said, quickly trying to think of something else. “We have about twenty-five cents per cupcake to work with. Batter is ten cents per cupcake and frosting is five cents, so that leaves us with ten cents for any kind of decoration. By my calculations, the gold costs twenty cents per cupcake and that is just too much!”

“How does she figure this stuff out?” Katie asked the others.

“And why does she
want
to? That’s the real question!” said Mia with a laugh.

“Ha-ha. Very funny.
Not
,” I protested.

Even though I was talking to my friends, my mind was still on Matt. I heard his footsteps cross the floor above us, and I wondered what he had for homework and what subjects he liked. I also wondered what I would say to make conversation if he came back down. I chewed on my pen cap as I thought.

Suddenly I heard Katie saying, “Earth to Alexis!” and looked up to see everyone staring at me. Apparently Katie had been asking me a question.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts. “Oh, sorry. What?”

“Alexis, did you take your omega-threes today?”
Mia teased. “You seem really spacey!” She always makes fun of me and my vitamins, but I know they work. My whole family is about “optimizing our engines,” so we eat superhealthy meals and exercise together, and we like to take supplements.

“Yes, I did,” I replied, making a face at her. Usually I don’t mind if my friends tease me, but I get annoyed when they make fun of me in front of other people—like Matt. I hoped he couldn’t overhear any of this.

“Someone’s a little testy!” said Katie as Emma frowned.

“What?” I asked, looking at Emma, and it came out a little harsher than I meant it to.

“Oh, nothing,” Emma said, but I knew that wasn’t true. Maybe she could tell that her brother was the cause of my freak-out.

Luckily Mia started talking about something else. “Hey, what are you going to wear to Dylan’s party?” she asked. Mia is really into fashion, and her mom is a stylist, so clothes are always on her mind.

I was glad for the change of subject, even though it meant we hadn’t yet figured out our budget. I told Mia that Dylan was going to set some things aside for me at Icon (Mia and Dylan’s favorite store, but not mine), and I could bring the Cupcake Club
with me this weekend to go try them on. As long as there wasn’t anything too racy, that was good for me. Showing a lot of skin made me nervous. I wished I could get something at Big Blue, which was my favorite store since it was kind of preppy-casual, but they didn’t have anything “special” enough for Dylan there. Or anything black and gold enough.

“So we’ll go with you before we bake on Saturday, then,” offered Katie. “Where are we baking again?”

It should really be my turn, but I didn’t say anything for a minute, hoping Emma would offer. I looked down at the ledger.

Mia thought out loud. “Well, today is Emma’s, tomorrow is my house, and Friday is Katie’s, so . . .”

Everyone was looking at me, so I had to answer. “We could do my place, I guess. It’s just that Emma is way closer to the mall . . . if we need to walk.”

“Your dad would totally drive us! He’s so nice about it!” Katie said. It was true. My dad was willing to drive us anywhere ever since he got his new car.

“I’d much rather be at your house,” Emma added. “It’s so peaceful and organized and clean! And there aren’t any boys. . . .”

Yeah, that’s not good news,
I said to myself. Inside
I felt bummed that we weren’t going to be at the Taylors’, but I knew it wouldn’t be fair not to offer, so I said, “Okay, my house it is.”

Then we kept brainstorming and came up with three pretty good ideas for Dylan’s party. Well, the other girls did most of the thinking. My mind was upstairs where Matt was the whole time. I kept wondering if and when he was going to appear again. And what I would say to him if he did.

If that afternoon was an equation, it would have looked like this:

(Friends + business) / cute boy = brain dead

Here’s what we finally came up with:

Option A. Disco cupcakes: white cake with black vanilla frosting and Emma’s coveted gold flakes strewn across the top.

Option B. S’mores cupcakes: angel food cake injected with liquid marshmallow and frosted with dark (black-looking) chocolate. They would have a sprinkling of graham crackers on top. They would probably be the best-tasting but not the coolest-looking.

Option C. Gift cupcakes: small yellow cupcakes peeled out of their wrappers and coated with raspberry jam, and then wrapped in a round sheet of black fondant tucked under at the bottom so they looked like a smooth hill. They would be individually wrapped like a gift with gold ribbon tied in a big bow on top. They would definitely be the prettiest ones.

It was a good day’s work, though I hardly remember what was said after Matt showed up. Thank goodness I take good notes!