Truth Game (6 page)

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” Mom says as we get in the car to head to our first cleaning job of the day. I barely slept last night because I was so busy stressing about the chocolate-raspberry macaroons I wound up making for Chip Ackerson. They're good, and way fancier than the stuff I normally make, but I don't know if they're special enough. I mean, he eats unbelievable pastries all the time. Mine have to stand out.

Then, when I did finally manage to fall asleep, I dreamed about kissing a giant octopus that had Evan's face. Its slimy tentacles kept getting in the way so that our lips never even touched. Blech!

We pull up to the Town Center Inn, and I take a deep breath before heading out of the car, my plate of plastic-wrap-covered pastries clutched to my chest. I'd been hoping to wear my lucky shirt today, the one I stained with toothpaste on the first day of school, but I couldn't find it anywhere. Hopefully that's not a bad omen.

As I walk, I mumble what I'm going to say under my breath. “Hi! I'm Rachel Lee. I auditioned for
Pastry Wars
and didn't get in, but I think if you try these pastries, you'll see that I deserve another chance.”

When I go in, I'm surprised to see the inn is tiny and decorated with old quilts and tacky wooden vases. Not exactly the kind of place where I'd expect a big-time TV personality to be staying, but maybe he's trying to fly under the radar. Or maybe there aren't a lot of good housing options in town. The hotel where Dad is staying is basically a row of beige boxes.

When I get to the front desk, a man with a looping gray mustache beams back at me. “How can I help you?” he asks.

“I'm looking for one of your guests. Mr. Ackerson?” I whisper, in case him staying here is a secret.

The man looks up the name. “I'm afraid he's not here right now. I can leave a message for him.”

“Oh.” Of course he's not here. He's probably off doing location scouting or something. “Can I leave something in his room?”

“Sorry!” the man says cheerfully. “Can't do that. But if you'd like to leave it with me, I'll be sure he gets it.”

I glance down at the plate. I worked so hard on these. Can I really hand them over to anyone but Chip? But what choice do I have? If I didn't have to work at the bakery today, I'd camp out in front of the inn all day, but that's not an option.

“Okay…” I say, handing the plate over.

“Ooh, these look delicious,” the man says, the ends of his mustache twitching. “I'll be sure Mr. Ackerson gets them.”

That'll have to be good enough. I thank him and rush back to my mom's car.

“Well, did you meet him?” she practically shrieks.

I shake my head and tell her what happened. As we pull away, Mom looks almost as disappointed as I feel.

• • •

In between afternoon cleaning jobs, my phone beeps, telling me that I have yet another new Truth Game questionnaire waiting for me. This one is called “Friends.” Since Mom is deep in thought as we drive across town, I decide to take a look.

1. Do you have a best friend?

That's easy. Marisol has been my best (and, until recently, only) friend for years. Definitely “yes.”

2. Have you ever told your best friend a major lie?

Ugh. The truth is, I've lied to Marisol more times than I'd like to count. When your best friend's moral compass is pretty much stuck at north all the time, sometimes it's easier to hide stuff from her than admit to totally messing up. But I've sworn to Marisol that I'll be honest with her from now on, so I don't feel totally terrible when I answer “yes.”

3. Do you ever wish you were best friends with someone else?

I start to choose “no,” but my fingers hesitate without my brain's approval. I love Marisol, of course. She's the only person in the world who'd go along with my crazy schemes and forgive me for being a total idiot sometimes. But I can't help thinking about how things have felt off between us lately, especially last night. We used to be so in sync, but now…I don't want a different best friend, not exactly. I wish that she was still a little more like the old Marisol, that's all. Finally, I choose “I don't know.”

4. What's something about your best friend that would surprise people if they knew?

I think for a second and then write, “That she's not as honest as she thinks she is. She's always going on about being up-front with everyone, but she's been lying to her mom about dating A. Her mom would freak out if she knew, and I bet A would freak out if he knew their relationship was a secret.”

5. Dare time! Do something to show your best friend how you feel about him or her. Write about it here in the next forty-eight hours for bonus points!

That one's easy. Maybe I can make Marisol some cookies or something and show her that even if we're both super busy with our own lives right now, she's still my BFF. Or maybe I'll make pineapple upside-down cake and hopefully it'll jog her memory about the pineapple gods.

We pull up to Caitlin Schubert's house, and I quickly close the app and put my phone away. Inside, Caitlin's mom, Ms. Montelle, is bustling around the house like she can't figure out where she left her head.

“Thank goodness you're here!” she says. “This house is such a mess that I can't even find my to-do lists for the wedding.” She laughs. “First thing on the list? Clean the house.”

Mom smiles and assures her that we'll take care of everything. Over the summer, we were afraid we'd lost Ms. Montelle as a client, but now that Mom is working with Ladybug Cleaners, we're back to doing her house every weekend. I don't even dread seeing Caitlin, though I doubt the two of us will ever be best friends or anything.

“Who said planning a wedding in a month was a good idea?” Ms. Montelle is saying as she paces around the kitchen. “I must have been out of my mind!”

Mom gives a sympathetic chuckle. “You'll be great. Everything will work out.”

“Caitlin's been so helpful, but knowing we're going to be on TV puts that much more pressure on everything!”

“You can rest assured that the catering will be perfect. Rachel here works at Ryan's Bakery now.”

Ms. Montelle turns to me. “You do? That's wonderful!”

I shrug. “I won't be there the day of the wedding though. I'll be back at the bakery. But Bri—” I freeze, remembering I'm not supposed to tell anyone about Briana being there. How is she going to keep Caitlin (or anyone) from seeing her at the wedding when Cherie will probably have her running around all day setting stuff up? But I definitely don't want to be the one to spill Briana's secret, so I keep my mouth shut.

“Hi there!” a friendly looking man with a graying beard calls from the hallway. “I'm Paul Brennan! The fiancé!” He comes over and enthusiastically shakes our hands, like he's thrilled to meet us. He seems just as nice as Ms. Montelle and not at all what I expected a rich, big-shot guy to be like.

Ms. Montelle smiles and puts her arm around his waist. “This whole thing has gotten so big so fast! We wanted a nice, small wedding. But as long as the groom shows up, I'll be happy.”

“Hmm,” he says, pretending to mull that over. “I'll see if I can fit it into my calendar.”

“And a delicious wedding cake wouldn't hurt either.” She gives me a little wink.

As I watch Ms. Montelle and Mr. Brennan drive off to an appointment with the florist, I suddenly have an image of their perfect wedding cake again. It's still covered in seashells, but this time, it's a soft-blue color with a few pops of yellow to reflect their sunny personalities.

I shake the image out of my head. Not only will I never be allowed to touch their wedding cake, but I know the one Chef Ryan is planning is way more intricate than the one in my head. There's no way they'd be into something so ordinary.

When Mom and I are almost done cleaning, Caitlin comes through the door with Steve Mueller. I freeze. Oh my goldfish. Steve Mueller is going to see me covered in grime and sweat and sporting neon cleaning gloves! But then I remember: I don't care about Steve Mueller anymore. Not only is he dating Caitlin now, but I have a much better guy in my life who actually knows I exist. Still, I tear off my gloves and smooth back my hair, trying to look as presentable as possible. Just because my crush on Steve is gone doesn't mean I want him to see me looking like a house elf.

“Oh hey, Rachel,” Caitlin says, and it almost sounds friendly coming out of her mouth. “How's it going?”

“Good.” I swallow, forcing myself to talk to her like we're not on totally different ends of the popularity chain. “That's so crazy that you won the Cooking Network contest!”

Her face lights up. “I know, right? I never thought I'd have a chance. My mom thinks it's pretty cool, but I don't think she understands how amazing it is. You're a big fan too, aren't you?”

“That's kind of an understatement,” I say with a laugh.

Steve lets out a good-natured groan. “I don't get why people watch shows about food. I'd rather just eat it.”

Caitlin gives him a playful jab in the side. How come when
she
does it, she doesn't end up hitting her boyfriend's funny bone? “If I didn't watch all those shows, I wouldn't know how to make you all those cookies you like.”

He grins. “Good point.”

“I should get back to work,” I mumble.

But as I start to drag the vacuum away, Caitlin stops me. “By the way, have you seen Briana lately? I've been trying to call her, but she's been kind of MIA.”

The question totally catches me off guard. Since when is Briana's best friend asking me about her? Wait. Does she know that Briana and I work together?

I must look confused because she adds, “I figured since you and Evan are a thing, maybe you go over to their house sometimes.”

Ah. I guess the job is a secret after all. “I don't know. I think she's been pretty busy.”

Caitlin sighs. “I feel like she's been avoiding me lately. Is she okay?”

“I think so,” I say, but then I remember how worried Evan's been about her and how sad she looked at the bakery the other day. How can I tell Caitlin about that without giving away Briana's secret?

Steve waves his hand dismissively. “She's fine. It's Briana. That girl can bounce back from anything. Remember when she got hit in the head during a softball game last year, and instead of going to the hospital, she went to get her hair done?”

Caitlin lets out a soft laugh. I realize it might be the first time I've ever heard her laugh. I guess Steve must have that effect on her. “She did wind up with really hideous highlights, but otherwise she was fine.”

“Rachel!” Mom calls from down the hall. “Are you ready to go?”

“Coming!” I say. Then I give them an awkward wave and head down the hall with my vacuum.

Dad's not at Molly's when I get there for Sunday brunch, so I sit by the entrance and start working on another Truth Game questionnaire. I'm starting to see why Briana is so into this game. For her, it's all about proving how much better she is than all the other kids at our school. For me, it's about seeing how much I have in common with them.

I've always felt like a total outsider, but maybe I'm not as different from everyone as I thought. The numbers say so. Sixty percent of the people who answered the jobs questionnaire had the same answers as me. Sixty! That makes me in the majority! I'm willing to bet that's the first time that's ever happened.

This questionnaire is all about parents.

1. Do you get along with your parents?

Mom and I used to be on totally different planets, but now we actually get along really well, even if she does still drive me a little nutty sometimes. And my dad might be a big kid sometimes, but he always listens. I choose “yes.”

2. Do they understand you?

This is a tough one. Mom tries to understand me, but we're so different that I think sometimes we can't figure each other out. And now that Dad and I have been apart for a while, I feel like we're not always on the same page anymore. I finally pick “I don't know.”

3. Do you ever wish you were born to someone else?

I think about that for a minute and realize that I can honestly say “no.” Mom and I might not have always gotten along, but she's always been a total rock in my life, even when I didn't deserve it. When I think about all the stuff I've done—lying to her, stealing money from my bank account, etc.—it's a miracle she's still speaking to me! Compared to Evan's mom, who doesn't seem to support him unless he's doing what she wants him to do, I realize how lucky I am to have mine. In fact, I'll have to remember to give her a big hug when I get home. My response is “No!”

4. What's one thing no one knows about your parents?

5. For bonus points, we dare you to show your parents how you feel about them in the next twenty-four hours and tell us about it here!

I don't get to write anything for the last two questions because Dad rushes through the door. “Sorry I'm late, Roo!” he says.

I can't help noticing how grimy he looks. And for some reason, he's wearing an orange life jacket. “What did you do, jump ship?” I ask, quoting
Back to the Future
, one of his favorite movies.

“Oops! I forgot I had this on.” He grins as he pulls off the life vest. “Guess what? I got a new job!”

“You're not doing boat tours again, are you?” In Florida, Dad did scuba and snorkeling trips along the coast, but considering it's almost fall and we're in New England, I doubt that's going to work very well this time.

“Nope!” he says. “I'm the new manager of a canoe and kayak shop.”

I stare at him for a second. “Do you know anything about canoes and kayaks?” I can't help asking, getting serious déjà vu to last year when my dad took one scuba class and decided he was meant to go teach classes in a whole other part of the country. Did he catch one glimpse of a kayak and realize it was his new life's calling?

“Actually,” he says, “I used to go kayaking with your grandpa all the time when I was a kid.”

“Really? I don't think you've ever told me about that.”

He chuckles. “I'd forgotten, to be honest. It was so long ago. But we'd go almost every weekend when I was growing up. I loved being out on the water. Maybe that's why the idea of starting a scuba business spoke to me.”

“But isn't it getting too cold for that kind of thing?” I ask.

“Business
is
slow during the winter,” he admits, “but the shop recently moved to a bigger location, and they're looking to expand. They want to branch out into selling skiing and indoor rock-climbing equipment, and they want me to help them.”

“But you've never even been rock climbing!” I say.

Dad grins. “There's only one way to fix that. I'm taking a rock-climbing class this weekend. Do you want to take it with me?”

“Um, Dad? Have you seen me try to walk up and down stairs? That's dangerous enough.”

“I'm serious, Roo. It'll be fun. And who knows, maybe this will be the thing we do together on weekends now that I'm back in town, just like my dad and I used to go kayaking.”

When he puts it like that, I can't say no. Besides, the questionnaire about my parents is still bouncing around in my head. If I go risk my life for my dad, that's certainly showing him how much I care about him, right?

After we order our usual crepes, Dad asks me all about school and my job. I can't get over how weird and yet normal it is to have him around to talk to about all these things. I didn't realize how much I missed it.

“I'm so glad you came back,” I tell him.

“I know, Roo. Me too.”

“And just in time for my big TV debut!” I say. Then I tell him about dropping the macaroons off for Chip Ackerson this morning. “I wish I could have seen the look on his face when he tasted them, but I'll have to imagine it.”

“What did you say in your note?” Dad asks.

“Note?”

“When you left the cookies for him, you left a note, right? So he'd know who they were from.”

I stare at him, horror creeping through my entire body. “Oh my goldfish,” I whisper. “I didn't leave a note.” How could I be so stupid? “I practiced what I was going to say to him, but when he wasn't there, I guess I kind of got flustered and…” I bury my face in my hands. “I can't believe it. Even if he loved them, it doesn't matter because he had no clue who they were from!”

“It's okay, Roo.”

“It's not okay! I keep messing things up.” At this rate, I'll never get another shot at being on the show.

“Just try again tomorrow,” Dad says.

He's right. Tomorrow I'll go back over with a new batch of pastries, signed this time. But what if it's not enough? Once the Montelle-Brennan wedding is over, Chip Ackerson will be gone again. If I'm really going to make this happen, I need to do whatever it takes to convince Chip to give me another chance.