Emma: Lights! Camera! Cupcakes! (8 page)

The next morning I had an e-mail from Mona. “Call me, darling. I have a brilliant idea!”

I could hardly resist from calling, but it was only six thirty, so it would have to wait until at least lunchtime.

At our lockers that morning, Katie told me she had all the supplies for the premiere samples and we should meet at the bike rack after school to go to Alexis's house for our baking session. She was so excited and happy and nice about it. My tongue hurt where I had to bite it, so I wouldn't tell her about my evening at Romaine Ford's house. It was eating me up inside to keep all this incredible news a secret from my best friends. I felt like a traitor—like someone I didn't even know. How could I be doing this?

At lunch I snuck into the girls' bathroom and managed a call to Mona.

“Emma, darling! Why do you sound like you're calling me from the train station?”

I laughed. “I'm in the bathroom at school!”

“Then I'll make this quick. Tell your friends I need ten dozen cupcakes for an event Saturday morning. We can route the billing through me—everything. Just follow the specifications Romaine
gave to you, and you can even deliver them here if you'd like, early though, because we'll be leaving by eight thirty to go to the Fords'.”

“Oh, Mona!” I breathed a huge sigh of relief. “That is a perfect idea.”

“I realize you still can't tell your friends the complete truth, but this is better than nothing, yes?”

“Yes! Thank you! I've got to run. I'll talk to you soon!”

I was flooded with relief at the idea of sharing this new cover story with the Cupcakers. Now they could help me and I wouldn't have to do it all alone or risk coming up with some dumb lie.

I left the stall and who was standing there but Olivia Allen, slowly washing her hands and looking at me in the mirror.

“Good news?” she asked finally.

Frantically, I replayed my end of the conversation in my mind. Had I given anything away? I didn't think so. Oh boy. I decided I'd better wash my hands too, which I did quickly and without making any more eye contact with Olivia.

But still, as I left, Olivia said, “Good luck,” (not that nicely, by the way) and began applying clear lip gloss. The whole encounter left me rattled.

And yet again I found myself at lunch with
big news to deliver to the Cupcake Club.

“Ready?” I began.

“Oh boy,” joked Mia. “What's next? Romaine Ford's wedding cake?”

“Ha-ha.” I laughed weakly. OMG.
How did she guess that right off the bat?
“No, just a big job from Mona. Very exciting. Great exposure,” I added meaningfully as I looked at Alexis. She nodded like an executive waiting at a boardroom table for the underling to begin her presentation, which is what I felt like.

“So what is it?” asked Katie excitedly.

I plastered a smile on my face. “Instead of her usual order of mini cupcakes, Mona needs ten dozen regular cupcakes Saturday morning for a huge bridal event she's having. Easy, breezy: white cake, pastel frosting, a few with mild flavorings, like lemon or raspberry. Great, right?”

But everyone just stared at me blankly.

Finally, Alexis said, “Well, you explained we can't do it, right? And why, of course?”

“Why did Mona wait until the eleventh hour to ask us this?” asked Katie in confusion. “She's usually so organized.”

“Uh . . . I,” I said. “I think it was kind of a spontaneous thing. . . . It just . . . came together.”

“Ten dozen cupcakes doesn't sound spontaneous!” said Mia. “Do you think we might have been her backup? Like someone else fell through?”

I turned back to Alexis. “Wait, what do you mean we can't do it?” I said.

“There's no way we can get all that work done—not if we want fresh cupcakes . . .,” said Alexis.

“Or pretty ones!” added Katie

“I'm sure we could charge whatever we need to, uh, get the job done?” I asked.

“That's not the point,” said Alexis slowly. “We still have to go to school on Friday. There's just not enough hours in the day.”

“But Mona's our best client!” I protested. Now I was starting to feel panicky. If the Cupcake Club didn't agree to do this baking with me, I was back to doing it all alone—and in defiance of the club's decision to decline the job!

“I know, but she's not really playing by the rules,” said Alexis, cool as a cucumber. I wanted to throttle her right then, even if she is my best friend.

“Listen, I have a good relationship with Mona, and I don't want to ruin it. We were going to have to do her minis for this week, anyway. This is just a slightly larger order. What if . . . what if I come up with a plan, a larger workforce, to help us get this
done? Would you agree to that? We could do it at my house.”

The other three looked at one another and shrugged.

“I guess?” said Mia. “How many people could you possibly pull in?”

“And when?” asked Alexis.

“Just trust me. Let me see what I can organize tonight,” I said grimly.

“We'll still meet up for the after-school baking session today in the meantime,” said Katie.

“Right,” we all agreed, and we headed our separate ways to class.

At Alexis's house, no one made mention of the cupcakes for Mona. It was like they definitely weren't happening unless I figured out a way to make everything work. It made me really mad. After all, here I was, dropping this movie premiere job in everyone's lap . . . I was the one who got us this job, after all, and it was a concession, anyway! We wouldn't even be doing it if I hadn't agreed to bake the wedding cupcakes! They had the chance to bake the wedding cupcakes themselves, and they were too stubborn or lazy to do it. Granted, they didn't know what they were turning down, but
why should I have to tell them? Mona was our best and more regular client. If there was anyone we should be doing a favor for, it was her!

I mostly stayed silent as Katie demonstrated how to twist and pull the mini marshmallows together to form lumpy-looking popcorn. Mia, meanwhile, sprayed the lumps with the yellow food coloring, and Alexis was trimming the striped popcorn bag papers. None of it was that hard; it was just time-consuming. And the truth was, it didn't look as amazing as it had in the photos. I didn't dare say anything, but I wondered if the others were thinking it too.

After about an hour of work had only produced a stack of around fifteen papers and ten lumps of “popcorn,” I said, “Are we sure we want to do this design? It seems slow going.”

Everyone turned to look at me.

“Well, we're doing the prep now. We'll have time. We can store the marshmallows in Tupperware and just assemble the cupcakes on Friday afternoon,” said Katie.

“When are we baking them?” I asked.

“It will have to be tomorrow, after school,” she replied.

Alexis smacked her forehead. “I need to do a
run to the bake shop and get some more bulk sugar and flour tonight. Oh, I hope my mom can take me.”

“Make sure you get enough for . . .” I almost said “Romaine's cupcakes.” I caught myself in time. “Mona's . . .”

Alexis sighed. “I don't know if we're even doing those, and you know I don't like to carry such a big inventory of dry goods; they get stale so fast. We just don't need that much flour sitting around if we're not sure we're doing the job, you know?” She looked at me kind of defiantly.

“We're doing it,” I said firmly.

The others exchanged uneasy looks.

“Look, Em, why don't you walk us through the timeline? How do you could see us doing this?” Alexis asked.

I took a deep breath. “Okay, we do the popcorn and paper trimming tonight. As much as we can, I guess. Then tomorrow night we bake; at my house would be easiest, since we'll keep everything in one place for assembly and delivery. Friday afternoon we assemble the popcorn cupcakes and start to bake . . . Mona's cupcakes. Friday night after the premiere we finish baking Mona's cupcakes. Then Saturday morning we frost and deliver.”

“And we deliver to the premiere when?” asked Alexis.

“Six o'clock on Friday.”

“And when do we make the pastel-colored frostings?” asked Katie, her face scrunched up. At least she looked like she was trying to make it work rather than catch me in some harebrained scheme, which was what Alexis was doing.

“Look, I'm not an idiot! We've been in tight spots before. We can do this. We won't have a lot of time to hang around the premiere. We'll need to get home to keep working but . . .” I caught the girls exchanging uneasy looks. “Wait . . .,” I said. “Is this all because you want to go to the premiere? Seriously? We're not even invited!”

Mia burst in, wailing, “I know! But we want to at least look great and watch all the stars file in!”

“It's such an opportunity! We could bring our cameras! Get autographs!” agreed Katie.

I looked at Alexis. She shrugged and looked away, like she was embarrassed to admit it. “Guys,” I said. “We're going to the premiere as professionals. Sure, we can linger for a little bit and see who's there, but we've got to get back to work. Come on. Alexis, you of all people should understand!”

“But Trent Channing will be there!” she cried.

“OMG,” I said, and I put my head in my hands and shook it from side to side. I can't compete with Trent Channing. But maybe there was someone who could. . . .

M
att, I am not kidding. I will literally
pay
you. I will do
anything
! I'll give you whatever you want! Seriously! Please!”

Matt was looking at me with a glint in his eye as his feet rested on my desk. He was tipped back in my chair, with his hands locked behind his head, and as he surveyed my room, I knew what was coming next.

“This,” he said finally.

“Oh, Matt.”

I'm the only one with a good bedroom. Matt and Sam share, and it drives them both crazy. (Sam is a slob and Matt is neat. Or maybe it's the other way around. I can never tell. It always looks gross in there to me.) Jake sleeps in a former tiny closet that
my mom keeps saying is going to stunt his growth. Since I'm the only girl, I have a glorious bedroom redone by my mom and me, and everyone in the house wants it.

“What? You said anything!” He thunked the chair legs back down to the floor and stood up to leave. “I guess you weren't serious!”

“Okay! Okay! Fine. You can move in here. I'll take . . . Jake's room, and Jake can move in with Sam. But you can't change anything. I want the opportunity to win it back within six months, okay? Deal?” I put out my hand, and Matt stared down at it for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, he reached out and shook it.

“Deal,” he said.

“But you have to also bring George Martinez and at least one other cute friend. Not some weirdo loser. Got it?”

“Fine,” he said, but he clearly wasn't listening. He wandered off. “I've got to go get my tape measure. You're welcome!” he called over his shoulder.

I looked around my room and shuddered. What had I just done?

I booted up my computer. Then I began pecking out an e-mail. It said:

Hey, Olivia—

In case you change your mind about helping with the cupcakes for the premiere, we are going to deliver them ourselves and stay to watch the celebs file in. We should have a good spot to watch them. You can help make the cupcakes with us after school on Friday, but the only catch is, we need you to come back and help with another huge order after the premiere. We'll give you your share of the profits. In?

Emma

Then I winced and pushed send. Now it was time to e-mail the others.

Hey—

Matt, George Martinez, and one other hottie, plus maybe Olivia Allen (sorry, but she offered) are coming to help on Friday. Now can we say yes? Let me know, please, so Mona doesn't have to wait. Thanks.