Frosting and Friendship (14 page)

“Hey,” Bryan says after I open the door. “I know I'm way early, but my dad said it'd be a good idea to come and get everything set up now. I hope it's okay.
I figured you'd be here, getting ready for the party.”

Abigail looks at me. And then back at Bryan. “What's he talking about?”

“I'll tell you in a minute,” I say quickly before I step outside. It's nice today. Sunny and warm, a rare thing in March in Oregon. “Let me punch in the code and open the garage door for you.” I shut the front door and hustle over to the garage. Fortunately, Mom's car is parked in the driveway, and since both Dad and Madison are gone, the garage will be empty.

“You sure the garage is the best place for us?” Bryan asks as I punch in the code that opens the door.

“I'm sure,” I say, hoping he approves of the space.

After the door is up, he stares at the neatly organized shelves along the walls. “Ah. I see. Your dad's a neat freak. It's perfect.”

He motions to his dad, who's in a white van parked in front of our house, to pull into the driveway.

“Well, let me know if you need anything,” I tell him. “I'll be inside, making cake pops.”

He gives me a curious look. “Cake pops? What's that, cake mixed with soda pop or something?”

Oh brother. “Never mind. Just shut the door when you're done, okay?”

I head back toward the house, when he calls out, “Hey, Lily?”

I turn around and face Bryan. “Yeah?”

“I think it's really great you're letting us play when you're probably bummed and wishing your band could play. What's your band's name again?”

“The Dots.”

“Nice. Anyway, I want you to know, we'll make it a fun party. I promise.”

It's a kind thing to say, and I'm glad he's not rubbing it in my face. But right now, with Abigail inside probably fuming about this whole thing, I wish more than anything that we were playing instead. I wave to Bryan and run back inside the house.

“Lily,” Abigail says with her arms crossed over her chest, “please tell me the New Pirates are not playing at this party tonight.”

“I wish I could,” I say softly, “but they are playing.”

She starts to say something else, but I keep going. “Isabel's dad knows Bryan's dad. She asked Bryan about playing at the party before she said anything
to me. She was so excited about them playing, I couldn't say no. I mean, you should have heard her, Abigail. She wouldn't stop talking about the New Pirates and how good-looking Bryan is and how much Sophie will love having them play for her thirteenth birthday.”

“So how long have you known about this?”

“For a while,” I say. “The thing is, I thought we could play too. That way everyone would be happy. Until I found out that bands don't really like other bands to use their instruments.”

Abigail walks past me without another word and into the kitchen. I follow her like a puppy with its tail between its legs. She takes her apron off and stuffs it into her bag, and then she gets the magical egg timer and the lollipops and puts those in the bag too.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“Home.”

“Abigail, wait, please.”

She turns and looks at me. “You should have told us about the New Pirates.”

“You're right. I'm sorry.”

“I feel like I don't know you anymore, Lily. What's happened? Ever since you decided to have this party, it's like you're a different person. I hope you have fun tonight, with your other friends, since them and baking seem to be more important than anything to you.”

And then she's gone. I think about chasing after her, but I can tell it wouldn't do any good. She's too mad right now.

I blink back tears as I slink into the living room and collapse on the couch, thinking about what Abigail said. Have I become a different person? Did I go too far with this party, wanting so badly for it to be the very best it could be for Sophie?

Maybe I did, but that's because I care about her. I care about Abigail and Zola too, though. Don't they know that?

An image of Abigail's face, covered in sadness, pops into my head. Obviously, she didn't know, because I did a terrible job of showing them.

A
fter I let myself pout for a little while, I go upstairs to check on Mom. She's fast asleep, and as much as I want to wake her and tell her what's happened, I know she needs her rest.

I'm on my own.

As I'm heading back to the kitchen to finish making the cake pops, there's a knock at the door.

Hoping it's Abigail, I rush to the door and fling
it open. But it's not Abigail. It's Bryan.

“Oh. Hi,” I say.

He gives me a concerned look. “Hi. Are you okay?”

I try to smile. “Yeah. Fine. Are you all set up?”

“Almost. I forgot an extension cord and wondered if you might have one we could borrow.”

I could be mean and say no and slam the door in his face, after everything that's happened. But I'm not going to do that. It's not his fault that I've messed up so badly with my bandmates. “Sure. Come in. I think my dad has some extras in his studio.”

He steps into the entryway and I point him to the kitchen and tell him he can get a glass of water if he's thirsty, while I go down to the studio.

“I smell chocolate,” he says when I come back. I watch as he surveys the kitchen, which is a mess right now. “Is it those cake pops you were talking about?”

I hand him the cord. “Yeah. They're in the freezer right now. I need to finish them. Abigail was supposed to help me but . . . she left.”

He leans up against the counter. “I saw her leave. She didn't look very happy. Was she mad about something?”

“You could say that.”

“Let me guess,” he says, sweeping the bangs out of his eyes. “She's mad you guys aren't playing tonight?”

I look down at my shoes and nod. It's so embarrassing, talking to him about this.

“I'm sorry,” he says. And the way he says it, I know he means it. “Is there anything I can do? Want me to stay and help you?”

I jerk my head up, surprised by his offer. “Really? You'd do that?”

He shrugs. “Sure. Let me finish in the garage and then I'll tell my dad I'll walk home when we're done.”

After he leaves, I go to work cleaning off the counters and making room for the next part of the process: icing and decorating the pops. The whole time I'm thinking how nice Bryan is to offer to stay and help me. I'm kind of nervous about him seeing me fumble around in the kitchen, but I know the extra set of hands will be worth it.

I get out the double boiler, fill the bottom of the pan with water, and put it on the stove. While I wait for the water to boil, I take the cake pops out of the freezer and put the sticks in them. When Bryan knocks on the door again, I run to let him in and then lead
him to the kitchen and show him what we'll be doing.

After the water boils, I put the white-chocolate candy pieces in the pan that sits on top of the pan of hot water. The heat from the hot water below is what will melt the chocolate.

“Can you stir while I add in the food coloring?” I ask.

He takes the wooden spoon from me and I pick up the little bottle with a red cap. I squirt in a few drops while he stirs. It becomes a pretty pink color.

“So now what?” he asks.

“Now we roll each ball of cake in the melted chocolate and then in some sprinkles. Oh, wait, I need to put the decorations in bowls.”

“Where do we set the cake pops to dry?” he asks, still stirring. “If we lay them down on the counter, one side will be smooshed, you know? I'm guessing smooshed isn't the look you're going for.”

He's right. I remember the lady in the video stuck the cake pops in a piece of Styrofoam so they could stand straight up as they dried. I'm looking around the kitchen as I'm pouring sprinkles into bowls, trying to think of something that would work as well as a
piece of Styrofoam. But I can't think of anything.

“This chocolate is getting pretty hot,” he says. “Should I turn off the heat?”

“Um, I don't think so,” I say, opening a cupboard door full of bowls. “We don't want the chocolate to harden. Maybe turn it down a little bit?”

I'm staring into the cupboard when he says, “What about that thing?”

“What thing?” I ask.

He points at the top shelf. “I don't know what it's called. You put spaghetti noodles in it so the water drains? Here, let me get it.”

He reaches up and takes out the silver colander. By turning it upside down, he's created a dome of holes and I realize it's perfect. “You are a genius, Bryan.”

A smile spreads across his face. “Well, thanks. Pretty sure that's the first time I've heard my name and the word ‘genius' in the same sentence.”

“Come on,” I say. “Help me roll the balls in the chocolate.”

“I'll watch you do it first,” he says. “To make sure I do it right.”

“I've never made them before, so I'm not really
an expert,” I tell him as I pick up a cake pop. “Cross your fingers it works!”

I roll the ball through the melted chocolate and then roll it around in some green sprinkles. When I turn the cake pop upright so I can put it in the colander to cool, the whole ball slides down the stick.

“Oh no,” I say. “What'd I do wrong?”

“Maybe you need to work faster,” he says. He does one and goes through the motions much faster, but this time the cake ball falls apart before he even rolls it in the sprinkles.

I can't believe this is happening. My chest tightens and it takes every ounce of strength I have not to burst into tears in front of him.

“I think the chocolate may be too hot,” he says as he turns the burner off. “Let's keep trying.”

Again and again, the cake balls either fall apart or slide down the stick. I wash my hands before I sink into the kitchen chair, checking the clock on the microwave. It's just after four o'clock. We have less than an hour to pull some amazing dessert out of thin air.

Bryan pops one of the cake balls into his mouth. “They taste pretty good,” he says. I can tell he's
trying to make me feel better, but it's not working.

“I'm such an idiot,” I say, putting my face into my hands. “Why did I think I could pull this off?”

Bryan comes over and sits across from me. “Lily? Are you okay?”

I shake my head.

“Do you have any other food?”

I look up at him. “I made chocolate-chip cookies last night. But this is a birthday party. A surprise birthday party! I should have an amazing dessert for Sophie, and I have . . . nothing.”

With a crooked smile he says, “At least you have an amazing band, right?”

Before I can tell him it's so funny I forgot to laugh, the doorbell rings. I get up and Bryan follows me.

When I open the door, the situation goes from bad to worse.

Isabel, Katie, and Dharsanaa are on my porch. The silver balloons they brought float above them.

“Hi, Lily,” Isabel says, holding a giant shopping bag in one hand and a big bowl of caramel corn in the other. “Are you ready to make Sophie over-the-moon happy with the best surprise party ever?”

I
stand there with my mouth open, unable to speak.

“I know we're early,” Isabel says, “but I wanted to make sure we had plenty of time to get things ready. Oh, and I hope it's okay that I brought a couple of helpers along. And some homemade caramel corn.”

I think I might be sick. And not because of the
caramel corn, which I love. Somehow I manage to say, “Yeah, it's fine.”

We stand there a few seconds, looking at each other, and it feels like my heart is going to pop right out of my chest, it's beating so hard. All I can think is,
What am I going to do? What am I going to do?