Chapter 3 #2
I finally let the tears fall and let my best friend hold me. “The hardest part is that I do want to see him again. I really, really liked him, Suze.”
Suzy pulls away, and her black eyes bore into mine. “I know you did. But you are strong. You are going to get through this, okay? You will find someone else who makes you just as happy. Happier.”
I nod, even though I don’t believe her. I stare at my feet. “And my new boots got barf all over them.”
“Oh, girl. C’mere.” Suzy pulls me in for another hug, and I toss aside my pillow so she can hug me for real. I cry on her shoulder, finally releasing all the tension of the day.
The timer rings, and I pull away to wipe my eyes. I cross the dining room to the kitchen, and Suzy follows. I grab a thin spatula from a drawer and use it to move the cookies from the tray to a wire cooling rack. Suzy moves to grab one.
“Wait.” I sniffle and pull out from the spice cabinet my jar of flaky sea salt. I sprinkle a pinch on top of each cookie. Perfect.
I nod, and Suzy picks up a cookie, takes a bite, and closes her eyes. Her favorite Korean swear word escapes her mouth.
I sit next to Suzy and take a bite of cookie, letting the salty-sweet caramel notes and dark chocolate wash away all my worries just for a moment. “Mmmm.”
“OhmygoshIlovethesesomuch,” Suzy says. She grabs another cookie.
“People are never going to let me forget about today,” I say. “I don’t even want to go to school tomorrow.”
Suzy’s eyes soften with pity. A blob of chocolate graces the corner of her upper lip. “They’ll find something else to talk about, especially with Homecoming coming up. Pretty soon all the gossip will be about who’s running, who’s going to win the crown, la la la.”
“I hope you’re right.”
I hear a thud and turn to see Butter hopping down the stairs. She waddles to the kitchen, tongue lolling, huge eyes begging.
“Hi, sweet girl.” I eat my last bite of cookie before getting down to rub her soft head. “Did you have a good sleep?”
Suzy polishes off her second cookie and takes another. “I still can’t believe that Noah broke up with you for Brielle.”
The hurt punches me in the stomach again. “I know.” Butter licks my cheek, probably smelling cookie dough. “I’ll give you a treat later, okay?” I whisper.
“Why does it smell like dessert?” My mom’s voice. I stand.
Mom walks into the kitchen, wearing black workout leggings that show off her toned legs—her quads are practically a shelf—and a bright orange top that says, “Be stronger than your excuses.” Her mouth is a thin line.
“Hey, Suzy.” Mom gives Suzy a side hug. “How are you?”
“Great, Mrs. Carter.” Suzy polishes off her third cookie.
Mom turns to me, and her frown deepens. “Callie, did you bake these?”
I pause. “Yes.”
Mom frowns.
“You NEED to try them, Mrs. C,” Suzy says. “Callie has a gift. I’ve never tasted cookies as good as hers.”
“No thank you, Suzy.” Mom practically chokes on the words. She sighs. “Callie, you know how I feel about this. This baking habit of yours needs to stop. When my clients come over for a personal training and smell brownies baking, what are they going to think? It’s torture, for them and for me.”
My heart sinks into the floor, and the stupid tears that have been popping up all day rise to my eyes again. I blink rapidly. Not in front of Mom. “But Mom—I . . . I had a horrible day. And baking helps me feel better. I—I love it, and—”
I don’t get to finish, to say what I want to say. I want to keep doing this. Maybe even make it my career.
Suzy gets down off the barstool to rub Butter’s belly, giving me and Mom some space.
Mom crosses her arms. “Life is hard, Cal. You can’t bake your feelings away. You look great now, but that can change so fast. You think you had a bad day? Wait until bullies are hounding you about your looks, teasing you to the point where you come home every day crying. Do you want that?”
I look down and shake my head. “No.”
“You know what I went through as a teenager. I will not have my daughter experience that. I won’t. So you can eat one cookie, and then throw the rest in the trash. Got it?”
I hesitate. I look into Mom’s hazel eyes, now leaning towards brown in the soft kitchen light. Her eyebrows are turned down in anger. “Okay, Mom.” My voice comes out small.
Mom doesn’t notice my expression. She crosses the kitchen to the pantry and yanks open the door.
“Mom?” I ask, my stomach tightening.
“These ingredients do not belong in our house.” Mom emerges from the pantry, her face angry, holding my precious Ghirardelli chocolate chips and bags of white flour and sugar. “I don’t know where you keep getting this stuff, but it’s got to stop.”
“Mom, don’t—”
But it’s too late. The cupboard door that hides the garbage can closes with a thud.
My knees feel weak, my stomach one churning mess. I blink, horrified. It’s just flour, sugar, and chocolate. No big deal . . .
Mom’s expression softens, and she reaches out to brush my curtain bangs behind my ear. “I know this is harsh, but it’s because I love you, sweetheart.” She takes a deep breath. “Have you started planning how you’re going to campaign for Homecoming Queen?”
Suzy glances up.
I swallow and take a step back, clutching my arms to my middle like they can keep me from falling apart.
I can’t believe she did that. “Mom, I spent my own money on those ingredients. How could you just . . . throw them away?” My anger bleeds into my voice, but I’m beyond caring. “I love this, and you don’t even care!”
Mom sighs and rubs her fingers against her temple. “Callie, one day you’ll thank me, I promise. Now, about your campaign?”
I grit my teeth together and try to shove down my irritation. “I’m not sure if I want to run this year. It’s so much work.”
Mom gives me a hard look. “Just because something is a lot of work doesn’t mean it’s not worth it.”
“I know.” I clamp my teeth together to keep a stronger retort from coming out.
If I told her that I was hurting from the breakup, overwhelmed by the gossip about me that’s already going around school, not to mention stressed by my load of homework, she’d just say one of her favorite motivational phrases.
“I proved everyone wrong in my high school days.” Mom smiles, eyes shining. “Despite the bullying, I won that crown, and I earned their respect.”
“Who’s a good doggy?” Suzy says under her breath, patting Butter’s belly. Her stubby tail waggles back and forth.
Mom heads toward the fridge but looks over her shoulder. “And if you do run and win, I’ll be there to watch you get the crown. I’ve already signed up to be a chaperone for the dance this year.”
Oh bleh. I want to put a hand over my face, but I make myself be still. “Umm. Thanks, Mom.”
She beams and grabs a strawberry banana protein shake out of the fridge.
Mom starts down the hallway back to her workout studio, but then she pauses and looks back.
“Just don’t lose focus, okay? Last year your grades almost got you kicked off the cheer team.
Think of how people would talk if that happened!
” Mom heads to her workout studio, probably to do a four-minute plank.
“Gahhhhh!” I stare at my tray of cookies and let out a long sigh. The cookies are not too thin, not too thick, crispy around the edges and gooey in the middle. Perfection. “Why is she like this?” I whisper. My eyes burn.
Suzy stands, and her enormous black eyes appraise me. “Your mom is intense.”
Butter sniffs at my feet, hoping for a cookie crumb. I only nod, feeling miserable. What a rotten day.
Suzy heads toward the sink and opens the cupboard door that hides the trash can.
“Suzy?”
She reaches into the can.
“Suzy!”
She pulls out my bag of chocolate chips, only half covered in something red that might be ketchup, and the bag of flour, which is mostly untouched.
“Suzy, gross!” I exclaim, but my heart warms. “Don’t do that. Eww. Put them back.”
“They’re still usable. I can fix this.”
I shake my head. “Please don’t.”
Suzy sighs and drops the stuff back into the trash and closes the cupboard. “Fine. You’re right. That was nasty.” She washes her hands and sits next to me at the counter again. “You can bake at my house?”
“Thanks.” I dab my fingers underneath my eyes, trying to get rid of the moisture without smudging my mascara.
Suzy takes a cookie and rolls it, edge down, across the counter, back and forth, her manicured fingernails playing with the treat. “What happened when your mom was a teenager?”
“She was bullied pretty hardcore by some mean girls in her school. According to her, she was chubby back then.”
“No way,” Suzy says. “Your mom?”
“She wasn’t always a fitness junkie.” I stand and pick up the rack of cookies.
“The name-calling and cruelty actually drove her to an eating disorder. It took years of therapy before she overcame it.” And honestly, I don’t know if she did, I don’t add.
Oh, she doesn’t starve herself anymore. Her body image obsession has turned into something else.
I move toward the trash.
“Wow. That’s—that’s so sad.” Suzy leaps off the barstool. “Don’t throw those away!”
I pause with the cooling rack poised over the trash can. “But my mom said—”
“I’ll take them home.” Suzy carefully takes the cooling rack from my hands. “Your mom doesn’t have to know.”
I smile. “I’m glad you like them.” I head to the pantry and grab a paper plate.
Suzy places the cookies back on the counter. “Okay—don’t hate me—what if you did run for Homecoming Queen?”
I take the cookies from the tray, one by one, and put them on the plate. “No.”
“It could be a good way to show Noah what he’s missing,” Suzy says. “And it will definitely pull you out of all this garbagey gossip going around the school. People would see that you’re not bothered by the breakup. You’re a boss.”
I point at Suzy’s lip. “You have a little chocolate right there. Noah’s not going to get back together with me just because I win Homecoming Queen.”
Suzy wipes at her lip then sucks her finger. “That’s not what I’m saying. You don’t want to be with someone who will do that to you. C’mon!”
I nod slowly. “You’re right.” The words don’t feel true, not yet. The hurt is still too fresh.
“But it would show him that he made the wrong choice. Plus . . .” Suzy pauses. “I heard that Brielle is going to run. It sure would feel great to beat her.”
I stare at the marbled counter top. “It would. But I just can’t.
” Our school turns Homecoming Queen into a huge deal.
The participants have to campaign and gather votes just like they’re running for student body president.
It’s outdated and annoying, but the winner each year gets treated like true royalty and is revered by the rest of the school.
I imagine myself for a second with the crown on my head, everyone in the crowd at the Homecoming dance staring at me in awe, my mom finally seeing me for what I’m worth. Noah staring in disbelief. Brielle looking aghast, wondering how anyone could challenge her and come out on top.
“I—I can’t.” I cover the cookies in cling wrap and hand the plate to Suzy.
“Just think about it. They’re not announcing the runners until next week.” Suzy sets the plate on the counter in front of her. “I’m going to run. It could be something fun we do together.”
Butter, deflated at not getting a cookie, waddles away into the living room.
“You are?”
Suzy smiles and nods. “I am. I probably won’t win, but you never know.”
“Suzy, that’s great! I will support you however you need.”
“Thanks.” Suzy gets a fiery look in her black eyes. “Winning would be nice, but honestly, I just want to see Brielle taken down a notch. I don’t care who does it.”
“She has always been so awful to you especially.”
Suzy nods. “Ever since I turned her in for cheating on a test in middle school, she’s had it out for me.”
I follow Suzy into the living room.
“Let’s watch a romcom,” she says. “That will make you feel better.”
We plop down on the couch and turn on How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days. My mood improves somewhat, but I can’t stop my worries from floating through my head.