Chapter 13
Thirteen
Callie Carter is hanging out with him?! Seriously?! Why didn’t she invite me to sit at her table?
Text message from Tom Sheppard to Yuanyun Li.
I lay the dress on my bed and admire it, smoothing out a wrinkle in the deep blue fabric. It’s perfect. If only I wasn’t going to Homecoming with my best friend instead of . . . not Noah . . . but maybe a boy I liked.
I hang up the dress in its crinkly clear casing in my closet and give it one more pat.
“This is it,” I say. “This is the year I beat Brielle.” Butter barks from the floor behind me. She agrees. But actually, it’s more likely that she needs to go on a walk.
“C’mon, girl,” I say. I head down the stairs, leash in hand, Butter waddling close behind. My phone vibrates, and I check it. I’m getting a call from Zeke.
“Who calls on the phone anymore?” I answer.
“Me. I call on the phone.”
“Nerd,” I say.
Zeke laughs. “We’ve already established that.”
“You and Nicole seemed to hit it off today.” I grab my hot pink rain jacket since it’s drizzly out and clip the leash to Butter’s collar.
“Yeah, she’s cool.”
It’s nice to hear Zeke’s voice. Mom is gone, probably training someone or teaching a class, and my house is quiet minus Butter’s snuffles. I can never imagine this kind of quiet happening at Zeke’s house.
“Things went well,” I say. “No one suspects that we’re faking it.”
“Yep,” Zeke says. “Anyway, want to plan what we’re going to see around Seattle? I don’t have much time here.” Zeke’s voice turns solemn. “Just until the end of the semester, remember?”
“I remember.” Butter and I head out the door, and my nose is hit by wet, misty smells of fresh rain.
Our lawn is brilliant green, still lush, even though some of the trees in the neighborhood are starting to turn sunset orange and blushing red.
I take a deep breath, feeling invigorated.
Butter pulls on the leash and heads to her favorite spot to pee, right on the neighbor’s bush.
“I want to see everything,” Zeke says. “I want someplace to feel like home.”
I pause, keeping an eye on Butter while she finishes her business. “But won’t it make it that much harder to leave?” I’m not trying to push back, I’m just genuinely curious.
“Probably. But at least I’ll have felt like I really experienced it before we move somewhere new, and I have to start all over.”
“Sure. That makes sense. You want to make our plan in person?”
I don’t know what’s going through Zeke’s head, but this easy way of talking to each other, of chatting on the phone, feels suspiciously like friendship. But I won’t say anything. I won’t be the one who makes it hard for him to leave.
“All right,” Zeke says. “Let’s make our plan in person.”
I get out of the car and hurry up Zeke’s driveway, a light drizzle misting my hair.
I press the doorbell, and the door is opened almost immediately.
I open my mouth to say hi to Zeke, but then I look down.
Mia is wearing a purple tutu and a headband with a pink, swirling unicorn horn rising off of the top, partially taming her wild curls.
“I don’t like eating fuzzy things,” she says with a solemn expression. “If you eat them then you throw up.”
“Umm . . .” I say. “Can I come in?”
Mia steps aside.
“Mia, there you are!” Caroline bustles around the corner. “What did I tell you about answering the door by yourself?” She scoops Mia up into a hug and plasters her little round face with kisses. Mia squeals.
Caroline turns her warm smile to me. Her belted coffee-colored cardigan hangs over a fitted white top and jeans. “Welcome, Callie. Zeke didn’t tell us you were coming over.”
“Is that okay?”
“Of course!” Caroline beams.
“I love your outfit, by the way,” I say. “You have to tell me where you got that cardigan.”
Caroline’s smile brightens even more. “You know, I’ve had this for so long I can’t even remember. I think I bought it when we lived in Georgia?”
I step inside and hang up my rain coat and take off my shoes. “Mia sure is . . . cute.”
Mia stares at me with huge brown eyes.
“Do I smell cookies?” I smell something, that’s for sure.
“Attempt number five. Do they smell good?” Caroline gives me a hopeful look.
“Yeah.” It’s partially true. I smell chocolate, but something is off.
“I tried a new recipe, double chocolate,” she says.
“But it’s hard to tell when they’re done because of the cocoa powder.
They’re so dark.” Caroline closes the door behind me and ushers me into the kitchen.
Trays of cookies fill the counter space, the cookie colors ranging from charcoal black to dark brown.
Caroline sets Mia down, and the little girl rushes across the kitchen to open a drawer at her level. Mia pulls out squishy balls of play dough and takes them to the table, where she starts pounding and molding.
“Well,” I say. “You could take them off the trays now. To let them get cool underneath. Otherwise the bottoms will steam. But you don’t want to take them off right out of the oven; they’ll be too hot and squishy.” I examine one of the trays. “These ones look great. I think they’re your best.”
Caroline beams. “I had a feeling you would know what you were talking about.”
I flush, remembering the bake sale thing she’s prepping for and how she tried to rope me into helping. “Oh, no. Not really. I like to watch the food network.”
“So do I! Do you have a favorite chef?”
I open my mouth, but before I can say, “Alex Guarnaschelli,” Zeke ambles into the kitchen and takes a cookie off of the least burnt tray.
“Callie! You’re here!” He chews and swallows. “I’m so sorry. I was finishing up a boss battle in Zelda: Breath of the Wild.”
“What’s that?” I say at the same time Caroline says, “How are they?” She gives her son an imploring look.
He polishes off the cookie and gives his mom two thumbs up. “They’re great, Mama!”
She smiles but throws a rag at him. It bounces off his chest and lands on the countertop. “You say that about everything. I can’t trust your opinion.”
Mia rushes over to Zeke to show him the misshapen blob she’s created, and he beams and praises her artistic skills.
My heart squeezes, and I don’t know why.
“Try one, will you, Callie?” Caroline says.
“Oh, no. I—I can’t.” I don’t want to hurt her feelings, but I can NOT gain weight. Not before Homecoming. I have to fit into that dress.
Caroline’s face falls.
“Okay,” I say. “Just one.” I pick up a double chocolate cookie and take a bite.
Chocolate melts in my mouth and the taste mostly covers up the burned edges.
“It’s really good,” I say after swallowing.
“The texture is perfect—chewy but still soft. Not cakey at all, so you had the ratio of butter to flour spot on. I think if you baked them for a minute or two less they’d be perfect. ”
She smiles from ear to ear. “I’ll take that.”
Before I think better of it I say, “A few months ago I made cookies like these. They were double chocolate, and I put a Rolo in them before baking, and then when they came out of the oven the caramel was all warm and gooey. It was heaven. Especially with sea salt on top.” I close my eyes.
I only kept myself from devouring the whole batch by giving them to our neighbors.
Mom got mad at me for torturing her with delicious smells.
Caramel is her favorite flavor, and, I’m sorry, but caramel flavored protein shakes just don’t cut it.
Now I wonder if those cookies were part of what led up to Mom throwing away my baking stuff and banning me from doing it forever. Maybe it wasn’t as spur-of-the-moment as I thought.
I open my eyes, and Zeke and Caroline are staring at me. Mia makes grunting noises as she beats her play dough into submission at the table.
“What?” I say.
Caroline gives me a knowing smile. “Those cookies sound fabulous.”
I blush. I shouldn’t have said anything. But Caroline doesn’t push the fundraiser thing again, which is a relief. I hate saying no to people.
I turn to Mia to escape my discomfort. “That looks really cool, Mia. Is it a . . . dog?”
Mia swivels her head to me and glares with her deep brown eyes. “It’s a zombie. I’m practicing smashing them for the apolocalypsie.”
Zeke purses his lips together, hiding a laugh. “It’s apocalypse, Mia. Remember?”
Caroline puts her hands on her hips. “So it was you?”
“C’mon, Callie,” Zeke takes my hand and pulls me toward his room. His fingers are warm in mine. “Let’s make our plan.”