Chapter 32
Thirty-Two
I’m coming!
Group text message including Suzy Jeong, Callie Carter, and Zeke Harris.
I start up a group chat that includes Zeke and Suzy and text that I’m on my way.
I head down the stairs from my room and grab my car keys.
Mom isn’t in the living room or the kitchen.
If I had to guess, I’d say she’s in her workout studio burning off some frustration. I don’t ask permission; I just leave.
I hurry to Suzy’s as fast as I can while still being careful driving in the drizzling rain.
I park in Suzy’s driveway and sprint up the walkway, and I notice Zeke’s Oldsmobile already parked on the street. I pound on Suzy’s door, and it opens almost immediately. The sharp smell of kimchi and fried rice meets my nose, a pungent mix that makes my mouth water.
Was it really only today that I helped out with the fundraiser? It feels like forever ago.
“Hurry, hurry!” Suzy grabs my arm and pulls me inside. “It’s happening!”
We dash up the stairs to her room, waving to her parents who sit on the couch in the living room with a bowl of popcorn between them and a K-drama playing on the TV.
I recognize the characters from the show—a drama that Suzy and I watched together last year.
I sobbed at the end while she shrugged her shoulders and used the remote to flick on the next one.
Suzy pushes open the door to her room, and I hurry to follow after her.
Suzy’s bed is unmade, and her Homecoming dress—a gorgeous floor-length, ice blue gown—is draped across her desk chair.
Mr. Mochi is lying on her side in the fluffy hay that lines the bottom of her cage, her pregnant stomach distended.
Zeke is on his knees on the carpet, watching intently.
He looks up when we enter the room. “Is she going to be okay?”
“I think so.” Suzy frowns.
Suzy and I sit on the bed, and Zeke gets off the floor to join us. We stare at the guinea pig wheezing in her cage. Not much we can do, I guess.
“Callie, are you all right?” Zeke turns to me, his large brown eyes wide with concern. His thoughtfulness makes my eyes sting, and I hurry to blink the tears away.
“I’m okay,” I say.
Mr. Mochi lets out a tiny guinea pig groan.
“C’mon, girl,” Suzy says. “You can do it.”
Zeke reaches for something on Suzy’s desk that I didn’t notice before. “I doubt you got to eat dinner yet, so I brought you a plate.” Zeke holds out a plate of lasagna and salad to me, a fork ready to go.
The tears well up again. “Thank you,” I manage to choke out. I take the plate and busy myself stuffing my face with the gooiest, cheesiest lasagna I’ve ever eaten. I moan even louder than Mr. Mochi.
“Good?” Zeke asks.
“Soooo good,” I groan around a mouthful of noodles. “Tell your mom I love her.”
“I think it’s happening!” Suzy says.
I turn away because I don’t want to watch the actual event, especially not while I’m eating.
“Mr. Mochi!” Suzy cries. “You did it!”
I turn back to see Suzy on her knees next to Mr. Mochi’s cage. Two tiny, wet babies are laying in the hay next to their exhausted mama. My heart melts.
“They’re like big, furry jelly beans,” I say.
“So cute!” Zeke says. “Mia is going to freak.”
That’s right. “I forgot Mia wanted one. Is your mom okay with it?”
Zeke grins. “She finally relented. Who can say no to Mia?”
I smile back and set my empty plate on the floor by my feet. My stomach is full and my heart has healed, just a little. “No one.”
Suzy picks up one of the babies and cleans it off with a soft cloth. It has brown and white patches like its mama. The other baby is mahogany brown with small white specks. “They’re so beautiful.” Suzy cuddles the little guinea pig close to her chest. “Which one do you think Mia would like?”
“Don’t you want to choose which one you want to keep?”
Suzy looks at the two babies. “No. I think Mia should choose. But I’ll have to check and see when guinea pigs can be separated from their mom.”
“Looking it up right now,” I say, pulling out my phone. My belly is so happy I want to fall back on the bed in a food coma.
And there’s this voice in my head saying that I ate too much, and I’m going to regret it later when I hop on the scale. But it’s just one meal . . . it can’t hurt me that much, right?
I focus on my search. “Looks like Mia can get her baby guinea pig in a month.”
Zeke grins. “She’ll be thrilled.”
Suzy looks up at Zeke. “You’ll help her take care of it, right?”
“Of course.”
I bend down next to Suzy on the floor and pick up the other tiny guinea pig and wrap it in another soft cloth. I bring it close to my face and feel the damp fur against my cheek. “They’re so little and perfect.”
“Good job, Mr. Mochi.” Suzy strokes her guinea pig’s fur, and I swear I hear a little happy squeak. “You did it, girl.”
Suzy and I perch on stools around the kitchen island, sipping cups of steaming jasmine tea with honey.
Zeke has gone home to tell Mia the exciting news and to show her a picture of the two piggies so she can choose.
The dishes are piled high in the sink and pots with crusty bits of rice are on the stove.
Suzy’s parents keep the restaurant immaculate, but no one wants to clean up when they get home. I don’t blame them.
“Mr. Mochi did good.” I take a sip of tea.
Suzy smiles. “Yeah. And they’re SO CUTE.”
“Have you picked out a name for yours?”
“I’ll wait until Mia chooses hers so I know which one will be mine,” Suzy says.
I hop off the stool. “Want to help me practice royal icing?”
“Let’s do it.” Suzy joins me, putting on her Wonder Woman to-do-list-loving face. “We are going to get those votes!”
I give Suzy a high-five that turns into a hug.
“Don’t count us out yet, Cal,” Suzy says, her arms tight around me. Suzy doesn’t hug very often, so it means a lot. “We can still win this.”
We spend the next hour baking sugar cookies and practicing with the royal icing.
Even though I’ll never be a pro or do intricate designs like Brielle’s mom, by the end of the hour I feel more confident that at least the cookies won’t look horrible.
We work on designing cute cookies that we can hand out at school, and Mrs. Jeong (or Omma-nim, as she requested I call her) even has a good gluten-free sugar cookie recipe we can have on hand for those who need it.
My stomach bubbles with the joy of baking, and for a while I forget about everything—the pressure to win, the need to stay on top, the humiliation that will come if I fail.
I’m just a girl in the kitchen with my best friend, baking and laughing and tossing failed bits of cookie into each other’s mouths.