Emma's Not-So-Sweet Dilemma (12 page)

“I was more of an animal person. I think I used to get pumped for Beanie Babies, all those little kitties and puppies and stuff,” I offered.

“I liked the Bratz, of course,” said Mia.

“Of course!” We all laughed again. Even though we didn't know her way back when, we could be sure Mia had always been into fashion.

“What are you guys asking for this year?” asked Olivia.

Everyone mentioned a thing or two, but we agreed there was nothing anyone really wanted. “I'm doing a lot of homemade gifts this year,” I said.

“That's such a good idea!” said Olivia. “Maybe I'll do that. I've still got a week.”

I couldn't believe this was the same Olivia Allen I'd wanted to punch in the nose only a few days earlier. It's amazing what the holiday spirit will do to people—to her and to me, of course.

“Well, I think we'd better get going,” I said, standing up. “Olivia, this was one of the best parties I've ever been to in my life. And I'm not just saying that. Thank you so much.”

“Thank you all for coming,” she said. “This really . . . meant a lot to me. It's the best present I could have gotten this year,” she added shyly.

We thanked her parents and got our coats, and
Olivia walked us to the door and hugged everyone good-bye. None of us said anything, but I knew we were feeling guilty. My dad was picking us up so that everyone could come sleep over at my house and exchange gifts. I toyed with the idea of spontaneously inviting Olivia, but I knew it would be awkward since no one had a gift for her. We could be friends with her, but she wasn't a member of the Cupcake Club. At least not for the foreseeable future.

Back at my house, my brothers were all there, and some of their friends too, and it turned out to be kind of a rowdy and fun end of the night. We played Ping-Pong in the basement, and mini-hockey on the rug in the TV room, and then we watched
A Christmas Story
on TV and had popcorn. I suddenly had the idea that Alexis could help Matt with his website as a holiday gift, and she thought that was brilliant. She vowed to go home and create a gift certificate to present to him this week. Later, the Cupcakers and I trudged upstairs to my room to lay out the sleeping bags and exchange our gifts.

Mia went first. She'd designed stretchy headbands for all of us, and her mom's friend had run them up on a sewing machine. They were so perfect. Alexis's was navy blue velvet with seed pearls,
and it looked so pretty against her red hair. Katie's was purple with multicolored sequins sewn on, and mine was white satin with a lace overlay to wear at Mona's for my next job. It was so thoughtful.

Katie had loomed each of us an elaborate-colored rubber band bracelet. Mine was an elaborate rainbow heart, and I couldn't imagine how long it had taken her to make it. Alexis's was a star pattern, and Mia's was a square pattern, chunky, like something a model would wear. They all looked awesome and so stylish.

Alexis went next and she handed around date books for each of us. She'd covered them with pretty contact paper in different patterns for each of us, and then she'd filled in important dates inside that corresponded to our interests. Katie's had NYC Restaurant Week blocked out and her favorite chefs' birthdays marked with big stars. Mia's had Fashion Week blocked out, as well as the Oscars and a bunch of her favorite fashion designers' birthdays highlighted. Mine had listings of my favorite composers' birthdays, as well as having the New York Philharmonic's main concert dates penciled in. It was so thoughtful.

And, finally, it was my turn.

I stood and cleared my throat.

“Uh-oh!” joked Mia.

“A speech!” said Alexis.

“No, it's a poem!” Katie laughed.

“Actually,” I said, fake-glaring at them, “I have composed a song for you. It has Alexis's logic and organization, Mia's passion and drama, and Katie's beauty and comfort. I'll play it now and then make a recording to send to you by e-mail.”

I opened my flute case, so I didn't have to meet anyone's eye. I hoped they weren't laughing at me. I'd worked so hard on it, but part of me thought it might be a lame gift, or a cop-out, now that it was actually time to perform it. But it was all that I had. Just a part of me to give to them.

I cleared my throat, licked my lips, and raised the flute to my mouth. Then I closed my eyes and began to play. It seemed to last forever, but when it was over, I was scared to open my eyes. There was a dead silence, and finally, I opened my eyes and looked at my friends.

They were all crying.

I started to laugh and cry at the same time. “Did you like it?”

Mia laughed and wiped at her eyes. “Like it? Silly, we
loved
it!”

They grabbed me and pulled me into a big group hug.

“That's the best present I've even gotten, and I am not kidding. Even better than my Felicity doll from American Girl!” said Katie, and we all laughed.

“Well, it wasn't better than an Easy-Bake oven, but it was pretty close,” joked Alexis. “It was just beautiful.”

They squeezed me tightly, and I knew that nothing was more beautiful than friendship. Especially during the holidays.

W
ant another sweet cupcake?

Here's a sneak peek of the next book in the

series:

Alexis's

cupcake

cupid

P
ink sparkly sugar?”

Katie peered into her shopping basket. “Check.”

“Red food coloring?” I continued.

“Check.”

“Heart-shaped Red Hots?”

“Check.”

“Red-and-white–striped cupcake wrappers?”

“Check.”

“Red gel frosting?”

“Check.”

“Yay! Time to check out!” I said cheerfully.

I led the way to the register at Baker's Hollow, the baking supplies store at the mall, and the Cupcake Club's home away from home. We had just been asked by a friend of Emma's mom—somewhat last
minute—to bake two dozen cupcakes for a ladies' Valentine's Day luncheon tomorrow.

Today is Saturday and the real Valentine's Day is Monday, so we had decided to shop for the supplies together, just for fun. Since I run the finances for our baking club (with the other members' skills as follows: Mia is in charge of style and appearance, Emma is in charge of marketing and publicity, and Katie is in charge of recipes), I had the money and was in charge of paying and then logging the purchase into my newly automated Excel spreadsheet on my tablet. (It replaced my leatherbound accounts ledger, which was running out of pages.)

The plan today was to get supplies for our Valentine's cupcakes, buy Valentine's Day cards for our families, then head back to Emma's to whip up cupcakes and
then
, maybe a sleepover. But first we needed lunch.

In the food court, a new Asian street-food place had just opened, and we had to check it out. Emma loves spicy Asian food, and so does Mia. Katie likes all types of cuisines, and I don't like spicy food at all, but Emma and Mia begged us, so we agreed to try it. The menu was awesome, and it had so many choices: dumplings, both steamed and pan-fried; marinated skewers of chicken and beef; scallion
pancakes loaded with barbecue pork; noodles with shrimp and mushrooms, and every kind of topping you could imagine!

I was studying the menu when Mia interrupted my thoughts. “Hey! I heard that the theme for the middle-school Family Skating Party this year is Chinese New Year! Won't that be cool?”

I am dreading the Family Skating Party more than maybe I have ever dreaded anything. Clearly, I am alone in this.

“Awesome!” Katie agreed with Mia. “They could do such pretty red party decor with that theme, and it kind of ties in with Valentine's Day.”

“Great food options with the Chinese theme, too. Much better than the Wild West theme last year,” said Emma. “I hate eating ribs in public. So messy.” She shook her head and laughed.

The other girls laughed too, and I imagined chasing the butterflies in my stomach around with a net and then whacking them!

“Alexis, is something wrong? You're being very quiet,” Mia said.

“Yes,” I answered grimly. “But don't you remember that I can't skate?”

“Wait, I thought you were going to take lessons!” said Emma.

I shook my head. “Didn't have time. I still stink. I think I might not go.” I hated to miss a social opportunity where I might get to interact “in the real world” with Matt Taylor, Emma's brother and the crush of my life. But that was the primary reason I
wasn't
going. I couldn't stand the idea of being mortified in front of Matt. What if he saw that I was a bad skater? He's such a jock—he'd totally lose respect for me.

“Wait,
whaaaat
? What do you mean you might not go? You have to go!” said Emma, just as we reached the front of the line.

“I don't want to discuss it,” I said. “Let's order.”

We pooled our money and ordered a bunch of different stuff to mix and match and share. The place was really busy, and it only had these long communal tables, so while we waited for our food to be ready, we split up and got busy scouting for people who were leaving.