Confectionately Yours #2: Taking the Cake! (10 page)

I
hear Marco whisper my name as I walk out of Mr. Carter’s classroom, but I don’t turn around. I walk quickly down the hall, eyes on the floor. I can feel him hurrying after me. I don’t want to hear his apologies. I don’t want to hear his excuses. I just want to get away.

I turn the corner quickly and run right into Devon. “Hayley!” he says, flashing his brilliant smile.

“Oh, hi.”

“You okay?”

He cares
. The fact that Devon’s eyebrows are scrunching at me in worry makes me feel dizzy. I’m aware that Marco is hovering behind me. Waiting to talk to me, most likely. But I don’t really want to talk to him right now. “I’m … fine. I’m great, in fact.” I try to shake off my gloom and return Devon’s glowing smile.

His momentary concern for me passes. “Hey — guess what? I ditched the accent, like you told me to. And Ms. Lang said she liked it better.” He grabs my hand and kisses it. “I owe you my thanks, milady,” he adds in a goofy English accent.

“Oh, you’re welcome.” I guess Marco has finally taken the hint, or else he’s just bored by my conversation with Devon, because he gives up and moves on. My head swims with relief. “Hey — I, uh, I came up with a fund-raiser idea. How about cake pops? I could do a couple of different flavors —”

“What’s a cake pop?”

“Cake on a stick, basically. Like a lollipop. You dip them in frosting —”

“Cake on a stick? I love it!”

“Well, I didn’t invent them….” I blush, feeling like an idiot.

“You’re a genius for even thinking of them for the fund-raiser.”

“Well, actually, Kyle thought of them.”
Okay, lips: Stop moving. Silence!

“Okay, Hayley.” Devon’s blue eyes sparkle. “You’re not a genius. And this idea is just okay. Remind me never to give you a compliment.”

I laugh. “I guess I’m not very good at taking them.”

Devon’s hand reaches toward my face, and I suck in my breath. I feel his fingertips linger in my hair for a moment. My heart slows down. Time freezes.

Devon pulls his fingers away and holds them in front of my face. “You had a piece of fluff in your hair,” he says. Then he tosses it away. I watch as the small blue pill from my sweater floats toward the floor.

I feel as if I’m made of wax, like I’m shifting and melting.

Devon smiles a slow, soft smile. “Pretty sweater, by the way,” he says. “If you can take the compliment.”

“I can take it,” I whisper, but he has already stepped past me, continuing on to class.

A
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Coconut-Macaroon Cake Balls

(makes approximately 80–90 cake balls)

INGREDIENTS:

INSTRUCTIONS:

1. Preheat the oven to 350°F. Grease a 9" x 12" baking pan and set aside.
   
2. In a bowl, stir together the coconut milk, coconut extract, vanilla extract, granulated sugar, and oil.
   
3. In a larger bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.
   
4. Add the dry ingredients to the wet ones a little bit at a time, and combine with a whisk or handheld mixer, stopping to scrape the sides of the bowl a few times, until no lumps remain. Add the coconut flakes and combine completely.
   
5. Fill the baking pan with the batter, smoothing over with a spatula since the batter will be a little thick, and bake for 18–22 minutes. Transfer to a cooling rack, and let cool completely.
   
6. Make the white-chocolate frosting as described
   here
   . Take the cake you just baked and crumble it into the bowl with the frosting, breaking the cake into very small pieces to make mixing easier.
   
7. Either with a large spatula or spoon (or wash your hands and dig in!), mix together the cake crumbs and the frosting until completely and thoroughly combined. Chill in the refrigerator for 30 minutes.
   
8. Line two rimmed baking sheets with wax paper. Remove the cake–frosting mixture from the refrigerator and, with a melon baller or a tablespoon, scoop the mixture onto the baking sheets and roll into balls of about the same size.
   
9. Chill the cake balls in the refrigerator for at least 4 hours (or overnight), or place in the freezer and freeze them to speed up the process.
   
10. When the cake balls are firm to the touch, you can store them in a sealed container in the refrigerator and remove them to serve. The next steps are optional.
    
11. Place the chocolate chips in a microwaveable bowl and heat on 50% power, stirring every 15 seconds, until the chocolate is completely melted and smooth.
    
12. Take your plastic fork and break off the two
    middle tines to make a cake ball dipper (you balance the cake ball in between the two outer fork tines). Alternately, use a toothpick or two, or a spoon. Place wax paper on baking sheets nearby and remove a few cake balls from the refrigerator, leaving the rest to stay cold until ready to be dipped.
    
13. One at a time, dip the cake balls into the melted chocolate with the fork, rolling it around quickly to completely cover, and then placing on the wax paper to cool and harden. Repeat until all of the cake balls have been covered in chocolate, melting additional chocolate as necessary.
    
14. If you want, sprinkle a little of the coconut flakes on top of each cake ball, or if you’re feeling daring, try to roll the cake ball in coconut flakes to cover completely.
    
15. Insert a toothpick or lollipop stick about halfway into each cake ball, being careful not to poke through the other end.
    
16. Leave the cake balls out until the chocolate hardens (about 1 hour), then store in tightly sealed containers in your refrigerator.
    

White-Chocolate Frosting

INGREDIENTS:

INSTRUCTIONS:

1. Melt the white-chocolate chips in a small bowl in the microwave, then set aside to cool to room temperature.
   
2. In a large bowl, using a handheld mixer, cream the margarine until lighter in color. Add the vanilla extract, and then slowly add the confectioners’ sugar in 1/2-cup batches, mixing completely before adding more.
   
3. Add the melted white chocolate and beat on high speed until the frosting becomes light and fluffy, about 3–7 minutes.
   

I
’m dipping a cake pop in white-chocolate frosting when I hear the bell jingle over the door. This cake-pop thing is harder than it looks. The real trick is getting the frosting to go on evenly. If you can do that, then you’re golden. All you have to do is dip the pop into sprinkles or mini-chips, or whatever, and they look great.

But my frosting keeps glopping. Yes, that is the technical term.

I let out a low growl and toss the cake pop into the trash. This is the fifth one I’ve ruined.

I’m minding the café by myself. Unless you count Rupert and Chloe, who are also here. Rupert is playing the piano, and Chloe is sketching at a table nearby. We have the place to ourselves. Well, we did … up until one minute ago.

“Ahem,” a voice says behind me. “Uh — anyone home?”

I turn to see Kyle standing at the counter, smiling. “Hey, Kyle,” I say. “It’s Hayley.”

“I figured. I just wasn’t sure you were open — it seemed like you were busy.” Kyle is legally blind, but he can still make out shadows and shapes.

“I’m here — struggling with frosting.”

“Better than struggling with hungry sharks.”

“Or rabid monkeys.”

“There! Now you have a whole new outlook.” He grins, and a lock of curly blond hair falls into his gray eyes.

I wipe my frosting-covered hands on my apron. “Can I get you something?”

“What do you have in the cupcake department?”

“I’ve got caramel with white-chocolate frosting, banana with chocolate frosting, salty chocolate with chocolate frosting, and lemon with lemon frosting.” I make a mental note that we’ve run out of the pumpkin spice with maple frosting.
Time to bake more
, I think.

“I’ll take banana with chocolate,” he says. I reach for a square of wax paper and pull out one of the cupcakes. Just as I’m placing it on the plate, Kyle says, “This is the kind you gave Ben, right?”

His voice is so casual that for a moment, I think I’ve misheard him. “What?”

“Didn’t you make one of these for Ben Habib? He told me about it.” Kyle hands me a five-dollar bill, like we’re just making normal café conversation. Rupert’s fingers dance over the keys, and I feel my heart flutter in time to the quick notes of the piano.

I stand there a moment, considering what to say. It probably took Ben about three seconds to figure out where the cupcake came from. Of course.
Dur
, I think. I mean, I’m not the only person on earth who knows how to make cupcakes. But how many people at our school would make a banana one topped with chocolate frosting and a teeny-tiny marzipan banana?

“Am I embarrassing you?” Kyle asks.

“No.”

“Because I can’t see your face, so I don’t know.”

“I’m not embarrassed — it’s just … Yeah, I made the cupcake. But not in that way! It was from … someone else.”

“Oh.”

“But now Ben thinks it’s from me?”

“Well, kind of.”

Rupert stops playing suddenly, and the room is quiet.

“Would you tell him that it isn’t?”

“Sure.”

“Because I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.”
Why am I going on and on about this?

Kyle smiles. “No problem, Hayley.”

For a moment, I wonder why we’re still standing there. Then I look down at the five-dollar bill in my hand and remember that I need to make change. “I’ll be right back,” I say, and head over to the register.

Once I hand Kyle his change, he takes his plate and walks over to the piano, which Rupert has just abandoned. Kyle puts down his plate on top of the piano, then feels the outer edges of the keyboard. He places his fingers at the center and begins to play. It’s a piece of music I recognize. Brahms. It’s lovely, and seems perfect with the fading late-afternoon light that is streaming through our front windows.

I look over at the trash, where my lumpy cake pop sits atop a pile of napkins and empty paper cups. My frustration has faded away, and I feel ready to try again. Besides, Kyle is right — struggling with frosting is a lot better than struggling with hungry sharks — or other things.

I guess I just needed some perspective.
I’m glad Kyle came in
, I realize. And I’m glad I got to clear up that Ben thing. I
didn’t want Kyle to think I really was behind all of the insane romantic behavior. I mean, I didn’t want
Ben
to think that.

It doesn’t really matter what Kyle thinks.

Right?

Gingered Pumpkin Cupcakes

(makes approximately 12 cupcakes)

INGREDIENTS:

INSTRUCTIONS:

1. Preheat the oven to 350°F. Line a muffin pan with cupcake liners.
   
2. In a large bowl, whisk together the pumpkin, milk, vanilla extract, brown sugar, and oil.
   
3. In another bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, ground ginger, and salt, and mix.
   
4. Add the dry ingredients to the wet ones a little bit at a time, and combine using a whisk or handheld mixer, stopping to scrape the sides of the bowl a few times, until no lumps remain. Add the diced candied ginger and combine completely.
   
5. Fill cupcake liners two-thirds of the way and bake for 22–24 minutes. Transfer to a cooling rack, and let cool completely before frosting.
   
6. OPTIONAL: Sprinkle additional diced candied ginger on top of the frosted cupcakes.
   

Ginger Cream-Cheese Frosting

INGREDIENTS:

INSTRUCTIONS:

1. In a bowl, cream together the cream cheese and margarine or butter completely. Slowly add the confectioners’ sugar in 1/2-cup batches, mixing completely before adding more.
   
2. Add the vanilla extract and ground ginger and beat on high speed until the frosting becomes light and fluffy, about 3–7 minutes.