Frosting and Friendship (4 page)

“Friday?” I ask.

They both nod. “Yeah, that should work,” Zola says.

I breathe a sigh of relief. “Okay, good. Friday it is.”

“Work on that cupcake song between now and then, okay?” Abigail says with a wink.

“How about if I eat a cupcake instead?” I say, thinking of the cupcake shop where I'll be meeting Isabel tomorrow night.

We hustle down to the studio and collect their things. Both of their parents arrive a few minutes later.

After they leave, I rustle around in the kitchen, looking for something to eat, when Madison comes in.

“How'd band practice go?” she asks.

I turn around as she sets a plastic bag on the counter. “It was fun. What's that?”

“Leftover applesauce cake from the potluck tonight. You can have some if you want. It's pretty good. Mom picked it up at the bakery.”

I take the cake out of the bag. “Was the potluck a basketball thing?”

She leans against the counter, and I can't help but notice how strong she looks. Her arms have so much definition to them, and I wonder if she lifts weights on top of everything else she does to stay fit.

“Yeah. End-of-the-season party. I was kind of down about the season ending, but I'm feeling better now.”

I cut a piece of cake and put it on a plate. “How come?”

“Some of my friends talked me into going out for softball. Tryouts are this week.”

I get a fork out of the silverware drawer. “Softball? But you've never played. Volleyball and basketball have always been your sports.”

She shrugs. “I figure it doesn't hurt to try. My friends tell me softball is a blast. And if I make the
team, it'll be a good way to keep myself in shape.”

“Well, good luck with that,” I say as I sit at the table with my piece of cake.

Mom comes out of her office and joins us. “Lily, here's the book for our next book club meeting. I bought two copies for us, so you don't have to worry about rushing through it.”

She sets a copy of
The View from Saturday
down in front of me. I feel a tiny knot in the pit of my stomach, because there's one more thing on my growing list of things I have to do in the next few weeks. I take a bite of cake to distract myself from the nervous-making thoughts.

“Mom,” I say, “I told Isabel I'd meet up with her at the cupcake shop tomorrow night, to start planning for Sophie's party. Can you drive me there after dinner?”

“Yes,” she says as she gets herself a piece of cake. “I'm happy to do that.” She looks at Madison. “We're having a surprise party for a friend of Lily's here in a couple of weeks.”

Madison nods. “Please remind me a couple of days before the party so I can make sure I have
something else to do far, far away that day. I don't want to get sucked into cleaning house or decorating or baking or any of the other hundred things you guys will be doing.”

I gulp.

“It probably will be a lot of work,” Mom says, “but it'll be worth it. Right, Lily?”

I take another bite of cake, hoping to distract myself again.

What have I gotten myself into?

W
hen I get to It's Raining Cupcakes on Tuesday evening, it's almost dark, but I can see Isabel waiting in front of the brightly lit shop.

“I'm going grocery shopping while you two chat,” Mom says. “I'll be back in about an hour.”

“Okay,” I tell her as I get out of the car. “Thanks, Mom.”

She waves and drives off.

“Hi, Isabel,” I say.

“Hey, Lily. Thanks for coming.” She opens the door to the shop and we step inside. It smells like freshly baked cake. Delicious! Isabel locks the door and says, “We're not actually open right now, but my mom said we could sit at a table and have a cupcake while we talk about the party.”

“Where are all the cupcakes?” I ask as I scan the empty cases.

“Oh, we take them out of the cases before we close every afternoon,” Isabel explains. “Whatever is left over, we sell the following day at a discount. They're called day-old cupcakes. They still taste good, but we want people to know that the cupcakes in the cases are always really fresh, baked the same day. Follow me. I'll show you.”

We go around the cash register and back into the kitchen. She walks over to a big plastic tub on the counter.

“Let's see,” she says as she pops the lid off. “You get to choose from cookies 'n' cream, coconut bliss, banana-cream pie, or red velvet. What looks good?”

“They all look fantastic.” I try to imagine what each one might taste like. Red velvet is my favorite, but I kind of want to try something different tonight. “I think I'll go with the cookies 'n' cream.”

Isabel smiles. “Excellent choice.” She grabs a pair of plastic tongs, picks up a cookies-'n'-cream cupcake for me, and places it on a pretty yellow plate. She chooses banana-cream pie for herself.

“You must feel like the luckiest girl in the world,” I tell her. “You get to eat cupcakes anytime you want.”

“I kind of get sick of them sometimes, to be honest. But my mom loves her cupcake shop, and while business was slow for a while, things have picked up, so that's good. We have Sophie to thank for that. I feel lucky to have Sophie as a best friend, that's for sure.”

The way she says it, I feel like I'm watching two friends whisper back and forth, sharing a secret. “What did she do?”

“Once a month or so, she comes and walks around the neighborhood, wearing a cupcake costume she
made, to help bring us business. She looks amazing and, at the same time, a little bit ridiculous, but she doesn't care. She's helping us, and that's all that matters to her.”

“Wow,” I say. In that moment, I'm so jealous of Isabel and the close friendship she has with Sophie, but I try to not let it show. Softly, I say, “You are lucky. What a good friend. She's never said anything about that to me.”

Isabel hands me the plates. “That's Sophie for you. She's not the type to brag about herself, right?” She points toward the dining area. “Find the table with the pad of paper and pen, and take a seat. I'll get us some milk.”

“Okay, thanks.” I go back to the dining area and see the paper she was talking about. I sit down in one of the two chairs, still thinking about what Isabel said. This surprise party is my chance to show Sophie she's one of my best friends. I have to do everything I can to make it a really great party.

I turn the pad of paper toward me and read what Isabel has written.

Things to do for Sophie's party:

1. Make a list of people to invite

2. Make or buy invitations

3. Pass out invitations

4. Buy decorations

5. Plan menu

6. Games or something else fun to do?

7. Come up with a plan to get Sophie to Lily's house

8. Buy gift

“My dad loves lists,” Isabel says as she sits down with the glasses of milk. “I guess I take after him.”

“Yeah, it's a good way to really see everything that needs to be done,” I tell her, secretly panicking inside at all the things that need to be done.

I peel the liner off of my cupcake.

“I've been working on a list of people to invite,” Isabel says, flipping the pad to another piece of paper. “I hope thirty isn't too many?”

I almost drop my cupcake. “Thirty?”

“It's really hard to narrow it down any more than that because I don't want anyone to feel left out. And
I think I should invite both boys and girls, because we have some boys who we're good friends with at school. Think your mom will be okay with thirty kids, both boys and girls?”

“Uh, sure.”

She smiles. “Oh, good. I was hoping you'd say that. My dad said he'd help me make some invitations on the computer, so I'm going to do that tonight, when we're done here. I should be able to hand them out to everyone tomorrow.”

I am giving myself a little pep talk right now. This is what it sounds like in my brain.

It'll be okay, Lily. Think of your algebra class—that's about thirty kids. It's not so many, right? It'll be fun. What does Dad always say? The more the merrier? The important thing is to make Sophie happy. Isabel is going to help you with everything, so it's not like you're going to have that much to do. Look. She's handling all of the invitations, and that's a big job. Remain calm. Eat your cupcake. It will be fine.

I bite into my cupcake and the creamy taste of vanilla frosting mixed with Oreo cookie hits my tongue, and it's really, really good. I take a deep breath and close my eyes for a second, savoring the flavor.

“What time do you want to have the party?” Isabel asks.

And just like that, I'm back from the sweetness of cupcakes to the business of party planning. “Mom and I talked about it on the ride over,” I tell her. “Is seven o'clock okay? That way we don't have to worry about serving a meal.”

“Perfect,” Isabel says, writing down seven o'clock on her pad of paper. “Can you give me your address?”

She hands me the pen and paper, and I write down all of my information, including my cell phone number. While I'm doing that, she says, “I figure I'll get purple and silver decorations. Purple and silver look pretty together, don't you think?”

“Ooooh, that sounds nice.”

“I can come to your house early that day and help you decorate. I don't want you to have to do it all alone.”

Isabel looks at the list and points to number five. “So, what do you think we should do for food?”

“I wonder if your mom might want to donate some cupcakes,” I say. It seems like a good solution to me. And who doesn't like cupcakes?

She taps the pen on the table, thinking about my question. “The thing is, Sophie has cupcakes here all the time. I want something special for her birthday. This is the big thirteen, right? She should have an amazing dessert for becoming a teenager.”

I feel my cheeks getting warm. Isabel must think I'm an idiot. I have to show her that I want something amazing for Sophie too. “Right. Of course she should have something really special. I bet I can find a dessert that's out of this world.”

“Really?”

I try to sound excited, even though I'm actually terrified as to whether or not I can pull it off. “Sure.”

“Awesome,” she says, writing my name next to number five on her list. “I know you'll make something fantastic.”

When she says the word “make,” my stomach lurches. It feels like I'm on a giant roller coaster, heading down, down, down. “Well,” I quickly say, “we have this great bakery nearby that my mom goes to . . .” I stop because Isabel looks like I've just told her I want to serve asparagus and mud pies at the party. It's like the mother/daughter book club meeting all
over again. She really wants me to make something. I try to save myself from complete embarrassment. “Maybe I can get some ideas there.”

“Maybe. I bet your mom would love to help you make something. And what about your older sister? Does she like to bake?”

“Not really. She's into sports.”

She nods, like it makes complete sense. “Well, you're one of the Baking Bookworms,” she says, taking a bite of her cupcake. When she's done chewing, she smiles. “Which means there isn't a single baking challenge you can't handle, right?”

I should have suggested a different name.

The Bashful Bookworms.

The Babbling Bookworms.

The Brilliant Bookworms.

Why didn't I suggest a different name? And why did I agree to cohost Sophie's birthday party?

F
rom the time I was three years old, I loved to sing. Mom says I could sing better than I could talk. I get that from my dad. If my dad isn't playing music, he's usually listening to it, and apparently I loved to sing along to whatever song was on the radio, whether I knew all the words or not.