I’d become paranoid, not just because my
black lab, Hunter, watched me pace my living room, but I swore the chocolate
mousse cake I had baked this morning at five a.m. stared at me, too. Sure, a
cake doesn’t have eyes, but I baked this one for my neighbor, Foster, and
decorated it with white chocolate truffles that could double as them.
As Hunter inched closer to the cake on the
coffee table, complete with drool sliding from the corner of his mouth, I may
have snarled at him. A first for me. I never snarled at anyone, humans or dogs.
But with my nerves jangling like crazy, I decided to blame my hormones. At
fifteen, I may have been a few years past puberty, but I, Breanna Charlotte
Apollo, had the worst crush on the just-turned seventeen-year-old hunk, Foster
Quinn, president of the senior class of Musgrove High and one of the hottest
guys I knew.
My longtime crush beginning in the seventh
grade had grown into full-blown lust—which, of course, explained why I woke up
before dawn on a Saturday morning to bake a chocolate mousse with graham
cracker crust cake from scratch. Foster had a bad chocolate addiction, like me.
This cake would be my birthday gift for him, a few days late. His birthday had
landed in the middle of the week, and I had given him a silver keychain with
his initial on it for his keys to the new silver Jeep Renegade his parents
bought him.
A way to a man’s heart was through his
stomach. Once I gave him the cake, he would invite me to the lake—where he’d
planned to go with his group of friends, aka his crew.
Hopefully, he would notice I’d dressed for
the lake, in my bathing suit, board shorts and tank top. Even though it was the
last weekend of September, the Indian summer still lasted, which I didn’t mind
because it meant having more time to hang out with Foster.
His parents owned a house near Devon Lake.
Foster and his crew had hung out there most of the summer. I’d never been asked
to join, but, now, I had the power of my homemade chocolate cake to convince
him this time. People raved about my ooey-gooey, sin-in-the mouth desserts,
especially Foster. When I presented him his birthday cake I had made just for
him in the pre-dawn hours, maybe then he would finally understand how much he
meant to me.
Hunter nudged his nose in the plastic Saran
wrapped cake. I swooped it up then inhaled to calm down. I had to leave before
Foster left without me.
After wiggling my toes in my flip-flops and
then cracking my neck from side to side, I stepped outside to near-perfect
weather for swimming. Foster’s Jeep sat across the street, including the man
himself with his dad.
Mr. Quinn did most of the talking while
Foster listened. Not wanting to intrude, I waited impatiently. Eh, screw it.
“Hey, Foster!” I yelled loud enough for the
entire street to hear.
Startled, he turned in my direction. I took
a second to soak him in, mainly his face, which had a perfect tan from him
spending most of the summer outdoors.
Mr. Q didn’t a wave or a smile. He didn’t
seem pleased with my interrupting, but I ignored it as I walked toward them,
clutching the pan of chocolatey goodness.
“Hiya, B.A.” Foster used my initials as his
nickname for me. He kept his eyes on the cake instead of on me. When I reached
him, he ruffled my hair. Instead of giving me a hug or a nudge like he did with
his other friends, he always tapped the top of my head—an ongoing thing for
years.
My face warmed. Hopefully, he or his dad
wouldn’t notice.
“I bought you another gift for your
birthday, even though it’s a few days late.” I presented the cake to Foster,
who licked his bottom lip.
“It’s chocolate cake,” he said in
appreciation.
Mr. Q. dropped the stern act and inspected
the cake with approval. “Is this cake from The Tasty Darling?”
My Aunt Crystal and Uncle Ron owned The
Tasty Darling, which reviewers and patrons alike had considered the top bakery
on the East Coast for the last ten years.
“It’s my Aunt Crystal’s recipe, but I baked
it from scratch.” I held it out to Foster. “In honor of your seventeenth
birthday. I woke extra early today to bake it, so it’s still fresh.” I wanted
him to know how much work I had put into his present. He knew my baking skills
very well because he volunteered as my guinea pig when it came to baking new
creations.
“Bree, you didn’t have to go through the
trouble.” He took the cake and moved to give me a hug.
I embraced him around the waist because I
couldn’t reach his shoulders unless I lifted up on my toes. Foster stood over
six feet. But I didn’t mind. It allowed me to rest my cheek on the middle of
his chest and subtly inhale his woodsy scent I wish I could spray on my
clothes.
He patted my shoulder then shifted away. His
dad, in his typical weekend wear of khakis and some light-colored polo shirt,
complete with leather loafers, took out his cell. “I have a client calling in
ten minutes. You’ll remember what we talked about before we were interrupted.”
“Yes, sir.” Foster’s smile dimmed, but his
voice still held respect. Mr. Q. demanded respect from everyone, including his
son.
Mr. Q clapped Foster on the back, and then
nodded at me. “Tell your parents I say hello, and give my regards to your aunt.
I’ll have to stop in The Tasty Darling next week to buy her banana bread
doughnuts for my office.”
“Sure.” I saluted him, which actually made
him wink at me. My cheeks warmed again. Mr. Q was pretty cute for an older man.
Foster definitely took after his dad more than his mom. He had the tall, dark,
and handsome thing going on.
Mr. Q walked toward the house, his cell to
his ear. Foster watched him go, swinging his key chain around, including the
one I gave him for his birthday. Seeing him with my gift gave me the major warm
fuzzies.
“I think my dad has a thing for your aunt,”
Foster announced.
“What?” My jaw dropped in shock. Why would
he think—?
He leaned toward me, close enough his chest
bumped my nose. “Are you wearing makeup?”
Yes! He noticed! I’d started wearing some
makeup since Mom gave me permission to when I turned fifteen in June. I usually
wore the basics, such as lipstick and concealer and mascara, but not much on
the weekends. This morning, I made sure I looked like the older girls in
Foster’s crew who would be at the lake. I wanted him to see me as more mature
and not like an annoying little sister.
I thrust out my chest, along with flipping
my hair over my shoulders like I’d seen many of the girls in my school do to
get Foster’s attention, especially Tori—
All of a sudden, loud booming music blared
around the corner, and two cars drove up behind Foster’s car. One of the
backdoors opened before the rest, and a girl with a head of bouncing
red-and-blond curls jumped out and bolted toward Foster.
He set the cake on the ground and held out
his arms. “Tori!”
She jumped on him and wrapped her legs
around his waist. I ducked away to stop from getting hit as he swung her around
in a circle.
Tori Greeley, who should be my nemesis,
blocked me from Foster’s attentions. Not only the most popular girl at my
school, she was also his girlfriend of one year.
She exemplified what a popular mean girl
should be, much like you would find in some stereotypical teen movie. But
instead, she was very sweet, almost as sweet as the chocolate Foster loved. I
guess it made sense why he adored her.
While they kissed, I concentrated on the
sidewalk. Behind me, the rest of the group emerged from the cars. A beefy arm
swung around my shoulder, and Sam, Foster’s best friend, rocked side to side.
“B.A. Baracus, how’s it shaking?” His big
hand caused destruction to my hair, messing it up more than Foster had.
I exhaled through my mouth since he had a
bad sweating habit. His black Pac-Man T-shirt already had sweat stains under
his arms. He loved wearing vintage T-shirts from the 1980s, especially anything
to do with old TV shows. He got such a kick calling me B.A. Baracus, even
though I never gave him permission, and had only allowed Foster the right to
call me by any nickname.
I swallowed a snarky response. He was a
harmless goof. We actually had some good conversations, mainly about food since
he loved eating. I usually let him be my guinea pig number two for anything I
cooked.
“Hey, Sam. You’re going to the lake with
Foster?” I played dumb. The rest of the group of three girls and two guys
nodded or waved at me. We all recognized one another because went to the same
school.
“Yup. Got to get as much sun and swimming in
before the summer disappears.” He lifted his sunglasses over his head as he
spotted my edible masterpiece on the sidewalk. “Cake?”
I smothered a laugh as his eyes widened and
his bottom lip trembled. “Yeah, it’s Foster’s for his birth—”
He lunged for the cake and tore off the
wrap, taking a chunk from the side and popping it in his mouth.
I gasped in horror as he licked his fingers
free of chocolate and tried to tear off another piece. A sob tumbled from my
mouth and everything seemed to slow down. Before he destroyed all my hard work,
Foster snatched the plate from him and shoved him away.
“Dude, Bree baked this for me.” He clutched
the lopsided cake to his chest and glared at his friend.
At least Sam had the decency to look
ashamed. “Sorry. Chocolate is my weakness.”
Tori gave me a one arm hug. “Don’t be upset.
Foster will cherish it even if Sam ends up eating the entire thing.”
I wanted to lash out at him, and her, but
she sounded so sympathetic. She had always been nice to me, even if I tagged
along with her and Foster when I shouldn’t have.
“Foster will probably share his cake with
everyone.” I hid my frustration behind a smile.
“Chocolate makes me break out. As for
cake.…” She grimaced. “Too fattening.” I’d never seen her eat anything dessert or
the least fattening. It showed because of her flat stomach and slender arms and
legs. I enjoyed my share of sweets, and I always tasted the food I cooked. I
had a normal build for my age and height, but I had a curved tummy and solid
hips no one wanted.
“I guess my cake is a winner based on Sam’s
reaction.” I hoped he didn’t snatch more chunks before Foster ate some.
“I’ll make sure Foster gets the next piece.”
Tori rubbed my arm as he talked with the rest of his boys, while the three
girls chatted among themselves. “Even if he didn’t like it, Foster will tell
you he does since he loves you like a little sister.”
From anyone else, her comment would have
been cruel. She may have meant it like that, but I really didn’t think she did
because of how she generally treated me.
I had yet to witness one unkind action
from her. But it still stung. She had unwittingly put me in my place as a side
piece in Foster’s affection. Tori was his equal, while I stood on the lower
scale in the role of a relative to him.
A rumble came out of nowhere. Not from the
sky to show a storm brewing but from a moving van driving by, followed by a
white SUV pulling into the driveway of a house two down from my own across the
street. The loud sound seemed to snap those around me into action, and they
scrambled to the cars to pull out their beach gear.
Foster tossed his keys to Tori. “Warm up the
car for me, babe.”
Tori swung the keychain around her finger
and strolled past him. When he smacked her butt, she giggled and blew him a kiss.
I gagged, and gagged again when Foster
handed Sam the cake. It took everything I had not to stomp over and snatch it
from his hands. But this time, he didn’t rip off a chunk. He bowed to Foster
and then turned to me. “I’ll protect this cake with my life.”
“You better!” I pointed at him, wondering if
I could sit next to him in the car to keep an eye on him.
Foster came to me and set his hands on my
shoulders, giving them a soft squeeze. My stomach jumped in response. But I
played it cool, waiting for him to tell me to grab a bag for the lake.
“Again, thanks for the cake. I guess I
should put it in my house so it doesn’t melt, but I want to eat it at the
lake.” He leaned down and kissed my cheek.
My fingers twitched to grip the side of his
shirt, but I kept my arms at my sides. “Instead of by the ocean, cake by the
lake?”
“I can’t wait to lick your frosting off my
fingers as I enjoy the beauty of the lake, surrounded by my friends.” He sent
me a beaming smile.
“Sounds like a great plan. Give me a minute
to—”
“I’ll catch ya later, B.A.” He then got in
the driver’s seat of his new car, revved the engine, and drove away with a car
full of his other friends behind him while they left me behind.
