Forgetting should’ve been easy.
First, everything that happened after school, including the walk to and from the field, took less than an hour. Second, I was not one of Rhys Castle’s fangirls. Far from it. I didn’t care if he had a girlfriend or not; that was completely TMI. He didn’t even stick around after we got back to the school, just rushed off to football practice without another word. Third, I had a new entry to record for my vlog, which usually helped me unwind.
So, why was I still thinking about Rhys?
He must’ve cast a spell on me or something because, even hours after we’d parted, I couldn’t stop replaying how he’d protected me from that wasp.
Ugh.
It wasn’t like he meant it as some big, gallant gesture. Rhys was a football player, for goodness sake—he liked hitting things. Even though, as quarterback, that wasn’t actually his job, I knew. Snap out of it, Ariel.
Time to focus and get these cupcakes finished.
The trust fall was actually my inspiration. Right when Ms. Weaver mentioned it, my mind immediately went to Mean Girls, which I’d watched way too many times. There was this scene near the end where the girls do a group trust fall. Not even one character hesitated. Obviously, none of the people in the movie had any qualms about their weight. I’d always thought that part was unrealistic.
But the movie was still awesome.
I decided to do a dozen cupcakes. For the cake itself, I chose chocolate mixed with real strawberries. The frosting would be petal pink, and each cupcake would be topped with a sugar disc, featuring a different quote or character from the movie painted on it. Recording my baking videos was pretty par for the course, so even with my inattention, I knew the cupcakes would turn out gorgeous.
Almost as gorgeous as Rhys’s half smile, I thought…then gave myself a mental head slap.
I got down to business and took my time. One of the beautiful things about baking was how precise it was. I’d decided long ago that I loved it more than traditional cooking. I mean, yes, you could add a little more of this or that, but for the most part, when it came to baking, if you followed a recipe to the letter, you were ensured a great result.
That really appealed to me for some reason.
With all the uncertainty in the world, it was nice having something I could count on. Something I could control.
“What smells so amazing?” Mom asked, walking into the kitchen and stopping to hug me.
“Mean Girls-inspired cupcakes,” I said.
“Ooh.” Mom gave me a wink. “So fetch,” she said. “I assume I’ll be able to take these to work for the kids?”
I nodded. “Of course! I’ll make another batch now that will have only frosting. I just need to save one for Toni. If she sees the vlog and I don’t bring her one, there’ll be heck to pay.”
“Which one are you thinking?”
“I’m between the ‘On Wednesdays, we wear pink’ and Damien in the blue hoodie. It’s my personal fave, but…”
Mom grinned. “Well then, you take Damien, give Toni the other one, and I’ll take the rest. Also, thank you for making extra. You know how hangry those five-year-olds can be.”
I faked a shiver. “Yeah Mom, I still don’t know how you do it.”
“I’ve always loved kids,” she said simply.
I knew that. Mom was a kindergarten teacher who not only loved her job but was amazing at it. Unlike me, she didn’t freak out when her students had to go to the bathroom or started crying or tried to eat crayons. My cluelessness when it came to anyone younger than ten was probably a side effect of being an only child. But I had so much respect for her and everyone in her profession.
God bless teachers, I thought, especially the ones who love their students.
“And,” Mom put in as she swiped a strawberry, “I think that’s why I got blessed with such an amazing daughter.”
“Ugh.” I laughed. “You’re so cheesy.”
“Nope,” she said, “I’m a cool mom.”
“I think that was another Mean Girls reference, but you really are,” I said, checking the time on the oven. “Hey, you want to watch the movie with me? They’ve only got about ten more minutes.”
Mom nodded, throwing an arm around my waist. “You know it. And then I want to hear all about Homecoming and school.” She patted my cheek as she walked by. “But mostly Homecoming.”
I held back a sigh.
Her words brought me right back to that field with the bugs, too-happy Ms. Weaver, and Rhys aka Prince Pickle aka Bug-Swatting Superhero.
Once the cupcakes were out, I filmed a clip with the finished product, arranged the cupcakes on a tray (setting one aside for Toni), walked into the living room, and plopped onto the couch to watch the movie with Mom. It turned out I didn’t need to set one aside. After I sent her a text, Toni came over to join us.
“These are so awesome, A,” she said, reaching for a cupcake, the very one I’d put in a special container for her. Then she gave my outfit a once-over. “By the way, you can’t sit with us. It’s Wednesday. We wear pink.”
“Okay, okay,” I said, hopping off the couch and snatching her cupcake away. The look on her face was priceless. “I guess I’ll just have to take my desserts back, then.”
“Wait,” she said quickly. “You can stay, I guess, since you come bearing gifts.”
I scoffed. “And because I live here.”
“That, too,” she said then took the cupcake back and dug in.
Both she and Mom wanted a recap of what happened after school, so I gave them the rundown. By the time I was done, they were grinning. I thought it might’ve been because Tina Fey was a comedy genius, but it turned out that wasn’t the reason.
“I’m impressed,” Mom said. “I can’t believe you stayed so calm with that bug.”
My eyes narrowed. “Are you making fun of me?”
“God no!” She held up her hands. “I meant that. Remember the time there was a spider in your car? You nearly got in an accident.”
“Yeah,” Toni muttered, “she swerved pretty good though, gave me whiplash.”
I shivered at the memory. “It dropped down from the ceiling, Toni. The ceiling! Like a spider ninja assassin.”
My best friend tried to cover it up, but I could still hear her muffled laughter.
Mom smiled. “See? This was definitely an improvement over that. You’re getting better at combatting your fear.”
I couldn’t disagree with the first part of her statement, but I still had major issues with insects. Rhys had been the difference today. He’d been so brave and awesome in that moment. As if she could read my mind, Mom lifted a brow.
“I think I like that prince of yours,” she said. “He sounds like a good kid.”
I shrugged. “He’s all right, I guess. If you like the grouchy, intense type.”
“Ariel, please,” Toni sniffed. “Rhys is one hundred percent swoon material, and he saved you from being stung. Don’t pretend you aren’t totally curious. You probably haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”
Gah, she knew me too well.
But I could still hear Rhys’s rejection in my ears. When I’d suggested the buddy read, he shot me down. Hard. We were being forced to spend time together, I reminded myself. Now, if I could only make Toni understand…
Mom saved me from having to respond. Bless her.
“We need to start thinking about your dress,” Mom said. “Homecoming will be here before you know it.”
I nodded, thankful for the change of subject. “I’ll look online and see what I can find.”
Her face fell. “Online? Don’t you want to go shopping, try a bunch on? It would be so much fun!”
Trying on clothes? Fun? Yeah right. Buying off the rack was a luxury my wide hips, big chest, and butt did not enjoy.
“Sorry, Ms. D, but who cares about clothes?” Toni said, and then she turned to me. “Rhys Castle, football hottie, touched you. Voluntarily.”
I pursed my lips. “Actually, it wasn’t completely voluntary. Ms. Weaver assigned us the trust fall, remember?”
She waved that away. “Eh, a very small detail.”
Mom bit back a laugh this time. “This Rhys must be something.”
“You have no idea, Ms. D.” Toni sighed. “Here, I’ll show you a pic.”
I watched in amusement as she pulled up something on her phone—it was Rhys’s social media account. There were only a few pictures, less than ten; it looked like he wasn’t that active online either. But apparently it was enough.
Mom tilted her head. “This is the guy they paired you with?” she asked me.
“It is,” I said.
“Hmm,” she murmured, and I had no idea what that meant.
The two kept looking over the pictures, and unable to help myself, I gave in. With a roll of my eyes, I leaned over to see what all the fuss was about. There was no harm in looking, right?
“I think half the students at Honeycomb High have a crush on him,” Toni said.
“Are you one of them?” Mom asked.
“Oh no. I grew out of my Rhys phase years ago. I just like him for Ariel.”
“And does she like him?” Mom said.
I threw her a look. “Real subtle, Mom.”
Toni pretended like I hadn’t spoken. “She hasn’t confirmed it yet. But he seems decent and smart—in addition to being hot—and I think he’s dedicated to football like Ariel is to baking. That’s why I think they’d be good together.”
My jaw dropped. “Toni, be serious. Rhys Castle?”
“I am serious,” she said. “And hey, don’t give me that face. You two would make beautiful babies.”
My cheeks went red, and I was speechless.
“He is pretty,” Mom commented.
I shook my head. “You guys, I have to see him tomorrow. It’s going to be awkward enough as it is. Try not to say anything else over-the-top, okay?”
“Ooh, and the plot thickens,” Toni said in delight. “What will you and Rhys be doing tomorrow?”
“I’m curious about that, too,” Mom said.
I had studied it so many times, I could picture the homecoming itinerary from memory.
“Dance lessons,” I said, wincing as their smiles turned brighter. “In the packet there’s an address where we’re supposed to meet Ms. Weaver. I’m a little nervous, to be honest.”
“Don’t be nervous, baby,” Mom said, patting my thigh. “It’ll be fine. You have great rhythm—you get that from my side of the family, by the way. And I know you love to dance.”
“Yeah, Mom,” I said. “Up in my room. By myself. Where no one can see me.”
She wasn’t having it. “You’re going to be amazing, and I can’t wait to hear all about it.”
“Plus,” Toni said, “look on the bright side, A. You’ll get to touch Rhys again.”
If she was trying to put me at ease, it didn’t work. Those words echoed through my mind as we watched the rest of the movie. And as my head hit the pillow that night, I had trouble getting to sleep because my nerves were turned up to a fever pitch.
But I couldn’t decide if that was because I was anxious or excited.
