“Now that’s different,” the woman said. She was so busy making huge swirls of pink frosting on each cupcake that she still hadn’t looked up. “We don’t usually do donations. We’ve got at least a four-week waiting list just for orders over a dozen, but that does sound pretty cool.”
Izzie felt suddenly hopeful. “It is cool.”
The woman picked up a bowl of little white crystals and began sprinkling them on the cupcakes. Her name tag said Amy. “What community center are you working with?”
“Uh…” This was silly. Was she really pausing to decide whether she should say Harborside? She had never been ashamed of where she grew up before, and she wasn’t about to start now. “Harborside. It’s this beach town about twenty minutes from here.”
As soon as Izzie said the word Harborside, the woman’s demeanor changed. “I’m sorry,” she said flatly, interrupting Izzie before she could continue. “I shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up. We are back-ordered for at least two months. I can’t help, but thanks for thinking of us.”
Noooo! She had been so close. She couldn’t let the woman back out now—whether the woman knew who Izzie was or not. She had to get through to her. “I know your bakery has only been around for a year and another cupcake shop is opening down the street,” Izzie said, thinking of her notes. “Working with an organization like the Social Butterflies would really keep your name out there.”
“We’re pretty well-known already,” the woman said. “I have to get back to work now. I have to finish an order that is going to the senator’s family.” She stopped, blushing. “If you don’t mind, please let yourself out. Thank you!”
Izzie would have laughed at the irony, but she was too tired to move her jaw. She thought she had been getting close to receiving donations from Butter Me Up, but once she’d mentioned Harborside, the woman had shut her down. She knew people at EP were weirded out about her home-town, but would stores really not want to work with her for the same reason? If the Butterflies were as esteemed as Violet said they were, these places wouldn’t keep themselves from being part of a major EC event just because Izzie was the one doing the asking, would they? Izzie dug in her heels.
“Listen, Amy,” she said, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice, “I know your cupcakes are the ones everyone in town is gaga over right now and they’re selling faster than you can make them. But if you’re doing that well, can’t you spare a few dozen for charity? Whether you like me or not, the Falling into You Fest is a great cause. Wouldn’t you like to help me and get some good karma out of it?”
The woman stuck her pastry knife into a cupcake and looked flustered. “It has nothing to do with Harborside. I just…” She sighed and shook her head. “I can’t, okay?” she said quietly. “I’d like you to leave, and please tell the rest of the Butterflies not to bother coming back, either. I’m too old to play games with my business.”
Izzie left the store without another word and plopped down on a nearby bench. What did Amy mean by games? And why was she acting so weird when Izzie mentioned Harborside? Whatever Amy’s deal was, there was only one thing that really mattered: Izzie had failed. Miserably. She still had fifteen minutes to get to the fourth store, something called MoooToYou, but she didn’t have the heart. She closed her eyes in disgust, wishing she could erase the afternoon from memory.
“Well, this is an interesting place to take a nap.”
She opened her eyes. Brayden was standing in front of her in his EP school uniform. He sat down next to her, smelling like a mix of soap and Tide. “What are you doing here and why do you look like someone just ran over your puppy?” Brayden asked. “Or in terms you can understand—like someone ran over your favorite pair of swim goggles?”
She smiled. That summer a crazy cyclist had smashed Izzie’s favorite goggles after she’d dropped them on the boardwalk. She’d been so upset, and then Brayden had surprised her with a new pair. At the moment neither losing her favorite goggles nor Brayden’s joke seemed funny. “This sucks on a level that goggles can’t compare to,” she said miserably.
Brayden put his arm around the back of the bench. “Want to fill me in?”
She was embarrassed to tell him what seemed to be happening, but knowing Brayden, he wouldn’t quit till she had. “I’m chairing the first Butterflies event,” she said, and he looked surprised. “I know, me a Butterfly. Weird, right? But that’s not the upsetting part. I’m supposed to get all these donations, which every Butterfly in the history of time has apparently gotten blindfolded, and every store I ask keeps turning me down flat.” She pushed her hair behind her ear self-consciously. “It’s because I’m from Harborside,” she said, and stopped him from butting in. “Don’t say I’m being insane, because it’s true. As soon as they realize I’m the girl from the papers and remember where I’m from, no one wants to deal with me. I can’t get over how shallow people in this town are,” she grumbled.
Brayden’s eyebrows rose. “Shallow yes, but stupid no. Stores around here aren’t going to miss out on an EP event just because you’re the one who is selling it.”
“That’s what I thought, but then why would they turn me down?” Izzie asked.
“I don’t know.” Brayden shook his head. “But something is off. I don’t love everything about EC, either, but not everyone here is bad news, Iz. If you give some people a chance, you might find out they’re pretty decent.” He smirked. “What are you doing joining the Butterflies, anyway?”
She sat up straight. “Why? You don’t think I’m Butterfly material?”
“I just didn’t think you were wrapped up in that sort of thing,” he told her. “Charity work, great, but the Butterflies are, well, like the name says, ‘social.’ ”
“Your girlfriend is a Butterfly,” Izzie said without thinking.
His smile seemed to fade. “As I said, the title of the club includes the word social. She’s as social as they come.”
“Why are you with her, Brayden?” Izzie asked quietly, surprising herself and him at her frankness. “You could do so much better than her. You know that, right? Savannah is so…” Whoa. What was she doing? “Sorry. That was rude.” She looked down, embarrassed, but Brayden didn’t say anything. “I should go. I still have one store that hasn’t turned me down yet.”
Brayden stood up. “I’ll go with you.” Izzie started to protest. “I’m not taking no for an answer. This is something I know I can help you with.”
“Okay, you can witness them turn me down firsthand, ” she said.
“What store did you just come out of?” Brayden asked. “Butter Me Up?”
Izzie nodded. “But Brayden, there’s no point in—”
Too late. Brayden was already dragging her back toward the entrance. He pulled her inside. Amy saw him and grinned. “Hi, Brayden! Did your mother like the bonnet cupcakes I made for her mother-daughter tea last week?”
Izzie looked at Brayden curiously. Did he have a sister she didn’t know about?
“She loved them,” Brayden said smoothly. “Which is why we’re here. You know you’re the best, Amy, which is why I can’t believe you would turn my friend away when she’s letting you in on the event of a lifetime. The Social Butterflies put on the best Emerald Prep events of the year.”
Amy looked at Izzie nervously. “Yes, well, I’m sorry I can’t help.” She smoothed her apron. “We’re back-ordered for at least a month.”
Hmm… I thought you’d said two, Izzie thought to herself.
“Amy, you’re superhuman!” Brayden charmed her. “You squeezed in my mom with a day’s notice. I’m sure you can whip up a hundred cupcakes with a month’s notice.”
Amy looked trapped. “I could, but…”
“Izzie is a good friend of my family’s, and she also goes to Emerald Prep,” Brayden continued. “As she tried to explain, all the money raised goes to charity. How can you say no?”
“It sounds like a great cause, but I don’t have time to commit to yet another function when I alre
ady have a calendar full of them. The situation is complicated,” she added vaguely.
Izzie’s heart sank. Even Brayden couldn’t sway her. She was just too much of a liability.
“That’s too bad. I’ll have to make sure my mom lets her friends know you’re overbooked and aren’t taking new orders.” Brayden looked at Izzie. “Let’s go to MoooToYou! and tell them they can have the event after all.” He took her hand. It felt warm and sticky against her own. “Mooo is going to be thrilled. They’ve been dying to do a Butterflies event.”
“Wait,” Amy said. “I don’t want to upset your mother. Maybe I can shift things around.”
Brayden gave Izzie’s hand a squeeze, and she got chills. “That would be awesome.”
Ten minutes later they were both jumping up and down outside Butter Me Up and laughing. Izzie held the pink contract in her hands. The bakery was officially signed on to the Falling into You Fest and was donating two hundred cup-cakes. Brayden made Amy double the offer when he slyly let it drop that his mom would be disappointed to hear how Izzie was treated.
“You were a rock star in there!” she told him, feeling so happy that she could burst.
“I aim to please.” Brayden bowed. His face grew serious. “But I’m sorry I had to step in like that. They should have listened to you, Iz.”
She shrugged. “True, but I’m getting used to it. I’m not backing down.”
“You shouldn’t,” he insisted. “You deserve better than that.” He seemed to hesitate. “Listen, about me and Savannah.”
At her name, Izzie inhaled sharply. Were they really going to have this conversation? She so wanted to, even though it scared her.
“I want you to know that ever since I met you, I’ve felt…” Izzie held her breath, waiting to hear more.
“Izzie! Izzie!”
Violet and Nicole ran across the street and Brayden let the half-finished sentence die in the air. Izzie tried not to look too disappointed. Maybe this wasn’t the right time to discuss what-ifs. She held up the pink contract proudly. “Two hundred cupcakes from Butter Me Up. You can thank Brayden.”
Violet didn’t look as excited as Izzie was about the score. “At least we’ll have cupcakes. Nic and I were turned down by everyone on our lists.”
“What?” Izzie said, shocked. “How can that be?”
“I don’t know. As soon as they heard what event we were doing and where we were from, they basically showed us the door,” Violet said grimly.
Nicole shuddered. “I feel so dirty.”
So maybe getting shot down had nothing to do with Harbor-side, after all. But if Izzie wasn’t the reason, who was? What would people have against the Butterflies? “All these places are ones the Butterflies have used before. Why would they want to stop working with us now?”
Violet inhaled sharply. “Maybe someone put them up to it.”
“Who put together the vendor list?” Brayden asked.
Izzie looked at the bottom of her paper again. That’s when she saw a name that she hadn’t seen before. She pointed it out to Violet and Nicole. The three of them said the name at the same time.
“Savannah Ingram.”
“What?” Brayden asked, and ran a hand through his hair. “She wouldn’t… Are you sure?”
“Her name is right here in small print,” Violet said, showing him the page.
There was only one explanation for why they’d been shut out everywhere: Savannah had gotten to them first. Izzie was peeved, of course, but something else was bothering her, too: Mira had been the one who’d given her the vendor list in the first place.
After all that had happened between them, would Mira really go out of her way to make things worse?
Nineteen
Mira’s mom dropped her off down the block from Corky’s just as the rain let up. It had been pouring all day, and the cobblestone street was one giant puddle. Normally you couldn’t pay Mira to be out in that kind of weather, but that night she was going to do something she should have done sooner. It was time to face Izzie, spill the beans about Savannah, and say sorry for being such a coldhearted… well, you know. If Izzie was ever really going to fit in with their family, then Mira had to try (not fake try) to get to know her. If that heart-to-heart went well, then part two of her confessional road trip included meeting up with Taylor and dropping a huge bombshell on him, too.
First things first: Find Izzie. Mira’s mom had said she was at Corky’s, but that sounded off base. Half of EP hung out at Corky’s, which meant Izzie would probably steer clear. Mira and her friends loved it there. The diner was fun and loud and known for its gravy fries and kitchen sink full of ice cream that waitresses delivered on roller skates. It was the last place Mira would have expected to find her cousin, but she decided to give it a shot.
The place was mobbed, but she thought she saw the back of Izzie’s head across the room. She breathed in the smell of sweet-potato fries as she moved across the room to the beat of the Rihanna song playing on the jukebox.
“Mira!” She heard Savannah’s voice and stopped dead in her tracks. Savannah was sitting at a table with Lauren and Lea, and Mira’s heart sank as her best friend waved her over. Savannah had on a thick cream headband that matched the fitted sweater she wore with pearls to a tee. Mira had picked out the top for her last week. “Sit!” Savannah said. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you out with Taylor?”
Mira sank in the seat next to her, feeling like she weighed a thousand pounds. “I’m not meeting him for another hour. I came down here early to, uh, do some shopping.”
“At Corky’s?” Savannah looked at Lea. “Can you check on those fries?”
“We just ordered them,” Lea said as she stirred her vanilla Coke with a spoon.
“So?” Savannah sniped at her. “I’m hungry, Lea. Can you check on the fries and take Lauren with you?”
Lauren rolled her eyes at Mira as she and Lea slid out of the booth.
“Thanks!” Savannah sang and turned to Mira, her face full of worry. “I can tell when something is wrong with you. What’s going on?”
Mira bit her lip. She was going to have to tell Savannah eventually. She was telling Taylor tonight. “All right. The reason I’ve been so weird lately is because I’ve been hiding something.” Savannah’s brown eyes darkened. “I dropped public speaking and study hall to take painting and sculpting classes.” There. She’d said it.
Savannah started to laugh. “That’s your dark secret? You’re joking, right? Art classes are so cheesy.”
“They’re not,” Mira insisted, and immediately her mind went to Kellen. She felt like he had been avoiding her since the other afternoon in the art studio. He hadn’t come after school to work with her once. She thought about going to a cross-country meet but worried he wouldn’t speak to her. She had screwed up with him, too. “You know how you’re always making fun of me for paying so much attention to the hemline on a skirt or to a flower in your mom’s garden? I think I do that because I think of everything as art. I figured it was time to find out if I can actually paint what I see in my head.” She smiled. “It turns out I can.” Wow, getting this off her chest was better than she had imagined. No more sneaking around. No more worrying about what her friends thought….
Savannah pursed her lips. “Have you told Taylor that you’re an artsy chick yet?”
“I was going to tell him tonight.” Mira tugged on one of her dangling crystal earrings. “I don’t know how he’s going to take it, though. He sort of freaked out when he found me in the art studio the other afternoon with Kellen.”
“Kellen Harper?” Savannah asked, her eyebrows raised. “How do you know him?”
“He’s in two of my art classes,” Mira explained. “He’s cool.”
“You better not say that around Taylor,” Savannah said, her mouth twitching slightly. “In fact, I think you should forget about saying anything about art to him tonight or ever.” She touched Mira’s hand. “Sweetie, taking art is kind of, I don’t
know, a waste of time, don’t you think?”
“No,” Mira insisted, her face reddening. “And if Taylor has a problem with it—”
“If you say ‘Taylor and I are breaking up,’ I will freak out,” Savannah told her. “I already sent the party planner my seating chart, and you and Taylor are sitting with me.” Savannah’s sweet sixteen was on Saturday. Everyone in their class had clamored for an invitation. Less than half got one.
Mira looked at the table. “I didn’t say we were breaking up. I just want things to change.”
Savannah sipped her soda, leaving a lipstick mark on the straw. “Mira, you’re dating one of the hottest guys in school. He’s the quarterback, for God’s sake. Things don’t change. You do.” She looked at her suspiciously. “What’s this really about? This doesn’t have anything to do with Izzie, does it? Tell me you’re not feeling bad for her again.”
Mira’s mouth felt dry. She decided to ignore the Izzie comment. Savannah could only handle so much in one conversation. “This is about Taylor,” Mira said. “Vanna, he’s not the guy I thought he was when we started dating. He wants a girlfriend who looks pretty and waves an EP flag at every game and practice. Like a trophy wife. I am so not a trophy wife in training! I want him to know that. I’m tired of things always being about him.”
“We all get sick of the guys sometimes, but they get sick of us, too. It doesn’t mean you’re going to break up. You’re just having a rough patch.” Savannah looked far, far away as she played with a strand of her blond hair. “Whenever Brayden gets whiny with me about my attitude, I tell him he can’t dump me. Our parents would kill him.” Brayden and Savannah were practically an arranged marriage waiting to happen. Their parents joked about a wedding all the time. “Now cheer up and stop stressing about Taylor and trophy wives,” Savannah added, a devious smile returning to her face. “We’re making headway on the Izzie front. It pays to have parents who have the most lavish parties in town. Every restaurant in EC is afraid to tick them off! I told the vendors that if they wanted to keep my parents’ business, they’d say no to Isabelle Scott. And it worked! Izzie’s got no caterer and no flowers. Butter Me Up caved for some reason, but she can’t plan a party with cupcakes. I give it two more days before she waves a white flag.”