“So I said, ‘Why do you have three flip-flops when I only have one?’”
Cue raucous applause. Cue my hackles rising.
If I kept responding like this, my shoulders were going to stay that way.
Everyone except for Mr. Hilarious dispersed and took their spots at their stations, leaving the space right next to me open.
For fuck’s sake.
Jack stopped in his tracks when he realized what he was left with. He looked left, then right, probably calculating the level of effort it would take to have someone switch places with him. But everyone around us was engaged with their seatmates, completely unaware of the drama that had the capacity to unfold.
I, however, could feel the tension weighing me down like a five-hundred-pound boulder on my chest.
He made his way to his spot, sitting down in front of his convection toaster oven. We were seated in the mess hall at the long tables, in front of cooking stations set up for each counselor. Our supplies and ingredients were beside each other. That seemed like an oversight. Who knew what kind of sabotage could take place if your seatmate was a conniving jerk?
He tapped on the table, took a breath, and turned an inch toward me before looking back at his oven. Then he did it again. He was starting to earn the moniker of weirdo on top of asshole. “Natalie, I?—”
“Jack attack, can you hand me that whisk right by you? I didn’t get one.” Sawyer pointed at his station.
Jack nodded and grabbed his second whisk, tossing it at Sawyer before stabbing his own whisk at them. Sawyer parried as though they were fencing. Jack then flipped his whisk between his fingers and placed it back on the table.
I mock coughed once Sawyer walked away. “Two-faced.” I coughed again. Maturity was overrated when you were in your thirties.
“What’d you just say?”
“You may have everyone here convinced that you’re some wonderful guy, but I know better.”
“Okay.” Jack’s voice dripped with condescension. I imagined him taking a long hike off a short cliff and smiled to myself, which garnered a confused expressionfrom the man who haunted my dreams. And my reality.
“It’s all right. You’ve already made your mind up about me. But I figured something out.” I leaned in, making sure that no one else could hear me. “You’re just the hater in the comments. And I deal with those on the daily, so…”
His jaw clenched. “I am not. And it’s not like you’re an innocent party here.”
“Right. Go ahead and deflect. But you should ask yourself, if you’re such a nice person, how can you justify your treatment of me?”
Then I saw it. A wince. Dipped eyebrows. A break in his resolve. “Princess.” His fingers flexed, almost as if he wanted to reach out and touch me, but that made no sense. Right?
“Chop chop, now.” Bobby broke through the noise and addressed the room.
I turned to face him, leaving Jack right where I wanted him: behind me and out of my line of sight.
“Hello, everyone, and welcome to the first-ever Starlight bake-off. For today’s competition, we’re making toaster oven cake.” Bobby stood in front of two tables with gingham cloths spread over them and gestured grandly. “As you’ve noticed, each station has a recipe book and some basic baking supplies.
“In a moment, you’ll randomly come up one at a time and choose a Wildwood wild ingredient from the first table here, then two ingredients that will complement it from the second table. Remember to use your wild ingredient to make the best cake we’ve ever tasted.”
Azalea held up a fishbowl with papers inside it and made a show of putting her hand in and spinning the papers around. She drew names, and Sawyer was drawn first. I tried to see what was on the wild table, but our view was obstructed, probably so we couldn’t plan ahead. Sawyer brought back a bottle of Coca-Cola, along with a fancy chocolate bar and marshmallows. I had no idea what their plan was or if you could even bake with Coke, but my best guess was that I’d be stuck with something weird.
Felicia was up next, coming back with her arms filled with raisins, cream cheese, and… applesauce?Chase came back with matcha, cherries, and edible violet flowers. Then it was my turn.
I walked up to the table and cringed. The only remaining items were bacon, ginger, vodka, chili pepper, sage, and… mayonnaise. That seemed less controversial than bacon and ginger, and I had no idea what to do with the vodka. But mayo was made with eggs and oil, if I remembered correctly, so it had to bake well, right? I grabbed the jar and moved to the other table, lifting the gingham tablecloth, and grabbed raspberries and gelatin. I could make this work.
I smirked at Jack as I walked my goodies back to my station. Lamar was called, and he ended up with the ginger, then took his time selecting almond milk and lemon. Jack came back with the bacon, as well as maple syrup and espresso to go with it.And lastly was Emerson, who was gifted with the vodka. She also chose lavender and vanilla bean flavorings, which sounded yummy together.
Bobby gestured to Azalea, who took over. “Random ingredient cake baking is a camper favorite during cooking class. You may think that’s beyond the scope of what these toaster ovens can achieve, but those little things can get up to four hundred and fifty degrees.”
Bobby jumped in. “We’ll be judging you on three criteria: taste, texture, and décor. Be sure to focus on all three areas. If you fail in one of these categories, that will be the yeast of your problems. Get it? Yeast?”
“It’s always funnier when you have to explain the joke, Bobby,” Azalea deadpanned.
