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“It does.” He grabbed his belt and fastened it around him. “Sometimes, it makes me want to act dumber than I am so maybe people will like me?”
I reversed out of the space and slammed my brakes on. “Don’t you ever do that, Leo.” I put my car in gear and rolled toward the edge of the lot. “Never be anything other than your true self. If people don’t like it, then that’s their problem.”
“You sound like my mom,” Leo murmured. “Speaking of which, she said she needs the flour that makes cakes rise. Do you know what that is?”
I snorted. “Yep. Don’t you?”
“Do I look like a baker?” Leo asked, signaling to himself. “I’m a nerd, Elodie. A nerdy nerd.”
I grinned at him and the way he said it. He wasn’t afraid of who he was, and no matter how much he sounded like he doubted himself, I had a feeling deep down he knew who he was and what he wanted to be when he grew up.
It didn’t take long to drive to the store, then his house, and I realized how close we were to the high school. It was a five-minute drive at most.
“Wanna come in?” Leo asked. “My mom is a little crazy, but…” He left that hanging in the air, and I wondered what he meant. My mom was crazy, but in that drug-addict-crazy kind of way. Somehow, I didn’t think his mom would be like mine, so I figured what the hell. I turned the engine off and jumped out of the car, then followed him up the path and to the front door. A yapping bark rang out as soon as we stepped inside, and then a weird-looking dog jumped at Leo.
“My mom owns an animal shelter,” Leo said, but I had no idea how that explained why the dog had zero fur.
“That you, Leo?” a new voice asked, and I followed Leo into a kitchen where a woman stood covered in flour and…was that eggshell in her hair? “Thank god!” She rushed for Leo and grabbed the bag out of his hand. “I can’t lose this bet to your uncle. I’ll never live it down.”
“Why don’t you buy them from the store like you usually do?” Leo asked, stepping inside the kitchen and pulling a chair out from around the table and signaling at it for me to sit.
“Because he’ll know,” Leo’s mom shouted, throwing her hands in the air and spinning around. “He always knows.” She narrowed her eyes at nothing in particular. “He’s a pain in my ass, but I will not let him win.” She pointed at Leo. “I will make these damn cupcakes if it’s the last thing I do.” She pushed her shoulders back and half spun when she noticed me. “Who’s this?”
“This is Elodie, Mom,” Leo introduced. “She’s the girl I was telling you about from French class.”
“Ohhhh!” His mom stepped forward. “You’re the girl who needs help in French.”
“Mom!” Leo shouted, and I glanced over to see his face turn beet red. “I didn’t tell you that.”
“Oh.” His mom’s eyes widened, and she pushed the hair out of her face. “I…well…erm…”
“It’s okay,” I finally spoke. “I’m terrible at French class.” I laughed, trying to ease the tension surrounding us. “Dancing is my thing. I’m only at school to graduate.” I’d never been honest like that.
“I get it,” Leo’s mom said, her shoulders slumping. “I’m terrib
le at baking cakes, but I have a bet to win.”
“I can help,” I offered, already standing.
“Oh no.” She waved her arm in the air. “I’m sure you and Leo were going to do some schoolwork or—”
“We were gonna hang,” Leo said, and I turned to face him as he sat where I’d been sitting. “This is hanging, right?”
“Yep.” I smiled. “Besides, I’m all for winning a bet.” I stepped toward the kitchen counter and blinked at the amount of mess. “What do you get if you win?” I asked.
“Bragging rights over my little brother,” Leo’s mom said, her tone sounding victorious already.
“Well then, what are we waiting for…Leo’s mom.” I felt awkward calling her that, and if I really thought about it, I’d have been racked with nerves over the fact I’d come in here and not thought twice about helping her bake a cake. But the reality was there was a side to me which didn’t care what people saw, that didn’t think twice about what I did. But it was the side I kept locked away, only able to come out when it really had to. And I was starting to wonder if I should let it out more than I had been.
“Belle,” Leo’s mom said, holding her hand out to me. “You can call me Belle.”
“Elodie,” I replied, placing my hand in hers and smiling. “Never El, always Elodie.”
* * *
ASHER
We met at a neutral location—my mom and dad’s house—and didn’t talk for several minutes as we prepared for what was about to come. It had been nearly a week since we’d made this bet, and now we had four people tasting. Belle had Dad and Ford, and I had Jax and Mom. We’d each chosen our judges wisely, but the question remained…who would win? I was ninety-nine percent sure I had this in the bag because Belle couldn’t bake to save her life—she’d gotten the skills from our mom. So, with a grin on my face, I turned to look at Belle, where she was standing next to the counter in Mom’s kitchen.
