Katie Starting from Scratch Read online

  CHAPTER 1

  Really, Mom?

  So, Emily, what’s new with you? How are things going at school?” my mom asked the girl sitting next to me.

  “It’s okay,” Emily replied. “I like all my teachers.”

  Emily’s dad, who was sitting next to my mom, smiled at her.

  I should probably remind you that Emily’s dad, Jeff, is also a math teacher at the middle school that I go to. There I call him “Mr. Green.” And Jeff, or Mr. Green or whatever you want to call him, happens to be dating my mom. It gets a little awkward sometimes to have your mom dating a teacher at school, but I’m dealing with it.

  “Have you ever had trouble with the lock on your locker?” Mom asked Emily. Mom nodded toward me. “Katie had a hard time getting the hang of it. Once she even called me at work because she couldn’t get it open.”

  I looked at my mom in disbelief. “Really, Mom? Do you have to tell everybody that?”

  Maybe normally I would have just laughed at a comment about that (especially since Mom was right), but lately Mom was doing this thing with Emily, like sort of selling me out to get closer to her, that was starting to get annoying. And even more stuff happened during our dinner that night at the Maple Grove Diner.

  Mom changed the subject of my un-awesome lock-opening ability—but the conversation didn’t get any better.

  “Well, I’m glad everything is going smoothly for you,” Mom said. “I remember when Katie and her best friend, Callie, just stopped being friends for no reason. Can you believe that? But, luckily, she made some new friends right away.”

  I. Could. Not. Believe. It. Mom was telling all my deep, dark secrets to Jeff and Emily.

  “First of all, Callie stopped being my friend,” I said. “And, anyway, why is this important? I have awesome friends now.”

  “That’s exactly what I said,” Mom protested.

  That’s when the waitress came to our table.

  Finally, I thought. We can stop talking about all my horrible school experiences and eat.

  Mom and Jeff both ordered turkey burgers and salads. Emily ordered a turkey club sandwich.

  “Would you like fries with that?” the waitress asked.

  “I’ll have a salad, please,” Emily said. “And a glass of water.”

  Then the waitress turned to me. “What would you like?”

  Now, I like to think that ordering food at a restaurant is one of my skills. For example, if we go to Mariani’s Italian Restaurant, I always order the eggplant parm, because it’s awesome there, but if we go to Torino’s, it’s too greasy so I get the ravioli, which they make by hand. And I always end up with the best food on the table. It’s kind of an art. And whenever I recommend something, people love it. Maybe I’ll be a food critic when I get older. Imagine getting to eat in all the best restaurants and get paid for telling people what you did and didn’t like. That would be pretty amazing.

  Anyway, I know exactly what to order at the Maple Grove Diner. “I’ll have the Reuben with cheese fries and a root beer, please,” I said.

  Now, for years Mom and I have eaten out a lot, just the two of us, so she is used to my mad food-ordering skills. But today she raised her eyebrows at me.

  “Root beer?” she asked. “You know how I feel about soda. It’s so bad for your teeth, not to mention your overall health.”

  My mom is a dentist, so of course I know how she feels about soda. Which made me think she was just saying that to impress Jeff or something.

  “Mom, you know my food-to-beverage formula,” I said.

  Emily looked interested. “What is that?”

  “Well, you know how some things just go together?” I asked. “Like, an ice-cold cola is awesome with Chinese food. But on the other hand, any kind of soda is gross with P-B-and-J. The best drink for that is milk.”

  “What about . . . a tuna sandwich?” Emily asked.

  “Iced tea,” I said. “That would go great with a turkey club, too, by the way. Or you can get lemonade.”

  “Dad, can I get an iced tea?” Emily asked Jeff.

  “Well, I’d rather you didn’t have caffeine this late,” Jeff said. “But I think Katie is on to something. Maybe you can test her theory next time.”

  “I think it was very mature of you to order water, Emily,” Mom said, and I tried my best not to groan out loud. We had hung out with Jeff and Emily kind of a lot over the past few weeks, and Mom was always saying stuff like that. Like she was comparing us, or something.

  I was kind of mad at Mom for that comment, so I stayed quiet until the food came. My Reuben smelled amazing—it had corned beef, mustard, melted Swiss cheese, and sauerkraut. I know that might sound gross, but when you eat it all together, it’s so good. And the cheese fries were covered with that gooey orange cheese. I ate one of those first.

  “Whoops, Katie! You got some cheese on your shirt,” Jeff said.

  I looked down and saw a glob of orange cheese on my purple shirt. I grabbed a napkin and started scrubbing it, but the cheese just left an orange streak. Mom rolled her eyes and gave a big sigh across the table.

  Next to me, Emily was neatly cutting her salad into tiny pieces with a knife and fork. I realized that I had never seen her spill any food or anything like that. In fact, Emily is one of those all-over neat people. Her brown hair is always very neat and shiny, whereas my brown hair usually gets tangles in it by lunchtime every day. She wears white sneakers with no black smudges on them or anything, and I wear sneakers that I’ve doodled all over with colored pens. There’s usually some kind of mudlike substance on them too.

  Mom looked at Jeff. “Felix and Oscar,” she said, and they both laughed.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.

  “It’s from an old TV show about two roommates,” Mom said. “One was really neat, and the other one was . . . messy.”

  “Let me guess. I’m the messy one?” I said, and Emily giggled next to me.

  “It was a really funny show,” Jeff said. I think he was trying not to make me feel bad.

  “Very funny,” Mom agreed, smiling at Jeff, and then they started holding hands at the table.

  “Gross!” I mumbled, and then I bit into my Reuben. Mustard squirted out and landed on my jeans. Oh well.

  “Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Jeff said, looking at my mom. “I’m not sure if I can go see that show with you next Saturday. Emily’s mom has an unexpected business trip, so Em will be with me all weekend.”

  Emily’s parents are divorced, just like mine. Except I never see my dad, and Emily sees Jeff every other weekend and some days during the week, too. It’s hard to keep track of their schedules sometimes.

  “Oh, that’s a shame,” Mom said. Then her eyes lit up. “Hey, it’s a matinee, and we won’t be back late. Why doesn’t Emily hang out with Katie and her friends at their Cupcake Club meeting?”

  I almost spit a mouthful of sauerkraut across the room.

  “What?” I asked, with my mouth full.

  “Well, Katie, you’re old enough to babysit now, although this wouldn’t exactly be babysitting,” Mom said quickly. “And I’m sure you could use some help with your cupcakes.”

  I was speechless at first. Help? Help? At our Cupcake Club meetings, my friends Alexis, Emma, and Mia plan our schedules and go over our budget and come up with new cupcake ideas. We don’t need help from anyone, let alone someone younger than we are.

  “I would love to help,” Emily said a little shyly, and suddenly I felt badly for getting worked up. Yes, Mom thinking Emily was perfect was starting to get annoying, but Emily was pretty cool. And Emma’s younger brother, Jake, comes to a lot of our meetings when Emma has to watch him, and Emily is kinda sorta li
ke my younger sister, right?

  “Fine,” I said.

  Mom smiled. “Perfect! Jeff and I can drop you off at Mia’s for the meeting and then head into the city. I’ll check with Mia’s mom to make sure she can drive both of you back to our house.”

  “I just have to check with everybody first,” I said, reaching for my phone.

  “No texting during meals,” Mom said, and I pulled my hand back and sighed. I had a club meeting tomorrow anyway, so I’d just mention it then.

  Emily glanced at her dessert menu and then looked over at me. Her brown eyes sparkled under her perfect bangs. “What’s the best dessert to go with a turkey club?” she asked.

  I hadn’t thought about dessert formulas before. This could get interesting.

  “Hmm . . . Boston cream pie,” I said. “Definitely.”

  “Dad, can I get Boston cream pie for dessert?” Emily asked.

  Jeff laughed. “Sure, why not?”

  So Emily got Boston cream pie for dessert, and I got rice pudding, to test if it would go well with a Reuben, which it did. Emily did not spill a drop of chocolate or whipped cream, but I managed to get a glob of pudding on my sneaker. And I didn’t care one bit.

  CHAPTER 2

  Something New

  Katie, I can’t wait to try out that new thing you got,” Emma said the next day. “Does it really make two-toned cupcakes?”

  I nodded. “It’s going to be awesome.”

  We were in my kitchen, having a Cupcake Club meeting. Alexis was there too. The only member missing was Mia. Her parents are divorced, and she spends every other weekend with her dad in Manhattan. Kind of like Emily, I guess. Anyway, it means that she can’t be at every meeting. But all of us miss meetings sometimes, so it’s not a big deal.

  Alexis was scrolling down the screen of her new tablet. She had found this app that could track sales and expenses and stuff, and she was loving it.

  “Katie, if you give me the receipt for that, the club could pay you back,” she said. “You’re always buying new equipment that we end up using.”

  I shrugged. “That’s what an allowance is for. I love buying this stuff.”

  “But in order to get a real sense of our profits, we have to keep track of our costs,” Alexis argued. “Besides, it’s only fair to you.”

  I wrinkled my nose, thinking. “I’m not sure if I have the receipt. I think I used it to throw out my gum.”

  “Well, next time, then,” Alexis said, going back to her app.

  I finished setting up the ingredients for the cupcakes on my kitchen table: flour, sugar, eggs, cocoa powder, vanilla, baking soda, baking powder, milk, and butter.

  “So, we need to make two batters,” I said. “I thought we could start with vanilla and chocolate.”

  Then I picked up my latest baking tool: an insert that made two-toned cupcakes. It’s a white plastic thing that fits inside the cups in your cupcake pan. For each cup there’s a plastic circle with another plastic circle inside. You pour a different flavor or color of batter into each circle, and then take out the insert before you bake them. The finished cupcake will have one color or flavor on the inside, and a different one on the outside.

  “So why don’t the batters run together when you take out the insert?” Emma wondered.

  “I think because cupcake batter is so thick,” I said. “Anyway, we’ll see. That’s what this test is about, right?”

  We quickly made the two different batters—we’re pretty much pros at making batter by now. Then I put the insert on the pan. It fits only three cups at a time. Alexis carefully poured chocolate batter into the center circle, and then I poured the vanilla batter into the outer circle.

  “Here goes nothing,” I said, lifting up the insert. Each cup now had a vanilla cupcake with a perfect circle of chocolate in the middle.

  Emma clapped. “It works! Cool!”

  I rinsed off the insert in the sink. “Let’s do the whole pan.”

  When we finished filling the pan, I put the cupcakes in the oven. While they baked, we made a batch of chocolate frosting.

  “Dibs!” I called out, taking the beaters off the hand mixer. Frosting was still stuck to it, and I licked it right off. “Mmm.”

  Emma laughed. “You remind me of Jake.”

  “Just Jake?” I asked. “Matt is always grabbing the beaters from me. Sam too.”

  Emma shook her head. “I guess it’s a good thing you don’t have three brothers, then.”

  Emma mentioning Jake reminded me of Emily.

  “I have something to ask you guys,” I said. “I know we’re baking next Saturday, but Mom wants me to watch Emily. Can I bring her to the meeting?”

  “Oh, so your mom has another date with Mr. Green?” Alexis asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

  I sighed. “It seems like she always has a date with Mr. Green lately.” I lowered my voice. Mom was somewhere in the house, and I didn’t necessarily want her to hear that. “They’re going to some Broadway matinee or something.”

  “Sure, bring her,” Alexis said. “She’s practically our age, right? It’s not like she’s some annoying little kid or something. No offense, Emma.”

  “Believe me, I know how annoying Jake can be,” she said.

  The timer went off, and I took the cupcake pan out of the oven and put it on a cooling rack. We had to wait until the cupcakes cooled to frost them, or the frosting would just melt everywhere.

  Alexis walked over to the pan. “You know, they look just like ordinary cupcakes,” she said. “I mean, it’s a cool idea, but how would people know they’re special? It might not be worth the extra effort to make them.”

  I pulled a cupcake from the pan with my fingertips. “Let’s see if it worked, first,” I said. I took a knife and cut right through the cupcake. The chocolate cake center was perfect!

  “That is really awesome,” Emma said. “I bet people would love these, Alexis.”

  “Maybe we could cut one open and put it on the display,” I suggested. “As an example.”

  Alexis nodded. “That could work. And our customers are always asking for something new. I’ll add these to the order form and the website.”

  “We should taste them first,” I said. (I knew they were going to be great, but I never turn down a chance to taste a cupcake.)

  The cupcakes were just about cool enough to frost, so we iced them all. I poured glasses of milk for each of us (cupcakes and milk, the perfect pairing), and then we sat down and ate.

  In my first bite, I got vanilla cake, chocolate cake, and chocolate frosting all in one. It was amazing.

  “This is soooo good,” I said, after washing down the bite with some milk. “Can you imagine all the other flavors we could do?”

  “Red velvet and chocolate,” Emma suggested.

  “Or color combinations,” Alexis said. “Pink and purple. Yellow and green. Kids would love that!”

  We were quiet for a minute, enjoying our cupcakes and the sweet taste of success. Then Emma’s blue eyes lit up.

  “Oh, I almost forgot!” she said. “Principal LaCosta stopped me in the hall yesterday. She asked if the Cupcake Club would sell refreshments at the talent show.”

  “Oh, wow, that would be great,” I said. “When is that, anyway?”

  “Saturday the twentieth,” Alexis said quickly.

  “You are like a walking calendar,” I said. “Is there anything you don’t know?”

  “Well, I don’t know if this is such a good idea,” Alexis said.

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “Yeah, it’s perfect,” Emma said. “We always sell a lot of cupcakes at school events.”

  Alexis started to twirl a strand of her wavy red hair. “I guess I meant that it’s not a good day for me. I’m pretty sure I have a conflict.”

  “Well, that’s okay,” I said. “Emma and Mia and I could sell the cupcakes. As long as there’re three of us, it’s usually enough.”

  “Sure. Right,” Alexis said. She was acting a little
weird. “Yeah, I’ll add it to our schedule.”

  “Ooh, we could do the two-toned cupcakes in school colors,” Emma suggested.

  I nodded. “Awesome,” I said. “Hey, you know what? We should show Mia.”

  I cut one of the frosted cupcakes in half and took a picture on my phone. Then I sent it to Mia. She texted me back right away.

  Luv it! Save one 4 me!

  “So it’s official,” I said. “We’ve got a new cupcake in our repertoire.”

  “Oui! Oui!” Emma said with a giggle, practicing her French.

  “Right,” Alexis said. She wasn’t acting weird anymore. “So, next Saturday we’re meeting at Mia’s house to make the cupcakes for the flower show. Katie, you’re shopping for the ingredients?”

  I nodded. “Check.”

  “And you’re bringing Emily,” Alexis said, typing it into our schedule.

  “Check, again,” I said.

  I was feeling okay about bringing Emily to the next meeting. It was nice that my friends were cool with it (but of course they would be). And she was really sweet and helpful, and I guess Mom was right—we could always use an extra pair of hands.

  But most important, it gave me a new feeling—a big-sistery kind of feeling. I’ve never had that feeling before, and it felt kind of . . . nice.

  Weird, right?

  CHAPTER 3

  The Only Brown?

  Monday morning I was happy to see Mia on the bus. I miss her when she’s with her dad.

  “How was Manhattan?” I asked.

  “Nice,” Mia said. “Ava and I went to a sample sale. That’s when designers sell the sample clothes they make really cheap. I got this skirt there for ten bucks.”

  She looked down at her red skirt, which I could tell was shorter in the front and longer in the back. She had on a cute white shirt with it and red flats.

  “It’s nice,” I said. “You look like a candy cane.”

  “Red and white is a clean and classic combination,” Mia informed me. “I read that in a magazine somewhere.” She’s really into fashion, partly because her mom is a fashion stylist, and Mia always looks like she could be in a magazine. The only way my picture would be in a magazine is if the magazine were called Messy Cooking or something.