It's already Friday. The week went by like a lightning. I did not spot that mysterious boy anywhere at school during the week. I had the thought that he might had switched schools because I was rude to him, in a way...or maybe he was a ghost and I was hallucinating because I really had to pee. Really crazy, but possibilities are quite endless.
Kylie and I were baking pumpkin pie to welcome the new 'cute boy' and his family to the neighbourhood. Trust me, that was all Kylie's idea. I was just helping because I was so good at pastry. Only because my mom was a pastry chef and she taught me everything I knew.
I would say that pumpkin pie was my specialty. I had gotten better at baking it throughout the years. Although, every time I baked it, I double-checked the recipe that mom jotted down for me years ago, when I started learning pastry.
Pumpkin pie was the first thing I learnt to bake, and it was horrible the first time I did it on my own. I remember my mom saying, "talk about sugar-less pie," and I must say I was quite mortified and disappointed. I mean, I went all out for that pie, trying to surprise her after she had a long day at work. Dad laughed at me and said that my mom's all-time criticism was the number one reason he did not want to learn how to bake. I regretted asking to learn but I was so intrigued by how just dough, water, sugar and countless other ingredients would turn out to be so delectable.
The ding sound the oven just made alerted me that my pumpkin pie was ready to be eaten. I took my red mittens from the counter and opened the oven, just after I switched off the stove. I pulled out the baking pan and put it on the counter.
"Mr cute boy is so gonna love this." Kylie said as she took in the smell of the delicious-looking pumpkin pie.
This better be as good as it looks, I thought. I wished I could taste it to tell how it tasted, the last thing I wanted was for the new neighbors to know me as, "the girl who baked us the most horrible pie ever." First impressions linger, and I would not want a bad one to the new family.
"You are dropping this off with me right?" She asked. I did not even think that I had a choice.
"What if they don't like my pie dude? Actually, what are we going to say to them when we get there? This is all so--."
"Elle Monroe, would you just chill a little? Why wouldn't they? I mean this is how you welcomed me to the neighborhood."
"Because my mom forced me, and I was trying to make you feel welcome because of all the--."
"Don't mention it," she strongly suggested, interrupting my sentence.
She did not like to be reminded about the times where she was bullied and all. She said that that part of her life should be buried, and I almost slipped.
"Right, so I will be your mother today, we are going." I groaned and surrendered.
When Kylie moved in, a few blocks away from mine, my mother had forced me to bake her and her family pumpkin pie. I baked it with love, not knowing that the daughter from there would be my best friend some day. I never got to thank my mother for forcing me to bake that pie and take it to the Cargos.
I remember walking so slow, rehearsing the words my mom told me to use: "Hello, my name is Elle, Elle Monroe and I baked pumpkin pie for you, with my mom's help of course. This is like our "welcome to the neighborhood" gift and I hope you enjoy every bite. I promise it's delicious and I made it with tons of love. And a little advice, please make sure that you do not upset Mrs Goldfeather's pit bulls, they can be pretty...aggressive." And that I should say the last line with an ironic chuckle, and whisper the last word.
I was rehearsing the little laugh I would let out during the speech as well. My heart rate quickened with every step I took, getting closer to the Cargos. I was only ten years of age and very shy.
When I got to the Cargos, I rang the doorbell and stood impatiently on the porch, swinging back and forth on my feet. Oh yes, I had to have the biggest grin to assure them that I come in peace and I was interested in knowing their little girl a bit more and also, just to be polite.
I rang it again because nobody came to the door to respond to the doorbell, and with every split second they delayed, my palms got sweatier.
Okay, I then thought I was hearing the door being unlocked.
I said the line I was rehearsing earlier, and my voice sounded a little shaky due to the nervousness. Not forgetting my grin of course, and I lifted my small arms to Mrs Cargo so that she can take the pumpkin pie off my hands.
Being the polite woman that she was, she smiled back, thanked me for the pumpkin pie and asked what my age was.
"Ten, turning eleven in April." I said, showing her by count of fingers.
"Well, I have a little girl here who is the same age as you, except that she is turning eleven in July. Do you want to meet her?" She asked with a high-pitched voice like she was speaking to a toddler.
"Gladly." I said the word that I said to be my favorite word back then. Only because of the mix of 'gl' and 'dl', it still sounds unique for me.
"Kylie, come meet a girl your age." She called out to her daughter.
Kylie walked slowly to the door, having her hands behind her back like a five-year old. I gave her my best smile to make her feel welcome or less shy. I also waved energetically while she sheepishly smiled, with a stifled wave.
"Can we be friends? You can come over right now if you don't mind. I have the new Frozen movie we could watch. Unless you want to go to the park..."
She shrugged one shoulder and faced down. I immediately got the idea that she might not like me at all, and she's not so interested in getting to know me like her mother is.
"Kylie likes the see-saw, I'm sure she'd like to go to the park with you." Her mother said, and I thought she was just trying to eliminate the disappointment that was covering my face. I was not totally convinced so I faked a smile to her.
Kylie then ignored what her mother said and ran upstairs. Her mother shrugged to me and I assured her that Kylie would come around.
Kylie eventually told me that the whole reason she was being all awkward and did not want to hang out with me was because she thought I also wanted to make fun of her like the rest of our class.
YOU ARE READING
The New Boy
Teen Fiction"I'll tell you what they have in common; love. This overrated feeling that everybody desperately wants a piece of." He said it so casually, as though no matter how many arguments I would throw at him, he would still stand with his word. • "I'm not...
