A Taste for Love Page 22
I drag my eyes back to Ben. “Do you have any idea how hard it is for Grace to trust someone? She finally lets you in, and then you decide to dump her? Via text message? You didn’t deserve her.”
“Well, she didn’t look all that sad when she was making out with Nathan,” James abruptly interrupts.
“Excuse me?”
My outburst startles the elderly lady who walks by at that very moment. I shoot her an apologetic look.
“Before you defend her, I was there,” James states. “I went back for my phone after we left yesterday. I saw Grace and Nathan making out by the bathrooms.”
“I don’t believe that for a second!” Sarah defends. “Grace isn’t that kind of person.”
James looks at her as if noticing her for the first time. Meanwhile, I think back to last night. It wasn’t like Grace to run out like that, but I assumed it was because she was upset about Ben.
I shake my head. “Sarah’s right. You must have seen someone else. Grace would never cheat on anyone.”
“How can you be sure?”
Because her first boyfriend cheated on her, asswipe.
I ultimately say nothing, because it’s not my secret to tell. James takes my silence for confirmation of his suspicions.
“Like I said. It’s not Ben who doesn’t deserve her. It’s Grace who doesn’t deserve him.” His eyes narrow. “And as for you, I would have expected more than Nathan.”
“Oh, so I’m somehow guilty by association? Really? Because from what I hear, you’re the problem, not him. You tried to ruin his life.”
“Is that what he told you? That I ruined his life?”
I flinch at the fury in his eyes. Ben grabs him by the arm.
“James, don’t. He’s obviously still lying about what happened. Maybe we should—”
James cuts him off. “No. You don’t owe anyone an explanation. Especially anyone associated with Nathan. Let’s go.”
He drags Ben across the parking lot before he can protest. To my horror, large, fat tears trickle down my cheeks, and I swipe at them angrily. To make matters worse, Edward steps out of the car a few feet away and walks toward us.
“Hi, Sarah! Are you ready—” He sees me and freezes. “Liza? Are you okay?”
Sarah touches me on the elbow. “Maybe we should go back inside. We can talk about it in there.”
I pull away from her and manage a smile.
“You guys go in without me. I . . . I have to go check on Grace.”
I hurry back to my car, slamming the door shut in time for the dam to break.
* * *
• • • • •
It takes a few minutes to pull myself together. I end up driving to Boba Life to grab the tea I promised Grace. When I pull into her driveway, I check my reflection in the mirror. A girl with tired eyes and reddened cheeks stares back at me. I take several calming breaths before getting out of the car. I plaster a cheerful smile on my face as Mrs. Chiu answers the door.
“I’m back!”
She seems surprised by the change in my appearance but decides not to comment. I slip my shoes off and climb the stairs, knocking softly on Grace’s bedroom door.
“Hey, it’s me.”
She opens the door from the inside, and I find her still in her pajamas. At least the curtains are open, and there’s more a hill than a mountain of tissues around her.
“I come bearing gifts.”
I ended up ordering four drinks total, so I place the bag on her desk before removing one and piercing the plastic top with a straw. The rest stay in the holder as I hand a lilac-colored drink to her.
“It’s your favorite. Taro.”
“You’re the best,” she says, managing a weak smile.
Grace settles back onto the bed and pats the spot next to her, gesturing for me to join. I grab my tea and climb next to her.
“How are you doing?” I ask.
She sighs and rests her head on my shoulder. “I really liked him, Liza.”
“I know you did.”
“I thought he was different.”
The ache in her voice matches the one in my heart. I know exactly how she feels. I reach over the tissue box between us and squeeze her hand.
“I’m sorry, Grace. I’m so sorry.”
A few more minutes pass before she tips her head in my direction. “Are you okay?”
I keep my eyes forward. “Yeah. Why?”
“It doesn’t seem like it.”
“What makes you say that?”
Her eyes bore into me. Sometimes I forget how well she knows me. I settle for a shrug.
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing.”
“Fine. I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to get upset.”
She nods against my shoulder. Gradually, I recount what happened at the plaza. I pause when I get to the part about Nathan, unsure of how to broach the subject. At some point, I just go for it.
“James . . . accused you of kissing Nathan after we got out of the cake challenge.”
Grace’s eyes widen, and she looks away quickly.
“It’s not what he thinks,” she says eventually, fiddling with her comforter.
“So you two weren’t kissing?”
“We were . . . but it didn’t happen the way James thinks it did. Nathan is the one who kissed me. I went to the restroom and ran into him in the hallway. We started talking, and he said he was sorry about what happened with Ben. I was a little weirded out when he hugged me, but then he tried to kiss me and I had to shove him off.”
Grace chokes up again, and I wrap an arm around her and pull her close.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was afraid to. I thought . . . he’s your sister’s boyfriend. Besides, it was just the one time, and he apologized right away. He said he didn’t mean to misjudge things.”
I clench and unclench my fists. No one has a right to take what hasn’t been freely given.
“Grace, if he made you uncomfortable, then you shouldn’t have to hide it. In fact, I’m glad you told me. Jeannie doesn’t deserve to be with a cheater.”
“What if she doesn’t believe me?”
“Of course she’ll believe you! Why would she think you were lying? Jeannie’s known you almost as long as I have.” I soften my voice. “Look, we can talk to her together.”
“What if she accuses me of trying to steal him? Remember what happened with Everly last year? All I did was work on a history project with Aaron, and she was convinced I wanted him for myself. Please don’t make me tell Jeannie. I . . . I just don’t think I can handle that right now.”
It kills me to say okay, but I don’t want Grace to feel pressured.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Thanks for being here, Liza.”
“Are you kidding me? You’re my best friend. I’m always going to be here for you.” I throw an arm around her and touch our temples together. “Just make sure you give me a heads-up if you need help getting rid of a body.”
She giggles, but the laughter fades as something comes over her.
“Does this mean you and James . . . ?”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “He showed his true colors today. I’m glad we’re done.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“It doesn’t matter. Today’s not about him.” I gesture for her to drink her tea. “I’m here for you, and there are no boys allowed.”
“What about girls?” she asks through a mouthful of boba.
I pretend to be offended. “What am I? Chopped liver?”
“You don’t count. I don’t stand a chance with you.”
“Trust me. In that situation, you’re the one way out of my league.”
“Hmm,” she answers, tapping her chin. “On second t
hought, I think you’re right.”
“Hey!”
It’s good to see her laughing again. Since she’s done with her tea, I grab both and take them to the kitchen to throw away. When I come back, Grace is staring pensively out the window.
“You know, it’s kind of ironic.”
I sink back onto the bed next to her. “What is?”
“People assume because I’m bi, I get to date all these people. But all I really want is one person to love me, you know? I’m so tired of trying so hard and still getting my heart broken.”
When the tears roll down her face this time, they’re quiet and steady. I tug her against my shoulder.
“I wish I could make this go away, Grace.”
“I’m really glad you’re my friend.”
“Best friend,” I tease, pointing at a picture of us on her desk. “Don’t be downgrading me like that. I worked hard to get here.”
“Shut up.”
“You shut up.”
Grace pokes me hard in the ribs, and I shove her away.
“Keep doing that, and I won’t tell you what happened with Sarah today.”
That grabs her attention immediately. Tears forgotten, she sits up with greedy eyes. I grin.
“Well . . .”
Chapter 22
Four days later, on round three of the competition, I shuffle into the break room with drooping eyes. It took everything I had this morning not to burrito myself in my covers. I was up late talking to Grace; she’s decided to stay away for the rest of the contest. After arguing with my alarm for those precious extra minutes, I left the house in a black linen tee and jean shorts.
I expect Mom to disapprove, but she doesn’t spare me a glance.
The contest must be really getting to her. I’ve never seen her look so dejected. We’re only three challenges into this year’s contest, but five contestants down. She’s had to cut half the planned baking days out to compensate. As much as Mom grumbles about the preparation that goes into it every year, she takes great pride in how it comes out. It must have gotten to Chef Anthony too, because he barely musters a half-hearted smile.
“Everyone excited about today?”
Dad is the only one who answers in the affirmative. Mrs. Lee is glued to her phone, dressed in a sleek black pantsuit with freshwater pearls and another pair of sky-high stilettos. Jeannie texts me saying Nathan should be dropping her off soon. Seeing his name on the screen puts me on edge. I need to figure out how to get her away from him so we can talk.
Just like bake day two, Gloria abruptly flies into the room.
“Chef Anthony! Come quick!”
Chef Anthony runs out of the room behind her, and Mom immediately follows. I jog to catch up to them. We arrive at the bakeshop to see contestants and family members gathered outside the doorway. James and Ben are standing next to each other, leaning against the wall. James looks surly, his eyes narrowed as he glances around at the other contestants. Ben’s lips are pressed in a thin line, his eyes pinned to his shoes. I ignore them both as I step into the room behind Mom. She comes to a full stop just inside the open door, and we both gasp aloud.
The entire bakeshop is in shambles. There’s flour and sugar all over the floor. Towels and utensils are strewn across all the workstations, and even with a cursory glance, it’s obvious ingredients are missing off every table.
“Who had access to this room?” Mom demands to know.
Chef Anthony rears back from the death glare she aims his way.
“Uh . . . before competition, just me and the volunteer students. But none of them would have done this.”
“How do you know? Maybe one of them is racist.” She points at her head. “The ones who wear the red hats.”
“Mrs. Yang, that’s a serious accusation,” he intones, squaring his shoulders. “And I don’t take well to you making it. My students are good kids, and they volunteer their free time to be here.”
“Only because you’re giving them course credit.”
His lips press into a tight line. “Even so, getting into this school is extremely competitive. None of our students would risk their spot for something like this.”
“Laˇo pó, let’s not jump to conclusions.” Dad lays a hand on Mom’s shoulder. “We don’t even know when this happened.”
“Did anyone see anything?” Mrs. Lee pipes up.
None of us had noticed she joined us. A minute later, Jeannie walks in as well. Chef Anthony cocks his head toward Gloria.
“Were you the one who found it like this?”
She shakes her head. “No, Chef. One of the contestants alerted me.”
“Which one? Show me.”
We bottleneck at the doorway, trying to get out into the corridor. Mrs. Lee and Mom stop and let Chef Anthony pass first. My heart sinks when Gloria heads straight for Ben.
“He’s the one.”
James tenses as Chef Anthony levels a suspicious look at him.
“Can you tell me what happened?”
“It was like that when I got here. As soon as I saw it, I let one of your students know.”
“Was anyone else here with you?”
James straightens to his full height, eyes challenging. “I was. We came in the same car.”
After a pause, Chef Anthony turns his gaze to the rest of the group.
“Did anyone see anything?”
Heads shake around him. I stare at the cousins. Are they telling the truth, or did they do this as some sort of revenge? The thought makes bile rise into my throat.
“Are there security cameras we can check?” Mrs. Lee suggests.
“We only have them at the entrances and exits. There’s never been a break-in until now.”
The contest was scheduled to begin fifteen minutes ago. Now unsettled murmurs rise from the group gathered in the hall. With Mom dazed and staring off into space, Dad takes charge.
“I think it’s best if we get things cleaned up so we can start without further delay. Chef, can you escort the contestants and their families to a different area for the time being?”
“Of course.” Chef Anthony points down the hall. “Everyone, if you’ll please follow Gloria to the auditorium.”
His student leads the crowd away. Mom, Dad, and I head inside to help clean as much of the mess as possible. Mrs. Lee volunteers to stop by the nearby grocery store for more ingredients, and Jeannie offers to go with her.
We manage to get everything swept up decently fast, replacing all the broken and dirty utensils with fresh ones. Once Jeannie and Mrs. Lee return, we distribute the ingredients based on each station’s need. Stepping back to admire our handiwork, Dad smiles.
“Anything else we might be missing?”
“Oh! The recipes for the technical challenge,” Chef Anthony notes. “The copies we made were damaged by the mess.”
“My book’s in the break room,” Mom tells him.
“Okay, I’ll just tell Gloria to bring everyone back in.”
“I can do that,” Jeannie volunteers. “That way you guys can get everything ready faster.”
“I’ll stay here, just in case,” Mrs. Lee adds.
We head in opposite directions: Jeannie to fetch the others, and the rest of us heading to the prep room. As we near, I see something move around the corner at the other end of the hall, but when I look again, there’s nothing. I shake it off and head inside behind Mom, who grabs her canvas bag off the back counter. Her face pales as she sticks a hand into it and pulls items out. Impatient, she turns the entire bag upside down. The contents tumble out unceremoniously—pens, pads of paper, her wallet, her cell phone, and some random knickknacks, but no recipe book. She glances around in a panic.
“Where’s my book? It’s supposed to be here. I swear I put it in here this morning. I even double- and triple-checked it.”
“It’s a leather notebook with a red cover,” Mom adds, voice shaking. “It has Chinese writing on the inside.”
We search high and low, but other than some dust bunnies and crumbs, there’s nothing to be found. Mom is on the verge of a meltdown, and we all know it.
“Maybe it fell out in the car,” Dad tells her. “I’ll check.”
“No, I’ll do it,” I interrupt. “You stay.”
He reaches into his pocket and tosses me the keys. I jog down the hallway and past the bakeshop. Jeannie is standing against the wall, but I don’t have time to explain.
“I’ll be right back!”
The July heat slams into me like a brick wall as I step outside. I ignore the discomfort and make my way over to the car. Despite searching every crevice, I find nothing. This is bad. This is apocalyptically bad. How am I going to break this to Mom? I decide to text Dad first. At least he’ll know how to calm her down.
I drag myself back to the prep room. As expected, Mom is in hysterics. Jeannie and Mrs. Lee have joined the others, and they’re all watching helplessly.
“Laˇo pó, are you sure you put it in your bag?” Dad is asking. “Maybe you left it at home.”
“I didn’t leave it,” she says in a stage whisper. “Someone must have taken it. Maybe that’s why the room was trashed too. What if they’re trying to ruin the contest? Ruin my reputation?”
“I’m sure that’s not the case.”
“Why is this happening to me?” She continues wailing like she didn’t hear him. “I’ve worked so hard to make this a success!”
“Don’t worry, we’ll fix this,” Dad tries again.
“Your husband’s right. I’m sure we can figure this out,” Chef Anthony adds. “Do you maybe have a backup recipe? Or we can google one.”
“No! It has to be the original recipe.” Mom sinks into a nearby chair. “Not to mention we don’t have time to get another set of ingredients.”