Realistic+-+Pastries+&+Possibilities

Julia Henry (7/8) April 22, 2008 Pastries and Possibilities

Maya was running. She was running to wherever her feet would take her, to No Man’s Land. Wherever that is, she thought. It was raining, but the only thing she heard was the light patter of her sneakers on the sidewalk; the only thing she felt was mud splashing on her ankles. Sighing as she reached her destination, she slowed her pace to a sluggish walk and looked for a place to sit. She curled up under the damp branches of the nearest tree, pulled her knees up to her chest and finally let the hot tears run down her face. She wasn’t going to try anymore. It wasn’t worth it, she thought, it just wasn’t.

At least no one would see her cry.

That morning, a Friday, she had been sitting, as usual, in the pink cashier’s chair at her mother’s store. Her mother owned a cupcake shop, and everything was pink, from the pink and white awning on the outside of the store to the tiny pink sprinkles on each of the cupcakes to the outside wrapping of each cupcake, where Gena’s Cupcakes was written in elegant pink script. To Maya, it was simply suffocating. She found herself overwhelmed by the large number of people that came to the store everyday. Despite the dangerous amount of pink in one location, Gena’s had the best anything, anywhere. After the humble beginning of cupcakes, Gena and her husband, Mark, expanded to cakes, and donuts, and any other pastry you can think of. Mothers and grandmothers alike flocked to the little pink store to satisfy the sweet teeth of their families. Of course, stopping for a little gossip with the proprietor, sharing secrets and commenting on the lightest cake and such was all part of the Gena’s experience. As a result of the busy lives her parents lead and the distance from school to their home above the shop, Maya was home schooled by a tutor, Mr. Hedwich. He was a very likable man, and sometimes he even told her stories about his time working as a developer at Apple, but what she really longed for was a break from this claustrophobic way of life, for friends. Every day, Maya watched the waves of people coming in. While she had “school” in the mornings, the older folks hobbled over to Gena’s. In the early afternoon, the soccer moms came. But in the late afternoon, when Ms. Gracie, the cashier, took her break, the job fell to Maya. That’s when kids her age came. That day, however, Ms. Gracie was called back to the kitchen, along with Mr. Jennings, the manager, to help with a particularly large order, and Maya was on duty earlier. Business was surprisingly slow, and her mind drifted: I was five years old when it all started to change. “… but I don’t wanna move! I don’t wanna stop going to school! I won’t eat glue anymore, Mommy, I promise!” Mom’s big, knowing eyes gave me no comfort. She wouldn’t say much, only, “I know, dear, I know.” She then turned to Dad, who was breaking the news to Eli, my seventeen year old brother. Eli’s black hair hung over his eyes, and he said nothing. I toddled over to him. “Are you sad, Eli?” I asked, too naïve to know better. “Shut up, Maya!” was his muffled response. Dad turned back to us after a few moments of conversation with Mom. He looked like the president about to make a speech. “We believe the move will help our small business bloom. With Eli going to college in a year, we can easily hire a tutor instead of paying for private schools—“ Mom broke in. “You know how we feel about public schools, don’t you, dears? And besides the nearest respectable school is towns away.” I nodded. Eli grunted. Dad wrung his hands before continuing. Eli said he’d been this nervous-looking ever since he lost his job as a realtor at Prudential. “As your mother and I will be busy with the store for quite a while, you might not see us as often. But we’d always appreciate some help around the shop!” “You’re making cupcakes,“ Eli retorted darkly. “I’m missing my senior year for cupcakes.” His face glowed with anger and resentment. “Yes, son,” Dad replied, in his that’s-final voice. I interrupted the father-son tension, which could have lasted for minutes after. “But Mommy, what about Kaitlyn and Olivia?” “You can always write them, dear” “But will I ever see them again?” “I don’t know, dear. You’ll make new friends, I promise.”

“Excuse me, I’d like to buy this.” Her thoughts were interrupted by a girl about her age, twelve. She had long, curly, blond hair that shone even in Gena’s dim light, and was wearing the school uniform of the private school two towns over, the Margaret Martin School for Girls and Boys. “Hey, your name’s Maya, right?” the girl observed, reading Maya’s nametag. She glanced back at her table, filled with other laughing sixth graders. She looked agitated. “Can you ring this up, quick?” “Uhm, sure,” Maya mumbled at the countertop. She recited the final price ($3.99), took the girl’s five dollar bill, and gave her the change and receipt (without eye contact, of course). “Thanks!” whispered the girl, gave her a wide grin and hurried back to her table. Maya smiled weakly and sighed. The girl’s name was Makayla, or so she had overheard in the many times the group had visited Gena’s. Makayla reminded her of her friend Kaitlyn from so long ago, (loud, klutzy, and always smiling) though her five-year-old memories could betray her. The Kaitlyn-like girl was accompanied by four others, two girls and two boys: Melanie, Melissa, Aiden, and Nathan, all from Margaret Martin. Melanie and Melissa were twins, and as was typical, the complete opposite of each other. In fact, the only thing they had in common were their stringy brown hair that hung flat on their heads, and a love of Gena’s specialty “Vanilla Dream” cupcake. Melanie was a baseball fan, while Melissa often quipped that “shopping was her sport”. As a result, they always had opposing views and spent most of their time trying to prove the other was wrong. Aiden was commonly recognized by his red baseball cap. He was Margaret Martin’s star soccer player, and bragged about it every chance he got and was always the class joker, slacker, and bully. Aiden was often trailed by another boy: Nathan, his next-door neighbor. Nathan was a quiet boy, who got good grades, and hid behind his large black spectacles. At the beginning of the summer before, Aiden and Nathan were best friends, and spent most of their time reading and discussing the best online game of the moment. But when Aiden went to soccer camp and returned as this, Nathan had nowhere else to go, but never thought of finding new friends. He firmly believed that the old Aiden would return. Someday.

Maya took a deep breath. She could hear Eli teasing her, “Oh, little Maya can’t even talk to a couple kids her own age!” She knew if he were here, not out of college, living on his own, he would be chatting away, or urging her on. It sure had been lonely the past six years. Her feet started walking across the pink tiles. They clicked away, in time with the beat of her heart. She found herself pulling herself a chair and sitting down next to Makayla. “…What are you doing here?” Makayla didn’t sound annoyed, only surprised and interested. “I don’t know, trying to be friendly?” Maya offered a sheepish smile. The others ignored them, as the twins were in the midst of an argument, Aiden was watching intently and Nathan didn’t talk much anyway. Slowly the attention focused on the new member of the group. “Guys, this is Maya,” announced Makayla. The twins gave hasty introductions. Aiden smirked. Nathan stared at his shoes. There was an awkward pause. “So don’t you like, work here?” drawled Aiden. “You could say that,” Maya replied, not knowing where she found the words. “My parents own the place. I’m here every afternoon.” “Yeah, I know that. What, do you think I’m stupid?”’ Maya didn’t say anything. “Shut up, Aiden,” muttered Nathan. Aiden was unapologetic as he could be. “Sorry, sorry,” he exaggerated, before continuing his barrage of questions. “So, do you like, go to Margaret?” “Nope, too far. I have a tutor.” “Oh …” His voice trailed off, but he did lean over and whisper, loudly, to Melissa, “I bet she can’t afford it.” She giggled, but then whispered back, just as loud, “Shut up, she might hear you!” Maya’s cheeks burned. She couldn’t look any of them in the eye, couldn’t say a word. She could feel Aiden’s grin on her back as she opened the door and ran off into the rain. She couldn’t forget the last thing he said. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I actually was talking to such a loser!” She also couldn’t forget the sound of the twins’ identical laughter, high and screeching. Maya tried to bury her head even further into her hands, to no avail. No rain could wash away the hurt she felt. Suddenly there was a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, Maya. You alright?” It was Nathan, followed by Makayla. “I know Aiden’s kind of a jerk,” he began, but saw her gloomy stare. “Okay, scratch that. He is a jerk. He shouldn’t have done that to you.” Maya said nothing, but her face said that whatever he was saying was nothing new to her. “What we are trying to say,” Makayla added, giving Nathan a friendly shove aside and offering Maya a hand, “is that we’ve realized that we seriously need a new way of picking our friends—we need new ones all together!” “The second you left, the manager—Mr. Jennings, right?—burst out of the kitchen. Turns out he’d been watching us the whole time! We started following you, but not before we saw him kick Aiden and the twins out for good!” Nathan laughed. “You should have seen it!’ As she scrambled to her feet, Maya’s eyes had a glimmer of hope in them. “So, how about some ice cream? I’ll race you!” Makayla challenged. Maya grinned devilishly. “Why not? I’ll leave you two in the dust—oh wait, mud—anyway!”