Читать книгу Cupcakes and Glitter Shakes - Lisa Clark - Страница 7

“Lo-Lo, it’ll be fine,” Bella assures me as we whizz at a hundred miles per hour (well, it feels like it anyway!) along the promenade on her brand new Chopper bike. It shouldn’t be cool because it’s a total throwback from the 1970’s, but with its black and hot pink piping, coloured ribbons and feathers attached to the handlebars that flap and blow the faster we go, it was totally hipster cool, just like her.

“Sades will be fine, and as for Angel…” Bella shouts in my ear as we pass the funfair, “it’s just hard for you two. You’re so used to having spent all your time together as kids, that now, when you’re apart, you both just get your weird on!”

I was sitting on the metal bar in front of Bella, with my flip-flop feet outstretched in front of me and my candyfloss pink coloured hair whipping my face in the wind, it was all I could do to stay on board let alone answer. Instead, I let the salty sea air tangle up my pink tresses, the smell of hot dogs and fried onions fill my nostrils and the strain of some cheesy 80s pop star provide the soundtrack to my beach ride with Bella.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Sadie sing-songs as she answers the door to us. She’s wearing a baby blue apron with big floral print and she’s licking cake mix from her finger.

“Mmmm, delish!” she informs us. “Angel and I already have a batch in the oven, so they’ll be ready for frosting soon!” Sadie throws me a little wink, as she knows that hands down, frosting is by far my most favourite part of Cupcake Bake. Well, besides the actual taste testing part obviously, but surely that goes without saying, right?

“When she says ‘we’, what she actually means is ‘she’!” says Angel coming at me with open arms. “Do I look like I could whip up cupcakes? Seriously, do I?” she asks.

Her hugs were the most familiar and comforting hugs in the whole wide world. When Matthew Mavin tied my plaits to the chair in year three, it was an Angel hug that made it better. When the Mothership and the dad dude used to argue, which, FYI, was a LOT, it was an Angel hug that made it better. She was really rather good at them. She was also really rather good at throwing an outfit together, although whether this particular ensemble was Cupcake Bake appropriate, I’m not too sure. Not that Angel would altogether care, she’s not one for being appropriate, just well dressed.

Her fro is tied back with an adorable purple head scarf, she’s wearing a yellow velour track top and cut off denim short shorts, there’s no denying she looks fab, which is why I’m guessing she’s refusing to put on the apron that Sadie is holding out for her.

“Thanks Sadie-cakes,” Angel says, running her finger around the mixing bowl and popping the contents in her mouth, “but I’ll be just fine as I am!” She pulls herself up onto one of the kitchen stools and turns her attention to Bella.

“B, I am loving that totally-of-the-moment look you’ve got going on right there!”

Bella, who gives Angel a big bear hug, is now accustomed to Angel talking like she’s an actual page from a swanky fashion magazine, and responds accordingly.

“Why thank you, Miss Angel, this is what I like to call my Minnie Mouse-inspired outfit—frilly skirt from Topshop, a vintage halter and a faux diamond watch I won in a art competition!”

Angel nods in approval, pleased that Bella at least entertains her passion for the fashion deets.

“Yay—glitter shakes!” Bella exclaims, turning her attention from fashion reports to the pink and purple container sat on the kitchen table. She empties the edible sparkliness into the palm of her hand.

“I freakin’ love this stuff!” she says pushing and poking it around her hand with the tip of her tongue.

“Me too,” Sadie agrees and does exactly the same. “In fact, when I become a hugely successful fashion designer, I’m going to call my customised collection, Glitter Shakes by Sadie—what d’ya think? “We all nod with approval and give Sadie an enthusiastic thumbs up. We’d express our excitement through words, except we’ve all got our mouths full with either glitter shakes, cake mix or in my case, pink frosting.

This stuff is just too, too good.

“So, Lo,” Angel says swallowing the remainder of an unfrosted cupcake (which in my opinion is a complete waste of a cupcake). “I want to hear all about this internship of yours!”

As I add far too much pink colouring to the frosting I’m whipping up, my belly does a full 180 flip of excitement as I tell her all the plans for tomorrow’s all-about-me adventure.

Tori Frankel, ed-girl of fabulousness, had emailed me back with directions to the office—it was literally a minute’s walk from the train station, a starting time of 10am and had signed off the email with ‘You’re adorable Lola Love, see you Monday!’

Eep. She seriously makes me do silent squeals of filled-to-the-brim joy. A total doll.

In the meantime, Aunt Lullah had made sure I had all Skye’s details—mobile number, email address, home address—which made me swell with complete happiness too, because even though Lullah was super-busy and super-important doing all things costume on film sets in NYC, she still made time, no matter what, to look out for me.

“I can’t believe you’ve actually made this happen—you’re amazing!” Angel says reaching out to touch my arm.

“Well technically, Miss Angel,” I say, still mixing hard at the frosting and doing everything within my power not to lick it all up in one gulp, “Aunt Lullah made it happen, she’s totally magic!”

“Okay, hold up Lola Love,” Angel holds out her palm in front of my face. “Sure, Lullah rocks, that’s f’sure, and she might well have hooked you up with somewhere to stay, but you’re the one that created a kick-ass zine, you’re the one that made sure it got into the hands of your very own inspir-o-girl, you’re the one that knocked her very-expensive-I’m-sure socks off. YOU, Lola Love.”

Wow.

I did, didn’t I?

“What’s that saying you’ve got pinned to your mirror, Lo?” Angel asks, “Something like, ‘we are our thoughts, make them good ones’, isn’t it?” She was close, and I really didn’t realise that anyone else had ever really noticed them.

“Well, you thought about being a journo-girl, you, Lola Love and with the help of the people who dig you, you’ve made it happen, and that’s totally kick-ass—high five!”

We slap hands, and all do a collective high five while we sing and dance along to The Pipettes, an official Cupcake Bake soundtrack staple.