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me.
    â€œYou said to package them up,” Briana says.
    â€œNot one in each bag,” I say. But when I think back, I realize I didn’t actually tell her how many to put inside. I was so busy rushing off to help Chef Ryan that I guess I didn’t finish explaining the directions. Oops.
    Cherie sighs. “No problem. We’ll simply have to redo them.” And I can tell that by “we” she means me. Then her face brightens. “Anyhoo, I have to go make some phone calls. I don’t want to say anything yet, but if all goes well, I’ll have some great news to share soon!”
    â€œOh joy,” Briana says, rolling her eyes. Clearly, baking news doesn’t excite her, but I’m dying to know what Cherie is talking about. Before I can bombard her with questions though, she flashes us a smile and disappears into the back office.
    â€œOkay, I guess we should open all these up and redo them,” I say, grabbing a couple of the nearly empty cookie bags.
    â€œHow about you do that and I’ll supervise?” Briana says. “You don’t want me to do them wrong and then blame it on you again, do you?” Then she flashes me a fake smile and goes back to tapping away on her phone.
    Ugh. Once a princess, always a princess. I have no choice but to get to work.

Chapter 4
    When I get home from work, Mom is waiting for me with an episode of Pastry Wars already queued up on the TV. After I was in a bake-off this summer, Mom got really into watching food competitions. She even recorded a bunch of episodes of Pastry Wars while I was in Florida so that we could watch them together. It’s funny that before my dad left, Mom and I seemed so different from each other that we could barely have a conversation. Now, I feel closer to her than I do to pretty much anyone else.
    â€œAny news yet?” she asks, and I know she means about the show.
    I shake my head. “I’ve been checking my email all day, but nothing yet.”
    Mom sighs. “Okay then, talk to me,” she says as we settle in on the couch and start nibbling on dinner, some leftover spinach and shallot quiche that I made the other day. “How was the first day?”
    I tell her about how I spent most of it wandering around totally lost and how I barely saw Evan or Marisol or anyone else I know.
    Mom pats my hand. “You’ll adjust to it all soon enough. Don’t worry.” She picks up the TV remote. “I can’t wait to watch this episode! They’re supposed to make cookies that you can stack like Legos. Isn’t that wild? And Chip is wearing dark blue in this one. You know how much I love him in blue!”
    I swallow a bite of quiche. “And, um, Dad was there today.”
    She looks at me. “At your school?”
    â€œHe brought me lunch this morning, said he didn’t want to miss my first day.” Her reaction means she had no idea he was back in town. I shouldn’t be too surprised. Knowing Dad, he probably decided to move and had his bags packed and his plane ticket booked all in the span of a day. He’s always been kind of impulsive that way.
    â€œWell,” Mom says. “Well.” Clearly, she’s a little stunned. I guess she didn’t really believe that he would come back either. At least not so soon. Maybe Dad’s trying to reinvent himself like I am.
    Then my phone tells me I have a new email, and I forget all about my dad. All I can do is stare at the email titled: “Your Pastry Wars: Teen Edition Application.” Oh my goldfish. It’s here!
    â€œOpen it, open it, open it,” Mom chants when I tell her.
    Finally, with shaking hands, I open the email and start reading.
    Dear applicant,
    Thank you for your interest in being on Pastry Wars: Teen Edition . While we think you have a lot of talent, we cannot offer you a spot on this season’s show. We wish you the best of luck in your baking endeavors, and we encourage you