The Heartbreak Bakery by A. R. Capetta

Author:A. R. Capetta [Capetta, A. R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781536222371
Publisher: Candlewick Press
Published: 2021-10-14T16:00:00+00:00

When I wake up the next morning, I smell like milk.

After a quick and necessary shower, I go downstairs to find my parents and Tess perched around the little kitchen island like birds of prey, eating out of the mixing bowl with spoons.

I got in late and shoved what was left of the whipped cream to the back of the fridge, wanting to eat the rest in private and think Harley-sweetened thoughts. In my happy daze, it didn’t occur to me to label it Syd’s Only or write Do Not Eat on Pain of Death.

Big mistake.

My parents are serving each other little love-bites and cooing while my sister makes short work of a bite that’s piled nearly as high as her eyebrows. I run into the kitchen and snatch the bowl away.

The bottom of the bowl gleams back up at me. There are only a few snowy tracks of cream left.

“Please tell me you didn’t eat all of that,” I groan.

“We did!” my dad says, looking far too joyful. He swats Mom’s butt. My mom giggles and swats him back. Tess and I look at each other, deeply horrified. “All right, have to go pack.”

“Where are you two going?” I ask.

“We decided to get away for a few days,” Mom says. “Just the two of us. A spa in the Hill Country, very relaxing.” Her words are reasonable enough, but I know what this whipped cream does.

Oh. God.

I just sent my parents on a Sex Vacation.

My dad runs down the stairs with a flapping-open bag in his hands.

“We’re going to book the room while we’re on the road, which is ridiculously spontaneous of us, but we’ll let you know when we check in,” Mom says. “After that —”

“Our phones might be off,” Dad adds.

“Our phones might not work there!” she says, sounding more giddy than guilt-ridden.

Dad steps into his shoes. “But you can get us by . . .”

“You know, that other thing.” She snaps a few times. “Email!”

“You’ll be fine,” Dad decides. “You’re basically adults.”

They fly out of the house faster than I’ve seen them do anything in years. Tess is left staring at the backside of the door.

“I can’t believe I only have a week at home before I go back to Northwestern and they just left.”

I think about the power of the whipped cream, and what it might have led to if Harley and I had kept eating it instead of having the world’s most epic dairy battle. The truth is, I’m not in a hurry. I’m hungry to do more with Harley, but I also want to savor every bit of this.

Tess clears the bowl off the kitchen island. I see now that they were nominally eating the whipped cream on top of French toast, but there are only a few bites out of each piece. “At least we can hang out, right?”

“Yeah.” I switched out of a few shifts at work, so I’d have free time while she’s home. “What sort of thing are you

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