Read Confectionately Yours #1: Save the Cupcake! for Free Online Page B

hurl.
    She twists in her seat to give me a big smile, flashing white teeth and red lipstick. “I’ve never been apple picking,” she says.
    “You’ll love it!” This is Chloe, who is beaming at Annie.
    What’s wrong with you? I wonder, glaring at my sister. She’s so shy around kids her age — why is she being so friendly to this random person?
    “I think it’s so hilarious that Americans do this for fun,” Annie says. “Where I’m from, we leave this sort of thing to laborers!” Then she laughs like someone who’s just taken a class in how to laugh — head thrown back and hahahaha!
    Wow. I didn’t realize it was possible for me to like her less than I did two minutes ago, but I do.
    “Where are you from?” Chloe asks.
    Oh, jeez, Chloe, who cares? I want to tell her, but I just cock my head and try to act fascinated.
    “My family is from Thailand. We came to America when I was twelve.” She runs her long red fingernails through her glossy black hair. Who does she think she is? I wonder, eyeing her elegant outfit. A supermodel? She looks really young to me, like ten years younger than Dad. Maybe people will think we’re out with our dad and our babysitter. I hope.
    “You don’t have an accent,” Chloe notes.
    “Thank you.”
    Even that irks me. My grandmother has an accent. Mr. Malik has an accent. What’s wrong with an accent? Nothing!
    I guess Annie has noticed that I’m not contributing to the conversation, because she turns to me and says, “So, Hayley — do you have any crushes on boys?” She smiles, like we’re best friends at a slumber party.
    “No.”
    More uncomfortable silence. After a minute, Annie asks Chloe what her favorite subject is, and for a while they chat happily about science. Dad volunteers, “Hayley’s favorite subject is English.”
    Not true, but I don’t argue.
    “What’s your favorite book?” Annie asks.
    “I like a lot of books.” The end. And … silence. Yay. It’s like we’re starting a silence collection.
    Finally, Dad pulls into the dirt driveway at Stone’s Throw Farm, and we get out of the car.
    “Oh, how charming,” Annie says as she looks at the farm stand.
    My dad walks over to her, and she slips her hand into his.
    I grab two half-peck baskets and hand one to Chloe. The guy at the farm stand — apple-cheeked and Mohawked — smiles at me and says that the Empires are ready, so I head down the hill. Chloe runs ahead and dances down a path between McIntosh trees.
    “Why don’t you guys just wait up here?” I snap. I know my voice is harsh, but I don’t want them with us. I never should have said yes to apple picking.
    Annie looks hurt, and my dad’s face gets stern. “Go ahead, Hayley,” he says. “We’re right behind you.” Dad takes a basket, too, and he and Annie slowly start to totter down the hill after us. I guess the four-inch heels aren’t seeming like such a great idea to her now.
    It rained last night, and my sneakers squelch over the muddy grass as I follow Chloe to the Empires. These are my favorite apples — they’re an heirloom variety, very small and sweet. Not many people grow them.
    I hear someone cry out behind me, and I turn to see Annie clutching at Dad, one of her heels buried completely in the mud. Annie tries to pull her foot up, but her toes pop out of the shoe, and the heel stays stuck in the ground. She takes another step forward and the other heel sinks into the mud.
    I feel myself smile a smug little smile. I’m horrible, but I can’t help it. Dad reaches down to pull out the shoe, and the heel breaks off.
    My dad scowls at me. “Hayley! Get over here and help!” Like it’s my fault!
    I have no idea what he thinks I can do, but I obey. Chloe comes dashing out of the trees and takes in the situation. She looks at Annie’s red face and her glistening eyes, and says, “Oh, Annie, your beautiful shoes!” She runs over to give Annie a hug.
    Annie stands there in stocking feet, my sister’s arms