Page 93 of Delicious

Sweet On You

Colette Davison

ChapterOne

Cameron

Ibrowse social media apps on my phone while I wait for the school bell. Since I became the responsible adult in the house, I’ve made sure to be here at least five minutes early. Me. Responsible for taking care of my ten-year-old brother while our dad is away with work. I’m still wrapping my head around it. Hopefully, I’m doing a good job. Dad wasn’t keen on the arrangement—he thinks it’s a lot of responsibility for a twenty-five-year-old—but Elliott didn’t want to get dragged to Hong Kong for six months. Dad’s been away for a month, and the two of us are doing just fine. Dad checks in whenever he can, and his best friend, Euan, is next door if we need anything.

Euan. I go weak at the knees just thinking about him. If only he’d been my drama teacher when I was in secondary school. His son, Peter, is the same age as Elliott. They’re best friends, and because I’m an awesome guy, I’ve been picking Peter up after school so he and Elliott can hang out until Euan gets home from work. Getting to drool—I meansee—Euan five evenings a week has nothing to do with it. Nothing at all.

The shrill bell rings. The teacher opens year six’s cloakroom door, and the kids rush out. Now they’re in year six, the teacher doesn’t wait until they’ve spotted a child’s parent or guardian to let them go. At least half of the kids in Elliott and Peter’s class walk home alone now.

Elliott and Peter slam into me in their enthusiasm to hug me. Elliott waves a letter.

“Woah, slow down there.” I pat them on the back.

“Bake sale. You’ll make cupcakes, won’t you?” Elliott asks.

“Cupcakes?”

“Yeah. Everyone’s parents are being asked to make cakes.”

“Or buy them,” Peter says.

Elliott rolls his eyes. “That’s cheating. Besides, you can bake cupcakes, can’t you, Cam?”

“Uh—” I stare at him, wide-eyed.

Elliott nudges Peter in the ribs with his elbow.

“Dad could help. You could team up and bake them together,” Peter says.

Now, there’s an idea.

“Won’t your dad be too busy?”

“Nah, he’s got a teacher training day on Monday.”

”Won’t he have to?—?”

“—Work? Nah. It’s disaggre-something,” Peter says.

I raise my eyebrows. “Disaggregated?”

“That’s it. They do three evening sessions and get to take a day off.”

“But we’ll be at school. So we won’t get in your way.” Elliott gives me a butter-wouldn’t-melt smile.

A whole day baking cupcakes with Euan. Sounds fun. Not that making it happen is as simple as they’re making out.

“I have clients on Monday.” I’m a mobile hairdresser. I love it, and I get to work whatever hours I want, which has been perfect for picking the boys up from school.

“Cancel them,” Elliott says.

I laugh. “Just like that?”

“Yes.”

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