“Mom I’ve finally got one!”
“Great Pi, give me the details,” my mom laughed.
“I was thinking a cookie cake kind of cupcake. You know like the cookie cakes at Mrs. Field’s that I got for my birthday last year? I could do a chocolate and vanilla marble cupcake with chocolate chip cookie bits smashed into the batter, with chocolate frosting, chocolate chip cookie bits sprinkled on top, and a mini cookie cake ganache with the words Piper’s Cookie Cake written on it. I think it would be great for the contest. Don’t you think? I mean all the other contestants will only be focusing on the designs and not necessarily the flavor. I think it’s a winner.”
“Piper Foster, ditching creativity for flavor? That’s sure rare,” my mom smiled.
“Yeah I know, but I’m thinking that maybe creativity isn’t all it takes, right? Well, I’m gonna go take this idea over to Ava. I’m sure she’s gonna love it. Maybe give me some feedback too, you know the usual,” I said.
“Alright but bring your coat. It’s cold outside!” my mom shouted.
The air was cold and brisk as New York weather normally was. The gravelly road crunched beneath my Doc Martens. I reached my hand toward the center of the door and knocked a gentle three knocks, as the door swung open.
“Piper! What are you doing out there? It’s so cold out!” Ava exclaimed.
“Well, I finished a new cupcake idea and I think it’s one of my bests. Would you revise it for me? I’m entering in the East Atlantic Baking Contest and I think that it might be a winner!” I said excitedly.
“Wait. The East Atlantic Baking Contest? I was entering in that too…” Ava protested.
“Oh, well that’s great! I can help you on your idea too if you want! Maybe with our beyond amazing skills the judges will be so blown away that there will have to be two winners!” I laughed.
“Listen Pipe, you’re a great baker and all that but I really just wanted to enter this one and let the judges see my talents too. You already get enough praise with your grandmother being a well known baker, and honestly I think it’s my time for once,” Ava mumbled in an annoyed tone.
I could feel my face heat up in flames. Part of me knew it was true. That I already got a lot of attention in my work because of my grandmother, but did Ava really have to say that? I was really creative too, wasn’t I? Realizing I hadn’t spoken yet, I spat out the words coldly. “Alright then, have a nice rest of your dally deep down I knew how great I was. Baking was the one thing that I wasn’t ashamed to be proud of myself on. I knew my ideas were brilliant, and original, I must say. On the other hand, if I wanted to be a complete jerk, I could be. A big one. “What if I post a youtube video with a tutorial and background on my baking? I could get my mom’s coworkers and my grandmother’s experienced baking friends to check it out. And plus, if my grandmother’s gonna see it, it’s gonna be big. I’ll prove Ava. Prove how much better I am. Prove that I will win that contest. Her cupcakes will be crushed so bad against mine, the icing is gonna fall right off,” I thought to myself.
The walk home was filled with thoughts. Deep thoughts about revenge, cupcakes, and crushing Ava’s so called “creativity”. My burning hot face started to cool down as the wind blew against it. I realized my hands were still clenched in fists, and I calmly relaxed them, opening up my palms and letting the cold breeze wash over them. As I opened my front door, I saw my grandma rocking in her chair in the far corner of the room, sipping her tea. “Hey Gran,” I said, relieved to see her.
“Piper, sweetheart! Where were you?”
“Mom didn’t tell you? I was at Ava’s to have her revise my idea for that contest I was going to enter in, only to have her tell me that I should let off on this one and let her do it. She thinks I’ll outshine her,” I scoffed.
“Aw honey, it’s alright, you already know what a great baker you are. Take it as a compliment, she know’s how good you are and is just requesting a chance from you. I’m sure you’ll find another way to get your cupcake craze out to the world.”
“Oh, right! I was gonna ask you if you know where Mom’s old video camera is. I have an idea.”
“More ideas huh? That brain of yours is a working factory itself. The camera is over in the attic.”
“Great, thanks Grandma!” I said, happily jumping up off of the sofa.
The old red video camera stared back at me, behind dusty boxes. “Here it is,” I thought to myself. I reached forward and took it off the shelf. I took a deep breath. “This is it,” I said to myself. Deciding a tripod was unnecessary, I picked the little camera up, and walked to the kitchen before setting it on the counter. I turned on the camera and it started recording. My video began with a nervous, “Hi! I’m Piper Foster, a baker who would love to have her dreams fulfilled.” I reset the tape. Too cheesy. Not good enough. “Hi I’m Piper Foster, my grandmother is Susan Foster, a well known baker.” Ugh. Too show- offy. “I’m Piper Foster and baking is one of my passions. I’ve always dreamed of following in my grandmother’s footsteps, which is why I am here, making this video.” This time I didn’t stop the tape. As I continued talking on about my creative mind, and why I love baking so much, I felt really confident. I knew this would prove Ava wrong. “And now I’m am gonna show you all a demonstration on my famous smores cupcakes that I am known for,” I said, aloud to the camera. I got out my baking pans and began whipping the batter around, layering the crushed graham crackers on top of the mini cakes. When I was finally done, I reached forward towards the camera to turn it off, with a short little wave. I sat there for a few mins, smiling. I knew this would hit it big on YouTube. I turned on my laptop and exported the video onto the desktop, and then uploaded it on to YouTube. I watched the numbers for “time remaining” go down. I waited for about thirty minutes before it finally uploaded. My stomach churned, filled with butterflies. “There it is! It’s up there, ready for the world to see. I’m gonna be famous. I’ll show Ava how much better I am,” I squealed. I refreshed the page. Over and over and over. Not one view, besides mine, of course. I shut down the browser and pulled it back up again. Refresh, refresh, refresh. Still nothing. I thought about it, and after awhile, decided it would be better to not be so impatient. So I closed my computer and decided to make some cookies, and maybe catch up on my Netflix.
The bright warming sun woke me up as it shined across my face. “The video! I almost forgot!” I said aloud to myself. I ran down the carpeted stairs in my pajamas, and flopped on the couch, opening up the Youtube browser, to search my video. As I clicked on it, I saw the same scary number that I saw yesterday. Five. Just five views. Not to mention, 5 views that were all mine. I sighed aloud, disappointed. Knowing that I should never give up, I decided to wait one more day. At 11:00 P.M I decided that this would be my final check. “Alright here we go. One last check. Please, please, please, please, please.” I refreshed the page, and-! Great. Six views. I shrieked aloud, “UGHHH”
“Piper! Be quiet! Grandma is trying to sleep! Have some consideration,” my mom whispered forcefully. I rolled my eyes, knowing she wouldn’t see me with my back facing her. Angry, I stomped upstairs, not caring whether I woke anyone up or not. I layed in my bed, staring up at the ceiling, with tears streaming down my face. I really did think it would work. I thought miracles came true. But I guess I was wrong. Reality suddenly hit me. It didn’t matter if my mom got her co workers to share it, or my grandmother got her baking friends to see it. Fame doesn’t work that way. It just happens. By luck. And boy, I was sure not getting the luck I had hoped. Feeling bad about what had just happened, I went to apologize to my mom, giving her a kiss goodnight and a hug.
“Good night Pipe. I love you,” she said. I gave her one last hug and left to go back to my room. I crawled into my bed beneath the warm covers, and turned off the light, hoping to get a decent amount of sleep tonight, when a thought hit me. “Why should I let Ava control what I do? I can make my own decisions.” I smiled a mischievous smile and closed my eyes.
When I woke up, I already knew it was gonna be a great day. “Hey mom can you send me the link to the East Atlantic Baking Contest?”
“Grandma told me you decided to not enter. Why the sudden change?”
“It’s nothing,” I said quickly, so she wouldn’t be suspicious. “Just a change of plans.”
“Alright, hold on.” I saw the notification come up as a text from mom. I clicked the link, and was about to fill out the form when I paused, remembering Ava’s brilliant idea she shared with me weeks ago. She told me that if there were gonna be any contests coming up she would for sure enter it. “After all Ava’s done to me, I think I deserve to give her some dirt, right?” I thought to myself. “If you really think about it, Ava was super jealous.” I laughed to myself. “How desperate is she? This crappy human thinks she can control me, when my whole life, all I did was be kind to her. She had said that it was her time for once and if you think about it, it is. Time to be pushed into reality, that not all friends will be willing to let you take advantage of them, I mean. Not all friends are always gonna let you get what you want.
I began filling out the form starting at the top. Name: Piper Foster. Where you are from: Brooklyn, New York. Judge Request? None. Cupcake name/description: Pineapple Turnover. Delicious, classic pineapple turnover cupcakes with a decoration of pineapple snowmen.  Proud of myself for my accurate memorization, I giggled under my breath, too excited to see the look on Ava’s face when she saw I took her idea.
“Piper! It's already 9:30! Get in the shower and get going or you're gonna be late!” It was December 18th, the day of the contest. I hadn’t spoken to Ava since I stormed out from her house that day. I was ready for the revenge. I grabbed my cupcake tray, decorated with little snowmen. Even the tray would already be better than Ava’s. As excited as I was, I still had a sick, nervous feeling to my stomach and my legs were weak. “This is it, this is it, this is it.” I thought to myself.
When we arrived, the place was packed. Thousands and thousands of cupcakes were displayed amongst the tiny room. I squealed when I saw Erin Mota, my favorite baker of all time. I couldn’t believe she was judging! In the corner of my eye, I saw Ava, talking to judge I wasn’t familiar with. They seemed very happy so see each other. Before I could think it through anymore, my thoughts were cut off by a booming voice.
“Ladies, gentlemen, all bakers. Thank you for joining us in the East Atlantic Baking Contest. As you may already know, the East Atlantic Baking Contest is a pretty big deal for  young bakers like yourselves, who have dreams to fulfill.”  I started to get a feeling of guilt in my stomach. I wasn’t sure why, but the sentence, “The East Atlantic Baking Contest is a pretty big deal for young bakers like yourselves, who have dreams to fulfill,” really stuck with me. I glanced over and saw Ava’s face in horror, staring at the tray of cupcakes I was holding. I tried give her a “look at me, here I am at the contest with your cupcake idea. Because I can,” look. But all I felt was more guilt. I turned away so she wouldn’t see my nervous face. About 30 minutes passed before I heard the woman speak again. “Calling all bakers participating in the contest. Please pick up your trays if you have them already, and when you come up here, you are going to say your name, where you are from, and the kind of cupcake you have presented to us.”
The names and descriptions said aloud by the seventy or so contestants seemed to drag on forever, when finally it was my turn. I walked up the stage to shake the lady’s hand, careful not to trip and fall.
“Hi, I’m Piper Foster,” I began. I heard some gasps in the room knowing I was Susan Foster’s granddaughter. I smiled a gentle one, to show my innocence. “The cupcakes I have here today are these classic Pineapple Turnover Cupcakes. I decorated it with snowmans made of pineapple, and even decorated the tray with mini snowmen for Christmas.” I saw looks of interest and delight spread across the room, and I even had a small spasm when Erin Mota glanced at me and gave me a silent applaud. I looked around the room searching for Ava to see what her reaction was. “Where is she?” I thought. I scanned the room three more times, before the woman escorted me off the stage.
Several contestants were after me, but not Ava. Clearer than ever, I heard the announcer say, “Ava Lively”. Nothing. The lady looked around the room, searching for anyone that was getting up. She said it again even louder this time. “Ava Lively? Do we have an Ava Lively?” I began to get worried. Where’d she go? “Ava Lively? Please say something, Ava, if you are here. Going once, going twice. Okay, I guess there’s no Ava Lively. Sorry for the mistake.”
I set my tray down and began jogging across the room, searching every nook and cranny. Maybe she left. I really hoped she didn’t. Eventually, there was only one more place to look. The bathroom. I opened the door as silently as possible, hoping it wouldn’t creak. I was about to leave, assuming she had just left the contest, when I heard weeping in the third stall. I looked down and saw Ava’s black combat boots. “Ava?” I said. No response. “Ava, please talk to me. It’s Piper.”
“Hey P-piper,” she stuttered.
“Please come out,” I said.
“No. I r-ruined everything out there I lost my chance! I d-disappointed the judges, it’s all g-gone.” Knowing she wasn’t gonna come out I decided to go in. I crawled underneath the stall and gave her a hug.“I’m s- sorry Pipe. I didn’t mean to hurt you like that. It’s j-just that your s-such an amazing baker.”
“It’s alright, I should be the one apologizing. Calm down, it’s gonna be alright. And, as mad as I am at myself for stealing your idea, I did kind of present it for you, and let me just say, the judges absolutely loved it. It was great Ava.”
“I love you Pi, th-thank you for everything.”
“No need to thank me. Now let's go out there and get that award that I know you are gonna win.” I slowly dragged her out, helping her wipe the tears away.
We walked past the crowd ignoring the people staring at us, right as the announcer started to speak. “And now, what you’ve all been waiting for. The winner of this year’s 2015 East Atlantic Baking Contest is... Blair Michaels! Congratulations! You can come get your certificate after I finish the honors.” The crowd starting cheering wildly.
“Yours didn’t win, but honestly, in my opinion we both were the winners,” I stated to Ava.
“I agree. But here’s a little tip for you Pipe. Next time, use your own ideas. My ideas aren't gonna win you anything. Only yours. The best will.”
“Aw, that’s not true, but I will take you up on the using my own ideas part.” We both laughed and I pulled her into a hug, wrapping my arms tightly around her.