Page 1 of Sugar Lips
Chapter One
Elizabeth
Ithrust my hand into the bowl of eyeballs, the slimy texture making me want to gag. But thanks to all therealsets of eyes on me right now—not to mention four very attentive TV cameras—I manage to maintain my composure.
It’s just peeled grapes and gelatin, I remind myself.That’s all it is.
My fingers finally find the edge of a hard cube. I grasp it and pull it out triumphantly. The words SPELLS & POTIONS are written on it.
“Spells and potions!” announces Ben, the host of the show. He looks exactly like how you’d expect a TV host to look, tall and thin and just the right amount of handsome. “How do you feel about your pick, Elizabeth?”
I flash him a smile, remembering the instructions we got to really amp up our reactions.
“I can’t wait!” I say, even though I have no idea what I’m going to bake yet.
Ben calls the next contestant up, and I step back into line with the rest of them. There’s nine of us total competing in this year’s Halloween Bake-Off. For the most part, I like the other contestants. They’re pretty much all down-to-earth and fun to hang out with when we’re standing around waiting for the crew to set stuff up.
Thereisone contestant I’m a bit put off by, though. It’s this guy named Jackson. He’s been in a bad mood since we all showed up to film the show. Any time the camera’s not focused on him, he looks like he wants to run out of the building.
And, honestly, I find it annoying. Doesn’t he realize how many people would kill to be on this show?
It’s Jackson’s turn now to plunge his hand into the eyeball bowl and select his theme for the first baking challenge. I watch, along with everyone else, as he walks up to the bowl and rolls up his shirtsleeve. When he does, he reveals a toned forearm, and for a second—just a second—I find myself wondering what the rest of his upper body looks like beneath that shirt of his.
Then I snap out of it. I can’t let my mind wander like that. Not when so much is on the line—ten thousand dollars, to be exact. With money like that, I could help my mom pay off her medical bills and maybe even take her on a trip somewhere.
Earlier today, when I was recording my intro interview, I actually started crying on camera when I started talking about how much the prize money would mean to me. I’m sure the producers loved it, but I hated showing so much vulnerability. They let me do another take, but I’ll be so surprised if they opt for my non-crying interview.
It’s TV, after all.
Jackson pulls his hand out of the eyeball bowl and holds up his cube.
“Creepy-crawlies!” Ben announces, and shivers dramatically. “Ooh. Nice one.”
Jackson takes his place in line again and both Ben and the cameras shift positions for the next shot. It’s almost time for the baking to actually start, and my chest thrums with nerves. I’ve never done anything like this before, and I’m worried that the craziness and pressure of it is going to get to me.
My drive to win, though, is stronger.
“Bakers,” Ben says, grinning at all of us, “let me remind you again that in this first round, you must bake a total of thirty-six cookies, in a minimum of three unique varieties, all based on your selected theme, of course. You will be judged on flavor, creativity, and presentation. And you have ninety minutes…starting…now.”
Just like that, chaos erupts. Everyone runs into the pantry to grab supplies. I get elbowed three times before I make it out of there. Jesus. Talk about people’s competitive sides coming out. I still don’t know what I’m going to make, but I grab a bunch of ingredients I know I can work with. With them clutched to my chest, I hurry over to my work station.
Okay. Spells and potions. I could make cauldron cookies. And poisoned apples. And…let’s see. Little witches, I guess?
With a plan formulating in my head, I start to whip up some sugar cookie batter. It’s a recipe I could make in my sleep. It’s my mom’s recipe, actually—she’s the one who instilled a love of baking in me. As I throw together the dry ingredients and then start to cream together the butter and sugar, I think of all the times I’ve made these cookies with my mom and it helps me feel a little more at ease.
I can do this. I can win. IknowI can.
My mom was the one who talked me into applying to the competition. It’s not something I would have ever done without being strongly encouraged to do so. I’m too wrapped up in taking care of my mom these days to think about crazy things like applying to televised baking competitions.
But my mom insisted I apply. She waved away my protests about how I’d never get selected, as well as my protests about how it wasn’t practical for me to be away from her for several days.
“I’ll be fine, Lizzy,” she insisted. “Now fill out the damn application form.”
One six-page application form and four weeks later, I got a call from a producer. Everything moved quickly after that. And now here I am, standing beneath the bright lights in a studio, tasked with baking thirty-six impressive cookies while simultaneously letting my personality shine in front of the cameras.
No big deal, right?
I beat eggs and vanilla into my butter-and-sugar mixture, then gradually combine it with my flour mixture. Before long, I have a whole lot of beautiful sugar cookie dough to work with.