Page 72 of Poison Apple Crisp
The girls turn around at the very same time and flip up the back of their skirts, effectively mooning the crowd with their barely there underwear, and I gasp at the horror. But the boys all around us—they belt out a cheer of their own, of primal approval.
“Lemon?” Everett’s voice is tight. “I don’t see kick pants.” His voice booms as he parts the sea of high school boys, causing them to all but scatter.
“Dad!” Evie snaps. “You’re ruining everything!”
I’m about to join the effort to ruin things when I spot my older look-alike stuffed into one of these ridiculous French maid’s uniforms.
“Carlotta? What in the hell are you doing?” I wail as I latch onto her shoulders. “Are you insane?”
“Come on, Lot,” she whines. “This is our debut. Find another bush to entertain the mister in. This is our space.”
“Your space to do what?”
Evie scoffs as she folds her arms across her chest tightly, and I can’t help but notice the way she’s bulging out of her top.
“Okay, fine,” Evie huffs. “I give up. You win, Dad.”
“Don’t do it!” Carlotta lifts a finger. “You’ll ruin everything we worked for. All those hours at Red Sa—”
She stops cold, but both Everett and I glower at her.
“You were about to say Red Satin, weren’t you?” I gasp. “You took these girls there to learn dicey dance moves! No wonder Lainey thought you’d need permission slips. What in the heck is going on here?”
Evie holds up a hand to Carlotta. “I’m sorry, Cray-Cray, but Mom’s too good of a detective. I might as well spill it. Carlotta dreamed up this whole idea of cheer after dark. Hot uniforms and even hotter moves. We only perform at parties.” She looks to Everett. “So far we’re booked for three. We’re already making a killing, Dad. You don’t want to shoot down my very first business venture, do you?”
He gives a long blink. “Consider yourself unbooked. Your dirty dancing career ends tonight.”
Evie clucks her tongue. “I hate everything.” She plucks her hair out of her ponytail with an aggressive yank. “Come on, Dash. Let’s go change.” She stalks off and links arms with her blonde bestie. “At least we still have cheer.”
Everett growls as he looks to Carlotta, and I lift a finger.
“Allow me,” I say.
All the way home I give Carlotta a piece of my mind.
I wish I could say that she’ll never pull a stunt like that again, but I’m pretty much a realist when it comes to her and her harebrained shenanigans.
Carlotta is going to be Carlotta, and for as long as she’s in my life, things are going to get a little Cray-Cray.
Chapter 19
The end of September ushers in every bit of fall’s splendor—the bold red and orange maple leaves raining down over our world, the crisp air, the scent of apple cider warming our senses, and the overall jovial atmosphere it sponsors. Of course, it’s ten times more magnified here at the Grand Apple Orchard that sits on the outskirts of Honey Hollow.
Evie changed her mind about having a few friends over at Everett’s place once she realized we weren’t about to let her have the house to herself. Instead, she opted for something a little roomier that could fit every student at Honey Hollow High and then some—the Apple Orchard itself.
It’s early evening on the last Friday of September, the exact day that Everly Baxter turns sweet sixteen, and just about everyone who’s anyone in Honey Hollow is here to celebrate the big day. The sky is welted with dark purple clouds that seem to be boiling overhead as if they were percolating in a cauldron, but we’re not paying them any mind at the moment. This evening isn’t just Evie’s birthday. It’s the official fall kickoff here at the orchard. There are bounce houses, and trampolines, dunk booths, rows and rows of carnival games with loads of cheap but adorable prizes, candy apples, caramel apples, a cider press, and there’s even a face-painting station where Evie and all of her friends have spent the last twenty minutes disguising themselves as every animal known to man.
But now it’s time for Evie’s cake, as her friends and all of those who love her gather around and we sing to her at top volume.
The cake is a three-tiered pink wonder, covered with glitter. The top tier has an iridescent unicorn horn sticking out of it at an angle, and there are large holographic looking eyes adhered to the second tier. Evie helped me designed it, and she even helped me decorate it. And the best part? She said she enjoyed the process.
I hope to spend much more time with her in the kitchen in the future. Nothing would please me more. I’ve also provided every cookie, cupcake, and sweet treat you can imagine for tonight’s event, along with a few of my beer-battered pickles, of course.
We finish up with the song and Evie does her best to blow out the candles, and once a plume of smoke envelops the cake, the crowd lets out a raucous cheer.
Meg is playing the part of photographer tonight and is kindly documenting the entire event. She says she wants to make a scrapbook for Evie’s sixteenth birthday, the same way our mother did for us.
Cressida hops up next to Evie just as Meg snaps another shot, and Evie promptly pushes the blonde’s face into the cake.