My pie was ruined. Wrecked. A disaster.
So much for that perfect score.
“Oh, no! What happened? Did it burn?” Sarah gasped in horror at my pie still steaming on the tabletop as she turned from checking on her own in the little oven next to mine. With a slight shrug of her shoulders, she made a disappointed sigh. “I should’ve warned you not to leave your post. I had the feeling something bad would happen. That’s what happens when we get careless.”
Something about her condescending tone set my hackles off. But I had no time to address it. Ms. Gentry was in front of the tables again, fixing all of us with a firm frown.
“Just a few minutes remaining, ladies. Please bring your pies to the judging table for your marks.”
With adrenaline racing through my veins, I snatched a fork from my supply bag and quickly began scraping off the burnt top of my pie. Maybe the awful flavor hadn’t reached all the way down to the crust. If I could salvage what was left of it, I might still get a decent score.
I did what I could to save it. It was like a pie ICU. I could practically hear the vital monitors beeping in the background, warning me of impending death if I didn’t move quickly. An artful swirl of whipped cream on the top was the last touch I could think of to distract from the mess I’d made on top of my beautiful pie. With a nervous smile, I delivered the dish to the judging table and stood back to watch the boys eat.
“How’d you do?” Geminia appeared at my elbow, still sporting some flour on her nose and cheeks.
I dragged the tips of my fingers down over my face. “Somehow, I scorched it. I don’t even know how it happened. I was so careful with my timer. Now, I’m just hoping I took off enough of the burnt part so they don’t give me last place.”
A little line appeared between her eyes as she frowned. “Did you set the right temp?”
“Yes, of course.” I gestured over my shoulder at the oven. “Three hundred and twenty-five, just like the recipe said...”
But when my eyes landed on the oven that was still on, it didn’t say three hundred and twenty-five degrees. It was at four fifty. Way higher than on my mom’s recipe card.
“Uh, oh.” Geminia was frowning at the oven, too. “I sense sabotage...and it smells like a burnt pie.”
Rage broiled in my stomach. It was no wonder Sarah’s comments had set me off. She’d messed with my oven. She’d burned my pie. And now, she was going to win the competition with her nauseating little heart-covered cinnamon apple pie. It was so wrong, I almost wanted to vomit right then and there.
“She can’t do this.” I took a step forward, as the guys began to taste the first pie. “It isn’t right.”
Geminia’s hand wrapped around my wrist, gently pulling me back. “You can’t do this here, Charlotte.”
I resisted her tug and took another step in Sarah’s direction. “Why? Everyone lets her get away with everything. She needs to fess up for once.”
“You know Ms. Gentry wouldn’t approve and you’d lose even more points.” I looked back at her and her brown eyes drilled into mine with compassion. “Come on, let’s bide our time and get our own kind of revenge. What do you say?”
As crazy mad as Sarah’s deception made me feel, it was nice to have Geminia unquestioningly backing me. The girls I’d hung out with this year had always taken Sarah’s side. Now, I didn’t feel so alone.
“Right. You’re right. Some other time.”
I crossed my arms and glared at the back of Sarah’s perfect head of hair. The boys were digging into her pie and making clear sounds of enjoyment as they jotted down numbers on their score sheets.
Mine was next.
Suddenly, that sheep washing was sounding a little more appealing.
Hunter gave me a little thumbs-up as the pie was moved in front of them. I was thankful for my best friend’s enthusiasm, but things had only gotten worse since I’d dropped off the baked good for judging. The whipped cream I’d added last minute had broken down into a melted pool of milky water, thanks to the residual heat of the pie.
It was a literal hot mess.
I watched Hunter’s face as he dipped his fork into the pie and took a bite. The slight clenching of his eyes when it touched his tongue was all it took to tell me I was a goner. The other guys didn’t hold in their disgust as well. Graham spit out his bite into a nearby napkin and Rhett swallowed down the lump before hastily gulping from his water bottle.
“Interesting taste.” Hunter worked the bite around his mouth, wincing a tad. I could tell he was trying to avoid my gaze, even as he endured this torture for my sake. “Really unique.”
“Yeah, if you like eating campfire ashes for dessert,” Graham said, pushing the pie away. “That one sucked.”
Rhett grunted his agreement.
Ms. Gentry clapped her hands sharply. She’d been presiding over the judging like an eagle perched on a tree, waiting for an innocent mouse to show itself. “Gentlemen, please. The rest of the pies.”
Whelp, that was it.
I dropped into a nearby chair and cradled my head in defeat until the judging was finished. Luckily, I wasn’t the only one who hadn’t made a culinary splash. A couple of the pies were under-baked and the crying girl at the end had used ten times the amount of salt the recipe called for, which left the judges gagging. When the score sheets were finally passed out, I’d landed solidly in fourth place. Sarah had taken first.
No surprise there.
“It wasn’t that bad, Charlotte.” Hunter knelt on the floor next to my chair where I was still
