“Mmm?”
“Are you planning to come to my family’s cookie exchange?”
He glances up, surprised. “Do you want me to come?”
The honest answer is yes, which terrifies me. “My sisters will never forgive me if I don’t bring you.”
He smiles, bright and genuine, like I just offered him unlimited candy at the movies. The sight tightens my chest. “Then I’ll be there.”
As Reed heads to his car, I watch Chiron follow him to the fence line, clearly hoping for more carrots. My phone buzzes again.
EDEN
Well?
He’s coming to cookies
EILA
EXCELLENT
EVA
We’re going to love him
ESTHER
If the donkey likes him, we like him
I pocket my phone and look at Chiron, who’s staring forlornly after Reed’s departing car.
“Yeah,” I tell my ridiculous donkey. “I know how you feel.”
12
Reed
The chocolate chip cookies came out as sad, flat pancakes. I poke one with a fork, and it bounces back.
“How did you manage to make cookies chewy and crunchy at the same time?” Paolo asks, examining the disaster spread across my kitchen counter.
“I followed the recipe exactly,” I protest, checking the chocolate chip bag again. “Bake for nine to eleven minutes. I baked for ten.”
“Did you measure the flour?” Vick asks, breaking off a piece and immediately spitting it into his napkin.
“Of course I measured. Two and a quarter cups.”
Kash holds the measuring cup I used. “Reed, this is in liters. The recipe is in grams.”
I stare at the Pyrex cup, then at my friends, then at the cookie graveyard covering every available surface. “There’s a difference? I thought there was a 1:1 ratio…”
“Oh, buddy,” Paolo says with genuine sympathy. “There’s definitely a difference.”
Twenty-four cookies that even Eliza’s goats would reject. A cookie exchange where I’m supposed to bring three dozen to share, and I’ve produced exactly zero edible options.
I text Eliza:
Can’t make it to the exchange. Cookie situation is a disaster.
