“I mean, no offense, but no one’s tuning in for you, babe. Not yet, anyway.”
Heat crawls up my neck, my heart pounding harder than it ever has in the tent. But I just sit there on my bed, staring at my roommate in complete disbelief.
I think I just met the real Lila.
“Goodnight, Lila,” I say, because if I try for anything else, I might crack.
“Night,” she replies lightly, already lounging on her bed and scrolling her phone again.
The soft material of my pillow is cool beneath my cheek, soothing the lingering embarrassment there. I curl into myself on the bed and face the wall, wishing I could ignore Lila’s presence the way Chloe seems to do.
But I can’t; her incessant static vibrates against my spine from across the room. Hot tears threaten to fall.
Maybe Iamirrelevant in all the ways Lila cares about.
But there’s another showstopper coming tomorrow. Another chance to make something good with my hands and win over the judges.
There’ll be flour under my nails and cakes rising in the oven and a clock ticking down, whether anyone’s watching for me or not. I know how to do that part at least.
I close my eyes, already running through flavors in my head, and let that be enough for tonight.
CHAPTER 12: ALEX
No one cheers when Jasper’s name is called as the baker going home this week.
Jasper nods, smiling in that stunned, gracious way people do when they’re trying not to ruin the moment for everyone else. He presses his lips together, lets out a slow breath, and files the disappointment away for later when he’s alone.
I clock our resident optimist immediately.
She’s standing a few feet behind him, hands clenched at her sides, eyes already glassy. When he turns to hug her, she breaks.
“I’m so sorry.” Her usual cheery voice wobbles, muffled against Jasper’s chest. “It really shouldn’t have been you. I’m so, so sorry.”
Jasper laughs awkwardly, pulling back just enough to look at her. “Hey, kiddo. It’s okay. That’s the game, right? Someone’s gotta go home. I get to see my kids tomorrow, so it ain’t all bad.”
Taylor shakes her head. “No. It’s not—”
But she stops herself, swallowing hard, shifting on her feet like she’s weighing whether to say something she can’t take back. “I’m just… I’m really sorry.”
Her reaction throws me.
Taylor’s empathetic, sure. That’s nothing new. Kindness is practically built into her. But this isn’t that. This sits heavier, the kind of feeling that makes your hands tremble when there’s nothing you can fix.
Jasper makes his rounds, hugging everyone, thanking the judges, promising to bake again. When he finally disappears through the exit, the tent exhales. The cameras cut.
But Taylor doesn’t recover.
Her usual soft, smiling face is gone—replaced with something sharper, eyes cutting across the room. I follow her gaze to… Lila?
I narrow my eyes, scrutinizing her, trying to piece together what Taylor sees. What I’m missing. What’s already taken root right under my nose.
Lila is smiling too wide, already talking to the camera about how happy she is to still be here, her voice wrapping around the loss of Jasper like it belongs to her.
My jaw tightens. I don’t like her.
Taylor drifts through the aftermath like she’s underwater. Her beautiful hazel eyes remain unfocused, her smile nowhere to be found.
When I catch her eye, she looks away too quickly.
