"It's legit," Nessa said, swiveling in the desk chair to turn to me.

After watching Nate's DVD so many times I could recite it word for word, I sent an S.O.S to my best friend. I kept the DVD to myself for the time being. It felt too personal to share. Even though Nate sent it in for a competition, it still felt like his words were only meant for me.

Nessa was reading the Bake-A-Palooza email. Once I stopped sobbing, I read the email, still unable to believe it was real. I needed a second opinion.

"And I'm awake right now?" A sharp pain shot through my thigh a second later. "Ow!"

Nessa giggled, moving to my bed with the laptop. "Yep, fully awake."

I flopped back against my headboard. "This can't be real," I muttered, staring up at my ceiling. "What do I even do now?"

If it weren't for Nate, I wouldn't have been accepted into Bake-A-Palooza. Either he meant it when he said his feelings for me weren't a lie or he felt guilty about what happened to Cake Me Up. The last one made the most sense.

When I relayed that thought to Nessa she looked at me like I punched her in face. "I really hurts me when you doubt yourself like that," she said, tucking her legs under as she got comfortable on my bed. "Give me one reason why Nate wouldn't like you?"

I gestured down the length of my body. "I can give you a couple of reasons."

Her brows pulled together, concern on her face. "Has he said something?"

"No, but—"

"But what?" She cut in, taking my hands in hers. "Charm, you're gorgeous. And I know you know it because you're always dressed to impress."

I chewed at my bottom lip. "Yes, I love my body, but other people...not so much."

The thing that made me more comfortable with my body was learning how to separate other people's opinions from my own. I had to remind myself that I didn't have to share anyone else's idea of beautiful. That I could create my own definition and live by it.

But it was hard when at every turn, I was reminded that there were people who didn't see me the way I saw myself.

"We're not talking about other people, we're talking about Nate," she clarified. "And it's obvious Nate likes you. All of you. If you talked to him, he'd probably tell you this himself."

My stomach twisted at the mere thought of seeing Nate. I hadn't seen him in person since Disneyland.

More importantly, regardless of what happened between Nate and me, there was the small matter of his mom and uncle. They burned down Cake Me Up to get my aunt's insurance money. I couldn't just forget that.

"Besides, in order to kick ass at Bake-A-Palooza, you'll need to talk to him," she reminded me, holding up my laptop that displayed the email.

"Or you could grow a beard and I can take you in his place?"

Nessa grabbed a pillow and whacked me with it. "Whatever you decide, you have until the end of the week to do it. According to this email, if don't sign the attached documents by then, you forfeit your spot in the competition."

I envied Nessa's optimism and wished it were contagious. There was still a heavy ball of nerves in my gut that I couldn't ignore.

"I'll think about it," I told her. "Anyways, what's been happening at work? I kinda miss it."

Nessa immediately pressed the back of her hand to my forehead, eyes full of worry. "Did you eat a bunch of frosting covered Oreos again?"

"No," I said, smacking her hand away.

"Then it must be a lack of oxygen." She stood from the bed, dragging me with her. "Get dressed, we still have a bucket list to complete."

♡ ♡ ♡

Nessa wouldn't tell me what bucket list item she was dragging me to do. The only information she gave was a heads up that we'd be near what used to be Cake Me Up.

Even with the warning, seeing the boarded-up windows brought a lump to my throat. I still couldn't believe it was gone.

Aunt Mimi always danced around the question whenever I asked if she was going to open the shop back up. I think she was only trying to spare me any more heartache. Cake Me Up wasn't coming back.

That added another pro to the list of whether I should do Bake-A-Palooza with Nate. If we won, I could put my half of the prize money to opening my own bakery in the future.

"This is it," Nessa told me as we came up to the storefront that sold purses just a few weeks ago. "I saw it on my way over to your place and thought we could count it as a museum since going to one is on our list."

It was a pop-up art gallery. The walls were covered in photographs. People milled around, taking in the photos and discussing them.

"What am I looking at?" Nessa asked, eyes narrowed and head tilted.

"The negative impact fast fashion has on the planet," I told her.

Her gaze shot to me. "You got all that from a burning mini skirt?"

"No, I got it from the plaque." I pointed and she rolled her eyes at me, a smile tugging at her lips.

"Well, now I feel out of place in my Shein shirt," she said, eyes darting around like she expected the owner of the gallery to come out of nowhere and set fire to her clothes.

I held back a laugh. "You're fine. Just don't let anyone touch you," I told her, reaching out to pinch her shirt. "That signature Shein fabric would be a giveaway."

Our laughter was interrupted by a familiar voice. Nessa's face lit up before she even turned to see Lorenzo behind her. "What are you doing here?" she asked, already wrapping him in a hug.

"Nate dragged me here." He glanced over her shoulder at me. "He said Charm gave him the idea to start taking photography seriously."

I fought the urge to search the room for him. Crossing my arms in a way hoped said, "cool, calm, and collected". I shrugged when Nessa looked back at me in concern.

She didn't buy it for a second. My heart beat a mile a minute at the thought of seeing Nate and apparently it was written all over my face.

"Hold on a second," she said to Lorenzo before taking my hand and leading me a few steps away. "We can go."

"No, I'm fine," I told her, although my rapid heart felt otherwise. "It's a small town, we're going to run into each other."

"But it doesn't have to be tonight if you're not ready," she said, earnest in her eyes. "You don't have to put on an act for anyone."

What Nate said in his video about me acting tough came to mind. He was right. So was Nessa.

I used a shield of anger and indifference to keep myself from getting hurt. If I didn't care, I didn't get my heart broken.

But I did care about Nate. Even after learning he had a hand in what happened to Cake Me Up, I cared about him. Those feelings weren't going away anytime soon.

Between the video and the email from Bake-A-Palooza, my heart felt like it'd taken a spin in and industrial sized mixer. What was one more time around the mixing bowl?

"You're right," I said to my best friend, offering her a reassuring smile. "No more acting."

I walked away before she could stop me. Nate was easy to spot. Even with his back to me, I recognized him. He was standing in front of another black-and-white photo of an eye.

Nate's photo collage popped into my mind. I didn't know what the intent of that art exhibit was, but it had nothing on Nate's work. His pictures were full of emotion and life. This exhibit...it was boring.

I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I hadn't noticed I was being watched until I looked up.

Nate was watching me with a look of caution. Like he wanted to say something, but wasn't sure it'd be okay considering our situation.

Now that I was in front of him, I didn't know what to say. The ache in my chest was too distracting. I missed him so much.

I spun back to the photo, unable to handle his gaze any longer. "What do you think?" I asked once the silence between us became too painful.

He watched me a couple of seconds longer before turning to the giant eye. "Nothing."

"That's what I thought," I agreed, hugging my elbows. Then, after letting it ping pong in my head for a moment, I added, "Your photos are better."

When I glanced up at him, he was already looking at me.

A smile played at his lips as he said, "Thanks."

"I want to do Bake-A-Poolza," I told him, ignoring the flutters in my belly at his almost smile. "I want to win. But the drama going on between our families—It's a distraction. I don't want to enter the competition unprepared."

He nodded. "I'm in. One hundred percent."

I shouldn't have been surprised he agreed. He was the one who entered us while I gave up on the idea. Still, something bloomed my chest.

"Meet me at my house tomorrow," I told him. "There's still a lot I have to teach you."

He outright smiled then and it was a miracle I was still standing. "I'll be there."