The Mix-Up by Holly McCulloch

CHAPTER 21

‘Oh my god, Paige, the cake is even more beautiful in person than in the drawing.’

The cake is now all unboxed, set up and in place. I take a step back to look.

She does look beautiful.

I had worried that the grandeur and size of the room would drown her, but in fact I think the cake gives people even more of a reason to remember the room. It’s like the surprise chocolate that you sometimes get on your pillow if you stay somewhere posh. You might not be able to remember the colour of the walls, but you can remember the chocolate that made you smile.

It is four tiers tall, and as per Noah’s suggestion, adorned with edible flowers that have been dunked in isomalt to make them sparkle; white chocolate ganache details soften the sharp edges and gold leaf adds a little extra something. The colourful flowers beautifully complement the pops of colour elsewhere in the venue.

I take my gloves off, as even I can’t see any more bits to faff with and fuss over. I turn to Mika. ‘Thanks. I’m glad she made it here in one piece.’

Mika is looking at the cake, taking in all the different angles and details. ‘She is going to shine in the photos. I’ll make sure we get some good ones.’ She winks at me.

I hear footsteps behind me.

‘I finally found a knife, but it looks like I’m a bit late.’ I look at Noah. He is standing with his hands on his hips. He’s breathing a bit heavily, like he ran here from the kitchen.

The joy of seeing the cake in front of me is ruined by the conversation I must now have.

‘Hey, is this the cake you were drawing in my apartment the other day?’ Mika’s face lights up at this titbit of information. ‘The one with the echo … the ico … the iso …’

‘The isomalt?’

‘Exactly!’

I nod. ‘Yep. Yes it is.’ I turn away from him, unable to look any longer.

I hand over cutting instructions and allergy information to Mika. ‘Thanks so much for your help setting it up.’ I reach for her and give her a hug. My bum bag gets squished between the two of us.

‘Oh my goodness, of course. I can’t wait to see what you do with the next one!’ She says all of this into my hair.

‘I hope the rest of the day goes well.’ I give her a final squeeze before breaking apart. I try not to add the loom of the next cake into my sphere of dread.

She looks at Noah. ‘It was nice to meet you.’ She leaves, and he gives her a little wave goodbye. It’s so at odds with the masculinity of his body that I could find it kinda cute. I could, but I am determined not to. I don’t want it to be another little detail that I’ll miss.

For the first time since bringing the cake in, I look at Noah.

‘Are you ready to go?’

He nods. ‘Where should I?’ He holds up the knife and looks around the room as though he is going to find the perfect place to stash it.

I would smile, but once again I think I am closer to crying. ‘I think it’s fine to just leave the knife. Someone will see it and take it back to the kitchen.’ At this, I start to walk out to the car and can hear Noah following behind me.

‘I don’t want to just leave it anywhere though. What if a little kid picks it up?’

I’m halfway to the car and turn to him. He still has the knife in his hands.

‘It’s a butter knife. I think there are more dangerous things lying around.’ My tone has a definite bite.

He stops looking at the knife and envisioning where to stash it in the surroundings, and looks at me. ‘Hey, are you OK?’

I say nothing but turn away and start walking again. I can hear him following. I wish I could just disappear. I don’t want to hurt him, but I can’t handle this. This is too much.

‘Hey. Stop. Are you OK?’

I stop walking. I might as well answer him truthfully.

I turn to face him. There is so much feeling and attachment in his eyes. It makes me feel almost disgusted. Why is he looking at me like that? He shouldn’t be looking at me like that. He doesn’t know me. But he soon will. He will soon see how bad a person I am. How undeserving I am. How much of a disappointment I am.

‘No. I’m not OK.’ I pause. ‘We’re not OK.’

This makes him rear up. ‘What? Why? I’m sorry I drove so slowly on the way here.’

I shake my head. ‘It’s not that.’

‘Then what?’

‘I think we need to stop seeing each other.’ I feel sick as soon as I’ve said it. But I can’t take it back. And I don’t want to take it back. We do need to stop seeing each other. I can’t do this. I’m not built for this.

He goes very still, like making the wrong move will end in disaster.

But there are no right moves here either. I have followed a path, deep into a wood, and now I can’t see a way out. I don’t want to see a way out. I don’t deserve to see a way out.

‘OK. But why?’ He looks confused and scared and maybe a little angry.

This is where my argument and reasoning really falls down. My heart starts beating really, really fast.

Everything I can think of sounds overly dramatic, and I hate being overly dramatic. This is why the fadeaway is so much better. You can avoid these conversations. I hate these conversations. I don’t handle these conversations well. And I don’t handle the emotions that come with them well either.

‘It’s just … it’s best to cut our losses now.’

‘Where is this coming from?’ He steps towards me and I once again step back. A flash of hurt goes across his face.

The answer to that question is too long. Especially when I’m not sure I know the answer.

I gesture between the two of us. ‘I just … I can’t do this.’ I pause. ‘Listen, I’m really grateful that you could help me out today, but I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to see you any more.’

He looks so hurt and possibly a bit confused, and I can’t blame him. But it’s better this way. It’s better that I hurt him now, so he doesn’t get hurt more later.

‘But we have a good time together. Don’t we?’

I can’t say anything to this. It’s obvious we have a good time together. He takes my silence as agreement.

‘OK, so what’s the issue? I don’t get it. What’s happening here?’

‘Nothing. Nothing is happening here.’ Too much is happening here.

‘What do you mean nothing is happening here?’

‘You’re right, we had a good time together, but that’s it. And now I’m not having a good time any more, so I think it’s time to end this.’

‘You’re telling me that, what, we’ve just been having a good time and that’s it? And now you’re done?’

‘Exactly.’ I’m breathing heavily, despite standing still. ‘That’s exactly it.’

He looks at me like he doesn’t know me. He’s not wrong. I’m not sure I know who I am right now. ‘I don’t know what the hell is happening here, but you’re acting like a crazy person.’

I scoff, even though he’s kinda right. ‘Oh I’m crazy, huh? Do you know how offensive that is?’

He exhales. ‘I didn’t say you were a crazy person, but you are acting like a crazy person right now.’

‘Right. Well, thank you for that distinction.’ My tone is rudely sarcastic. I shut my face down and stare at him. I refuse to break. I can’t keep this going for much longer. The conversation, and also this accidental almost-relationship that I have with him.

‘So that’s it?’

I don’t say anything. I can’t.

His face transitions from confused to cold. I hate it. I’ve never, ever seen Noah look cold. He is not a cold person. I wish I didn’t have to do this to him. ‘I guess I’ll leave then.’ He waits a moment longer, possibly to see if I will say anything.

I don’t.

Eventually, he moves to get into his car, and I crack. I take half a step towards him.

‘Noah …’ I leave his name hanging. Noah is what I want, but he’s moving further away from me because I pushed him away. ‘I never wanted to hurt you.’ I don’t follow him, but I don’t want him to think he’s anything other than perfect. It is me that nobody wants. It is me that isn’t perfect. He gets into his car and shuts the door, and all I can do is watch as he drives away.