Sugar and Salt

By Laura Schiller

Based on: Before I Fall

Copyright: Lauren Oliver

I don't remember that lemon cake was Sam's favorite until I've already pulled it out of the oven.

It sits on the counter like a yellow brick. The kitchen's a mess: bowls and whisks caked in batter, flour streaks all over Mom's expensive marble counter, eggshells, lemon peel. The grater cut my hands. I'm never such a slob. And Lindsay and Elody are coming over in half an hour.

The cake smells so crazy sweet, it makes me dizzy. How much sugar did I put in? I can't help picturing the look on Lindsay's face when she sees what I made for our Friday night in. I don't know what would be worse, one of her godawful sarcastic comments or nothing at all.

My hands shake as I wipe down the counter with a wet cloth. Suddenly I'm so hungry I can't see straight. I grab the cake knife and saw off a slice of steaming hot cake before I can stop myself.

For years I've been afraid to eat too much, afraid to be less than perfect, afraid of not living up to my parents with their tailored suits and manicures and cool, elegant manners. They've always been so proud of me, their pretty, popular daughter who did everything right. I've always been afraid of what would happen if I did even one thing wrong.

But I did. We all did. We let Sam die, and she'll never eat my lemon cake again.

It tastes like summer. Like bouncing on the trampoline, not even caring about our hair and clothes getting messed up, like coffee and cake on the porch in the sunshine. Like Sam saying Oh my god, Ally, this is delicious. You should be a chef, I swear.

I eat until the lump in my throat stops me, and the sweetness of the sugar and lemon turns to salt. But for the first time in as long as I can remember, I'm not hungry anymore.