Without Cake Me Up or being a receptionist for my dad, my days seemed never ending and completely boring.

Baking didn't even seem appealing to me. Every time I stepped into my kitchen, all I could think about was Nate in his dumb "Kiss the Cook" apron. Did he already own it, or did he buy just for the baking lessons?

Why does it matter, I thought to myself.

I face planted into the couch two hours ago and hadn't moved since. Episodes of The Great British Bake Off played on the TV. The plan was to stay another hour or two.

Then the doorbell rang.

Nessa was the only person who ever visited and she was at work, so whoever it was, they weren't important. I focused my attention back on the TV.

Unfortunately, whoever was at the door didn't want to be ignored. They rang the doorbell again and shouted my name.

I sat up then. "Liz?" When I opened the door, sure enough, she was standing on my porch. Letting her in, we went back to the living room. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

She held out a small gift bag. "Delivery."

It had been a few days since my birthday and Disneyland, and Liz already gave me a gift—jumbo hair clips with little cakes and sweets on them. "What's this?"

"It's from Nate," she admitted sheepishly. When I didn't make a move to take the bag, she added, "Look, I'm not taking any sides, but whatever he did, he's extremely sorry."

After Nate and I had our talk, there was no way our friends wouldn't notice the tension between us.

I told Liz and Daisy that Nate and I decided to go our separate ways. They didn't need any more information than that. But I had a feeling if Liz knew exactly what Nate did, she wouldn't have been making deliveries for him.

"I'm not interested in his apologizes," I said, sitting on the couch and grabbing the remote to let Netflix know I was still watching.

Liz sat next to me, a solemn look on her face. "Is this about Janae being back? Because if it is, you should know that she's with Andrew now."

That got my attention. Those text messages she sent Nate the other day made me think she wanted him back. "She is?"

Liz nodded, settling onto the couch. "Yeah, according to Daisy, Janae was with Andrew before she got with Nate. I guess he was the one that got away."

What Andrew said to me at Nate's party weeks ago came back to me. He told I had nothing to worry about with Janae. Did he say that because he was dating her? Of course he was. How else would he have known I liked the picture? only Janae would've been notified.

Was that why she wanted to meet with Nate—to tell him she was dating one of his friends?

Did it even matter at that point? No. Because the Janae thing was tiny compared to the fact that Nate had been lying to me for weeks.

"No, it has nothing to do with her," I said, eyes glued to the TV. "And, I really don't want to talk about it."

"Consider the subject dropped," she said, holding her hands up. "I'm also here because Nessa told me to make sure you weren't sitting here wallowing."

Her eyes roamed the living room. Embarrassed was an understatement as I took in all the empty water bottles and chip bags on the coffee table.

"I'm not wallowing," I said, hopping up to grab my trash from the table to throw away.

Liz scoffed. "Right. I'll pretend to believe that."

When I returned to the living room, Liz was getting up from the couch. "I just came to check up on you and drop off the gift. I'd stay, but I have...this thing."

At the sight of the color that suddenly filled her cheeks, I had to ask, "Is this thing a date?"

The shy smile that popped on her face answered my question. "You know that girl from the pool party last month?" I nodded. "I'm meeting her brother at the movies."

"Liz!"

"What? The girl wasn't interested," she said. "She's the one who set us up."

I huffed a laugh, shaking my head at her. "Okay, well, have fun on your date."

"I plan to," she said. "Oh, and Nate said to check your email."

"What, did he get tired of texting?"

She shrugged. "I'm just the messenger."

Once Liz was gone, I returned to my couch. The gift bag from Nate was still there, propped against the throw pillows. Curiosity got the best of me and picked the bag up.

Inside, buried beneath tissue paper, was a mouse ear headband. Rainbow sequins covered the ears and in the middle where Minnie's signature bow should've been, there was a cupcake.

My heart squeezed in my chest. Pressure built up behind my eyes, but I refused to waste another tear on him.

The last thing I wanted was another moment where I held on to someone's things hoping, one day, everything would go back to normal. There was no hope for Nate and me.

I wanted to burn it, set the ears on fire and be done with Nate for good.

When I stood, the headband and gift bag in hand, I realized the bag still held some weight. Reaching in, I pulled out a DVD case. The disc inside had "SORRY" scribbled across it.

He made me a DVD? A million different things ran through my mind as I tried to imagine what was on it. Instead of torturing myself with what ifs, I went to my dad's office. I was suddenly grateful that my dad was so cheap that he hadn't upgraded his laptop since 2008.

Once the DVD was in the player, I hesitated—No, I froze.

Nate scared me. I was used to being looked over or being someone's second choice or just being a fill in until someone better came along.

Nessa had a point when she pointed out why I hide my relationship with Kai from everyone. In the back of my mind, I knew what I had with Kai was temporary. That made being with him easier, because there was always an invisible wall between us that kept me from falling for him completely.

With Nate, there was no wall. It was just him, willing to give himself to me fully. I didn't think I could handle someone liking me as much as I liked them.

It was like stepping out on to a frozen lake, unsure if it'd be able to hold your weight. The only way to know the strength of the ice was to take the step.

I hit play and Nate appeared on the screen. He wasn't at home. It was more like a hotel. He looked so nervous sitting there, some generic hotel painting behind him.

What is this? I thought.

"Uh, hi, I'm Nate." My confusion deepened. Obviously, I knew who he was. Then, "This is our audition for Bake-A-Palooza."

My heart jumped. Our what?

The scene cut to video footage of the two of us in my kitchen baking on that first day, when we made cookies. I hadn't even realized he was recording.

He continued to talk over the video, detailing the past couple of weeks. He talked about how a month ago he never baked anything in life and how I'd been teaching him the basics. There was even footage of him alone, cracking eggs and getting excited when eggshell didn't end up in the bowl.

"Charm is an amazing baker and teacher," Nate continued to narrate over different clips of us baking. "She's an amazing person in general. She tries to act tough, but she's one of the sweetest people I've ever met.

"And her passion for her craft is unmatched. The energy surrounding her while she's working her magic is...addictive. Yeah, that's the right word. Addictive."

The video switched back to Nate in his hotel room. His face was open and smiling, his eyes bright.

The idea that I could make someone smile like that was beyond my comprehension. Nate couldn't have been real. Real people didn't think of me like that.

"I know this isn't a traditional audition tape," he continued. His expression more serious, but there was still a hint of adoration in his eyes. "But if you're looking for someone with the talent, and the passion and the ability to capture people's attention and their...hearts. Then I guarantee you're looking for Charm Cunningham."

The video ended with him standing to cut the camera off.

I didn't realize I'd been crying until my soggy reflection stared back at me through the darkened computer screen.

Grabbing a tissue from the box on my dad's desk, I wiped away tears that wouldn't stop flowing. How did I even begin to process what I just watched? Especially, that last part and the way he said hearts, like maybe it carried more meaning then he expected.

He sat down and pieced together an audition video for us. Even though he wasn't here. Even though I refused to reply to his messages.

People didn't just do things like that for other people. Especially not when they were only using that person to get close to their aunt.

Nate was telling me the truth at Disneyland. He messed up and he was sorry. The DVD proved it. All I had to do was forgive him. That was possibly the most terrifying thing I'd ever have to do.

Before my mind went into overdrive obsessing over the pros and cons of accepting Nate's apology, I remembered the other message Liz had from him: check your email.

I opened my account on my dad's laptop. And there, under flash sale subject lines that used way too many emojis, there was an email titled Bake-A-Palooza.

All I managed to read was "CONGRATULATIONS" before the tears started again, blurring the rest of the email.