Unicorn Cake

Chatter was echoing down the hallway, coming from the kitchen. It was eighteen months earlier, and I was back in Bryce and Pandora's apartment. Jackie's farewell party was in full swing. Unfortunately, she'd been unable to secure a more permanent visa in Australia and was being kicked out of the country. My ex cofounder, Sam, was taking the plunge and moving to the US with her. Jackie had recently gone through a very challenging personal situation. Being ripped away from her Australian friends because of a visa issue was just icing on the cake.

Which is why I was holding one in my hands. A cake, that is.

You see, Jackie loved unicorns. She had unicorn toys and keyrings and trinkets. Whenever there was anything unicorn-related in her vicinity, she'd break out into a smile. I wanted to make her smile, so I made her a unicorn farewell cake.

I'd woken up at six a.m. and traipsed to the shops to buy all the ingredients. I'd then slaved away in the kitchen, baking, and making fondant icing from scratch, and rolling, and sculpting, and decorating.

Two hours before the party, I looked at my creation, thinking, 'Wow, what a disaster.' I'd been procrastibaking since I was a teen (there's something very relaxing about baking sweet things, then sharing them with friends), but I'd never baked a cake like this before. I didn't realize how much work it was. The kitchen was an absolute mess — pots and pans were scattered everywhere, different-colored icing lay in bowls on the floor, flour dusted every conceivable surface like cocaine at a Wall Street strip-joint. I wasn't sure if I'd finish in time. It all looked a bit hopeless. I wondered if my project would turn out like an 'expectation... reality' meme.

But then I buckled down and got it done and had a shower, wiping the flour off my face and wrangling my hair into an acceptable format. I put on a nice dress and walked the cake — which was surprisingly heavy — down the road to the party.

I arrived fairly late. Everything was pumping.

"Nikki!" Jackie screamed in excitement as she ran up to me. "You made it! And what's this?" She pointed to the cake.

"I made you a unicorn cake," I said. I couldn't wait for her to see the inside. The cake, itself, was rainbow marble with buttercream frosting. I'd cut a hole in the center and filled it with m&m minis, so she'd be greeted by a colorful explosion when she cut it open.

Jackie looked around the room in giddy shock. "That's... that's so sweet of you. No one has ever done that for me before. How long did it take you to make this?"

"All day. I started at six a.m."

"You spent all day on this for me?"

"Yeah, of course. I thought you might need some cheering up. Plus, you and Sam are about to go on a big adventure together, and that's worth celebrating!"

I glanced over at Sam, who was looking at Jackie the way Jesse used to look at me. I flashed back to a year earlier when I'd been sitting on Jackie's bed, chatting. She'd said, "I just want someone to look at me the way Jesse looks at you." It was a rare moment of vulnerability from her. She always seemed so strong and independent, but at that moment, her armor melted.

And so now, at this junction in our lives, the tables had turned. Jesse had left several months ago, and there I was, thinking, 'I just want someone to look at me the way Sam looks at Jackie.' I wondered if someone could ever love me like that again. I wondered if someone could ever see right through me like he did — see all my imperfection and still look at me like I was the most magnificent creature to ever walk the planet.

It's funny how life works, isn't it? For the reality to rearrange like that? For the sands to shift so ironically through the passage of time.

I walked around the loud room, chatting with friends as they laughed and drank beer. Someone with a thick Chinese accent was singing off-key. Another round of shots was placed on the table, next to some strange-looking finger food.