I rip open the plastic, press the package to my nose, and suck in the smell of my childhood. It was always a good day when you found Kandy Kakes in your lunch bag. It was about the treat, but it was emotional, too. Finding one of these meant our family was on a good streak. “You guys want one?” “Not so much.” Kelsey wrinkles her nose. “You have to be from Jersey to like those. I think it’s a rule.” “Lizzie? Noelle?” They shake their heads. “All for you,” Lizzie says. Nobody I know appreciates Kandy Kakes, which is fine by me. I sink my teeth into the sponge cake-y, peanut-buttery goodness,
...more
