CHARACTER

Cake Rishworth

Quick Facts

  • Role: Best friend, bandleader, and emotional anchor for Tiger Tolliver
  • First appearance: Early in the novel as Tiger’s closest confidante and the driving force of their band, Broken Cradle
  • Key relationships: Tiger; supportive wing-woman to Tiger and their bandmate Kai Henderson; rooted in a warm home with Rhonda, Gabe, and Uncle Connor
  • Thematic function: A living emblem of Friendship as care-in-action

Who They Are

Bold, practical, and fiercely protective, Cake Rishworth is the kind of friend who shows up, stays late, and thinks two steps ahead. After June Tolliver’s death, Cake becomes Tiger’s steady ground—packing bags, handling logistics, and making space for grief without flinching. Her tall, striking style—“five feet ten inches of awesomeness” with black-and-purple Leia buns—announces who she is: a visible shield, a beacon of self-possession, and a challenge to conformity.

Cake embodies “found family” as practice, not promise—reaffirming that family is who shows up—while keeping Tiger afloat amid overwhelming grief and loss. Through her, the novel’s idea of found family becomes tangible: consistency, generosity, and presence.

Personality & Traits

Cake blends fearless candor with deep tenderness. She’s the planner who keeps the band on track and the friend who will cry with you in the hospital hallway. Her confidence gives Tiger a model to borrow from; her empathy keeps that confidence from becoming cruelty.

  • Loyal and steadfast: She’s the first call in a crisis, the friend who sneaks extra food to Tiger at school, and the person who immediately steps in after June’s death—packing Tiger’s suitcase for foster care when Tiger can’t.
  • Confident and outspoken: Cake’s blunt advice and sarcasm cut through noise; Tiger’s “WWCD” (What Would Cake Do?) mantra shows how Cake’s boldness guides her. She wouldn’t hesitate to clap back at bullies like Lupe Hidalgo.
  • Pragmatic, goal-oriented leader: As Broken Cradle’s engine, she schedules practice and schoolwork and pushes Tiger to “Rip off the Band-Aid”—face hard things head-on.
  • Empathic witness: At the hospital, she cries with Tiger and stays close, offering presence when there are no perfect words.
  • Artist with momentum: A musical prodigy, Cake carries a future brimming with possibility—an illuminating contrast to Tiger’s uncertainty—forcing both girls to ask how friendship adapts when dreams pull in different directions.

Character Journey

Cake begins as the fixer—dispensing practical advice about boys and parents—and has to evolve when Tiger’s world fractures. After June’s death, Cake learns that being “the strong one” sometimes means doing less and listening more, folding logistics (packing, rides, calls) into a gentler kind of care. Her acceptance to a prestigious music camp tests her fiercest instinct: never leave Tiger. She stumbles—lying about the acceptance out of fear of abandoning her friend—then grows into honesty. With Tiger’s blessing, Cake chooses to go, revealing a mature understanding that real friendship makes room for each other’s lives, not just each other’s crises.

Key Relationships

  • Tiger Tolliver: Cake is Tiger’s anchor and mirror—someone who validates Tiger’s anger, steadies her grief, and keeps her connected to the routines of ordinary life. She feeds Tiger, makes plans when Tiger can’t, and insists that Tiger’s needs deserve attention even when Tiger feels undeserving.
  • Kai Henderson: As friend and bandmate, Kai becomes the subject of Cake’s gentle engineering. She recognizes Tiger and Kai’s chemistry and creates low-pressure chances for them to connect, offering funny, frank advice that keeps romance from overshadowing healing.
  • Rhonda, Gabe, and Uncle Connor: Cake’s family provides the open door Tiger needs—offering to pay for her phone, pitching in with funeral details, and treating Tiger like a daughter. Their stable, loving home is a counterweight to the instability of foster care, modeling what functional care looks like.

Defining Moments

Cake’s presence is most powerful when the situation is ugliest. She stands beside Tiger for the last normal moment, the shock, and the after.

  • The cafeteria “dress” moment: When Tiger receives the photo of the “monstrosity” June bought, Cake’s horrified humor validates Tiger’s embarrassment. Why it matters: It’s the final flash of ordinary teen drama before tragedy—Cake is the witness to the end of Tiger’s old life.
  • The hospital and aftermath: Cake arrives fast and stays, crying with Tiger and handling small but crucial tasks. She packs Tiger’s suitcase for foster care. Why it matters: She translates love into logistics, proving that practical help is a language of grief.
  • The music camp conflict: Cake hides her acceptance out of fear that leaving equals betrayal. When Tiger urges her to go, Cake chooses honesty and ambition. Why it matters: It reframes friendship as growth-friendly, not sacrifice-only, strengthening rather than straining their bond.
  • Family research: Cake helps Tiger investigate her grandparents and father, Dustin "Dusty" Franklin, Googling details and connecting dots. Why it matters: She supports Tiger’s reconstruction of self, pushing the story’s identity and coming-of-age arc forward.

Essential Quotes

“You just need to yell more,” she says. “Mouth off. Live up to your name.” Cake’s advice reframes anger as agency. She gives Tiger permission to be loud and self-protective, modeling a mode of survival in which voice—especially a girl’s voice—is both shield and catalyst.

It’ll be okay, she answers. Just remember to breathe, and to relax, because kissing is a fun and essential part of your adolescent development. Cake’s humor disarms panic. By normalizing Tiger’s fears about intimacy, she turns a looming milestone into something safe and playful—guidance that blends comedy with care.

“I swear we’ll get through this.” This oath is Cake’s ethic in five words: not solutions, companionship. She can’t remove the grief, but she vows to carry it with Tiger, shifting from fixer to steadfast witness.

I don’t want to leave you. I’m not going. Her first reaction to music camp exposes the cost of loyalty when dreams call. The line reveals her fear that ambition equals abandonment—an assumption the novel gently challenges.

I hate you and I love you. This thicket of contradiction captures the volatility of grief and the pressure on friendships after trauma. Cake lets Tiger feel the swing without withdrawing, proving that unconditional love can absorb messy truths.