The Secret Recipe for Moving On Karen Bischer (read my book .txt) 📖

a fact they don’t have much in savings right now). I doubt anyone at this table has a clue about what it really takes to get by and survive.

Thinking about it makes my insides twist, so I inhale deeply and close my eyes. When I open them, I notice Paul is absent from the table next to ours, and I wonder if he’s truly going to be expelled. Luke is following along with the budget lecture and writing in his notebook and A.J. is trying to carve something into his chair with his pen. Isaiah, however, has that same newspaper from lunch on his lap, and he’s staring at it intently.

“Mr. Greenlow,” I hear Mrs. Sanchez say, and Isaiah looks up. “Could you kindly show me what you’re reading?”

Isaiah guiltily pulls his newspaper off of his lap and holds it up. Mrs. Sanchez leans over her counter to get a better look. “The Daily Racing Form?” she says and, with that, the whole class starts laughing.

“Yes, ma’am,” Isaiah says, sinking in his seat.

“I’m not sure that’s appropriate for class,” Mrs. Sanchez says.

“I don’t know about that,” A.J. jumps in. “I mean, betting on the ponies could be listed under hobbies when you’re budgeting, right?”

The class laughs again, and Isaiah sinks farther down in his seat.

Mrs. Sanchez ponders this. “Yes, Mr. Johnson, I suppose it could. That said, reading about Belmont Park isn’t going to help when there’s a test on this material. So, Mr. Greenlow, kindly pay attention.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Isaiah says again, folding the newspaper and placing it on his backpack just as the bell rings.

Mrs. Sanchez claps her hands as everyone gathers their things. “Read the packets I gave you yesterday so we can discuss how income affects budgeting tomorrow.”

I turn my head, looking for Brynn. I want to ask her to come to my car to get the globe, but I don’t see her or Hunter anywhere. Then I remember that there’s a Ringtones rehearsal this afternoon in the school theater and they’re probably heading there. I can leave it with one of the guys and run out, and Hunter will be none the wiser.

I get to the classroom door at the same time as Luke and have to skid to a stop before I bash into him.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” he says.

“Sorry,” I say, sidestepping around him.

“She speaks!” he says behind me, but I don’t stick around to hear what else he has to say. I check over my shoulder to see if he’s talking about me with A.J. or someone, but he’s met up with Greta and they’re smiling at each other. I guess whatever disagreement they had this morning is over.

It’s nice that some couples can work out their issues.

I head to the parking lot and grab the globe from the car, then head toward the back door of the theater. If I leave it in the prop room, it’ll get found, especially since it’s where half the Ringtones go to make out with their groupies during rehearsals.

As I’m about to round the bend that leads to the theater’s back door, I pass two girls, freshmen, judging by their general youngness, giggling.

“Who does that, outside and in the open?” one says.

“I know, right?” her friend replies. “It’s like they don’t care who sees them.”

I’m intrigued as I come around the corner, half expecting to see a couple like Luke and Greta going at it. Sure enough, there’s a girl leaning against the brick wall by the theater door practically being mauled by a guy … in a dark-green polo shirt.

I think I literally stop breathing when the realization dawns on me. It’s like my feet refuse to move. I’m just standing there, watching him swallow this girl’s head, his hands running all over her body.

“Wait, I need to catch my breath,” the girl says, giggling.

I know that voice. Oh my god, this isn’t happening.

Hunter backs off from his conquest and suddenly I’m staring straight at Brynn.

“Are you kidding me?” It just comes out, and they both jump. I’m on autopilot and I don’t care who sees or hears it. “You get me out of the way so you can be with each other? You assholes!”

Hunter digs his hands into his pockets guiltily, but Brynn is totally affronted by this, and there’s no way I’m letting her say anything back to me. I spin around and start storming toward my car. I get to the parking lot before I hear Brynn yelling after Hunter and Hunter yelling after me. I realize I’m still carrying the globe and have this urge to hurl it at the both of them.

“Ellie,” Hunter yells. For some reason I stop, maybe thinking he’ll apologize or something. “You don’t have to be like this. I didn’t want to lead you on anymore.”

It’s like this sudden, eerie calm takes over me. I’m done with this. I’m done with them. I turn to face Brynn and Hunter and set the globe down, then spin around and start walking to my car before I can burst into tears in public. Especially since there are a good number of people watching this all go down and I know the humiliation is going to sink in in a few seconds.

“You’re seriously going to let her call us assholes?” I hear Brynn bark at Hunter, and the eerie calm is gone just as quick as it came. I turn back around, stomp toward them, pull my leg back, and let my foot fly at the globe. In a rare moment of pure athletic skill, it launches in the air and hurls toward a wide-eyed Brynn and Hunter, making them both duck. The globe ends up careening toward the side of the building and slamming into the brick wall with a pathetic thud before it falls into the bushes below.

Hunter and Brynn both stare at me openmouthed, maybe a little frightened. “Oh my god,” I hear some girl whisper in awe. Suddenly I’m shaking—there were so many