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

Willow lowers the camera, I turn back around to Luke. “I hope it’s okay I said that.”

“Sure, why not?” Luke says. “I always perform better with an audience. Especially when they think I’m ‘hot.’”

I shake my head. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

He grins widely. “Nope.”

“Well,” Vince sighs dramatically. “I hope people come to watch, even when this guy’s a star and has flown the coop. I’ll be all lonely here by myself.”

“Get on your St. Mark’s TV station,” Luke says, clapping him on the shoulder. “Publicity is key, man.”

“Then I’d better go practice my pitch,” Vince says, batting his eyelashes. “I don’t have your baby blues to help in the convincing.”

Luke playfully whacks him on the shoulder with his elbow pads as Vince grabs his own bike and moves toward the half-pipe.

“Do you want to ride with me, Ellie?” Willow asks. “I’m headed back to school to drop the camera off.”

“It’s okay, I’ll walk. I live less than a mile from here in Ingleside.”

“No way. I’m in Ingleside, too,” Luke says. “You can walk me home, then.”

“How chivalrous of me,” I laugh, slinging my backpack over my shoulders. I hope he doesn’t notice how surprised I am that he’d want to hang out with me.

When we get outside, the sun is starting to sink low in the sky. It’s still warm, and the air smells like fresh-cut grass that’s been drying in the sun all day. It’s probably my favorite time of year, those few weeks after summer before fall really takes over.

Luke walks beside me, pushing his bike. “Why didn’t I know you lived in Ingleside?” he says.

“Well, we only moved here in January,” I tell him. “Have you lived there long?”

“My mom and little brother and I moved here about five years ago, after my dad died,” he says. “My mom couldn’t afford our old neighborhood, so we moved to a smaller house. My mom remarried last year, but she loves the house, so we’re staying put for a while.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your dad,” I say. “I had no idea.”

Luke shrugs. “It was a while ago. He had cancer and it totally sucked. He’s the one who told me to take my riding more seriously, and since it was kind of his last wish, I did it. Luckily, I love it.” He smiles at me and I think he’s only doing it for my benefit, as if to say, “It’s sad, but don’t worry about me.”

He hops on his bike and stands on the pedals, moving the bike in a slow, snake-like pattern as we walk. “So, what about you? Why did you move here?” he asks as he rides in figure eights around me.

“Bankruptcy, pretty much.” I’m surprised how easily that came out. It’s not like I go around telling everyone this story, but I feel like Luke’s not going to judge me. “My dad used to own a restaurant in Green Ridge, but we had this shady business manager, Dave. One day my mom was cleaning the office, she came across some opened bills that were marked “past due.” It turns out that Dave was stealing money to help pay off his gambling debts and was paying child support to a former mistress who’d had his kid.”

“Jesus,” Luke says. “What kind of asshole was this guy?”

“Oh, it gets better. To try and make up for all that, he invested the money that was left into some pyramid scheme and got screwed. And then he lied about filing our taxes, too. The restaurant was in so much debt, my dad closed it down, and used what we had in savings to pay off the taxes we owed and all the investors and creditors.”

Luke’s eyes are practically bugging out of his head.

“And that led to us not being able to afford our house anymore and it was really awkward living in Green Ridge, where everyone either felt sorry for us or thought we had something to do with the money disappearing, so we decided to move here to take over my grandmother’s old house. It’s paid off, so the only thing my parents have to worry about is the taxes,” I say.

Luke stops in his tracks, his brow furrowed. “God, that totally sucks. I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

“Yeah,” I say. “If you go to college part-time, maybe you could major in business or something, so you can manage your money yourself.”

“My stepdad told me the same thing,” he says, nodding. “What’s your dad doing now?”

I tell him about the restaurant where he works and how he still seems regretful whenever anything money-related comes up. “I mean, I tried not to complain too much when we moved, but I think he knew how much it blew to have to switch schools in my junior year.”

“But then you must’ve met Hunter pretty quickly,” he says, studying his handlebars as he hops off the bike and walks next to me again.

“I did. But those were eight months of my life I wasted. I mean, I barely made friends with anyone else because of him.”

“Well, you’re making up for lost time now,” he says, and smiles again. “I mean, you were kind of quiet when I first met you, but you’re pretty all right, Agresti.”

I stare at Luke for a moment. The sun is setting behind him, making his flip-y hair glow with reddish highlights. I want to thank him—for saying I’m all right, for the interview, for bucking my preconceived notions of him and not ever making fun of me, but I’m—

Honk!

Luke and I both jump and look over our shoulders. A red pickup truck is coming toward us from behind, music blasting from its stereo. I step to one side of the street to let it pass, but Luke stays where he is. He waves at the truck, and suddenly, a blonde, pig-tailed head leans out of the passenger side window. “Luke Burke! You’re a hard man to find.”

My heart suddenly