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

from his pocket and steps over to all of us. “Yeah, they have a family day there every Saturday in October.” He scrolls through his phone, then pulls up an ad proclaiming “Family Fun Day at Glenwood Park Racetrack” for this coming Saturday. I don’t know how the stars aligned for that, but I’m glad.

I don’t realize we’ve attracted Synergy’s attention until Hannah jumps in with a “Um, that’s for real families.”

“And Mrs. Sanchez just wants us to find an activity, not actually do it,” Brynn says.

“Well, we’re clearly just more motivated than you, yo,” A.J. says, catching on.

I nod, even though I’m thinking, Wait, do we really want to all hang out on the weekend?

“Uh, you have to be eighteen to bet on horses in New Jersey,” Hunter says as if we’re all idiots that this hadn’t occurred to us.

“You don’t have to be eighteen to go to the track,” Isaiah says. “Just to bet.”

Luke shrugs. “But if we wanted to, I could bet. I’m eighteen now, so—”

“You’re eighteen?” I cut him off. “Since when?”

“Since last week,” he says.

I don’t know why, but I suddenly feel bad. “Your birthday was last week and you didn’t say anything?”

Luke shrugs. “It’s not a big deal. I mean, it’s not like Christmas.” His eyes light up when he says this.

“Christmas?” I say with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, Christmas,” he says, rubbing his hands together. “It’s my favorite time of year.”

The idea of six-foot-five, tattooed Luke being overtaken by the Christmas spirit is almost too much for me to handle, and I burst into giggles.

“What?” he asks.

“I’m just picturing you with tinsel in your hair and stars in your eyes as you wait for Santa.”

“No, no, I’m not like that,” he says, his eyes twinkling. “I only wear the stringed popcorn.”

“Ahem,” A.J. says, and I realize everyone is staring at Luke and me. Especially Hunter, and even Mrs. Sanchez, who has returned. I quickly turn back to the sink.

Synergy, Bryce, and Anthony retreat back to their kitchens then, muttering about what a bunch of weirdos we are.

“So, we’re really going to do this?” A.J. says. “The racetrack? Like with shady dudes smoking cigars and people blowing their life savings away?”

“And also the place where families go to watch horse races,” Luke says.

“Awesome, I’m in,” A.J. says.

“You guys really want to go to the racetrack?” Isaiah says, his eyes wide in disbelief.

“Yeah, why not?” I say. “I like horses. They’re cute.”

“And Glenwood Park looks beautiful,” Luke says. “It’s a nice way to spend time outside, you know?”

I’m suddenly struck with an idea and turn around. “Mrs. Sanchez? If we actually do our family activity, can we do a report on it in our monthly budget and submit it for extra points?”

Mrs. Sanchez straightens up and smiles. “I think that’s a wonderful idea, Ms. Agresti.”

I can feel Brynn scowling at me without even having to look, it’s amazing. I even hear Hunter mutter something under his breath.

“Okay,” Isaiah finally says, still looking unsure. “But I don’t know if my mom’s going to let me go. She hates the racetrack.”

“Even for a class project?” A.J. says. “It’s an, uh, educational outing.”

Isaiah bites his lip and shrugs.

“Maybe we can have Agresti drive, since moms trust girls more,” Luke says, and I nod, knowing my parents are going to be home on Saturday and won’t need the car. He smiles broadly. “And Agresti’s every mom’s dream. She’ll give us mom cred.”

Mom cred?

I shake my head at Luke. “Whatever it takes, especially with points on the line, I guess.”

He winks at me in response.

“I’m leaving,” I call into the basement Saturday morning. My parents are down there organizing stuff to sell at flea markets for some extra money. “Thanks for letting me take the car.”

Mom comes up the stairs carrying an armful of old board games. “Have fun. It’s you and your home ec group, right?”

“Yep,” I say, grabbing my jacket. “A.J., Isaiah the horse racing fan, and Luke.”

Mom’s eyes suddenly light up. “Luke’s the one I’ve seen you walking home with, right? The hunky one?”

I freeze as I’m shrugging the jacket on. “I guess?”

“You guess you walk home with him or you guess he’s good-looking? What’s going on there, anyway?”

“There’s nothing happening there,” I snap, my heart suddenly hammering, and Mom flinches. She’s only teasing you. Calm the hell down, Mary Ellen.

“Sorry,” I say. “What I mean is … he has a girlfriend. We’re just friends.”

Mom nods like she gets it, but I’m alarmed at how my initial instinct was PMS-levels of defensiveness.

I’m saved when my dad emerges from the basement with a box of books. “Have a good time with the horses. But if any mafia goons approach you, tell them you’re Italian, but not that Italian.”

“It’s not going to be shady. It’s Family Day.”

“Doesn’t the mafia call themselves a family? Then this might be the ideal setting for them.”

That actually gets me to laugh, and I’m glad. Clearly, I’m feeling jittery about this whole experience and I chalk it up to being nervous about spending an entire day with all the guys. What if we have nothing to say to each other beyond our class assignments? It’s going to make for an awkward afternoon.

I walk outside and I’m greeted by a beautiful fall day. It’s sunny and warm, the sky is bright blue, and there’s a light breeze blowing through the red and yellow leaves. I have no idea if this is good horse-racing weather, but it seems like it should be.

I’m unlocking the driver’s side door when I see Luke coming up the street. I freeze, wondering if my mom is watching from behind the curtains.

He waves. “You ready for Family Day at the Races, Agresti?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I say.

“We are fam-il-y,” he sings in a high-pitched voice as he opens up the front passenger’s side door. “I got all my, uh, classmates and me.”

“You may want to stick to biking,” I say, giggling as I start the car.

We pick up A.J. first.