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

“How can we be that bad at beer pong, Luke?” I squeal as we leave Alisha’s house. “Oh my god, it’s cold!” My heart is hammering and my hands are shaking, but I’m way giggly. There’s no way I’m sleeping tonight, thanks to all that sugar. Maybe I should’ve stuck with the alcohol after all.

Luke cups his hands around his mouth and yells/sings, “Weeeeee aren’t the champions, my friehennnd.”

I whack him in the arm, unable to control my laughter. “You’re going to wake the dead.”

“Yeah, singing’s not my specialty,” Luke says. “Nor is throwing Ping-Pong balls into cups. But I kind of suck at basketball, too, so it makes sense. My little brother says that even though I’m tall, I don’t look like a basketball player. What does that even mean?”

“Who needs to look like a basketball player anyway?” I say, skipping in front of him. “Especially when you’re what Almanzo Wilder is supposed to look like!” What am I thinking? Oh, wait, I’m not. It’s the overabundance of sweetened caffeine I ingested talking.

Luke stops in his tracks and laughs so hard that he doubles over, resting his hands on his knees. “Who is that?”

“You know, from the Little House books.”

“And I look like this guy?” he says, wiping his eyes.

“No, you should.”

“I am so confused right now,” Luke says, and he starts laughing again. “I just hope it’s a good thing.”

“It is, I think,” I say, giggling. “I had a crush on him. At least the one I had pictured in my mind.” I realize what I’ve just said, and before Luke can register that, I babble on, “And then I got into my Weather Channel anchorman stage.”

“You had crushes on anchormen?” he says, and it looks like he’s on the verge of cracking up again.

“And reporters! Those guys who go out into the crazy weather and report from the middle of hurricanes and stuff? I found that really hot when I was twelve.”

There’s no hope now. Luke is doubled over again. “Man, Agresti, you’re on fire tonight.”

“Well, maybe not so much in the beer pong department,” I say.

“We all have our talents. You and I just aren’t going to take the beer pong circuit by storm in college is all,” Luke says, wiping his eyes. Then he looks up. “So, weather expert. There’s a ring around the moon. Does that mean anything?”

I study the almost-full moon. There’s a giant halo surrounding it and it’s quite gorgeous.

“It’s ice crystals,” I say, noticing I can see my breath in the moonlight. I can also see the natural highlights of Luke’s hair. “It means it might warm up a bit, thank god.”

“Damn, I was hoping for snow,” Luke says. “But does it have any other meanings? Like, is it an omen?”

“That’s my mom’s territory, not mine. She’s into all that new age stuff,” I say. Then I cringe, remembering how that bothered Hunter so much.

But Luke surprises me when he replies, “That’s so cool. Does she have crystals and stuff? My aunt has a whole bunch of those around her house.”

“Oh, she has crystals, all right. And incense. And tarot cards.”

“So, your mom likes to read into the future … and you like to predict the weather,” he says. His eyes go wide like he’s just discovered the theory of relativity or something.

He’s pretty cute when he’s drunk.

“You might be onto something. Oh my god, it’s so friggin’ cold!” I hug myself to try to retain some body heat.

“Come on, you’re wearing like three layers of clothes—no way you’re that cold. I’ll race you to that stop sign,” he says, pointing up ahead. “That can warm you up.”

Then he takes off with no warning.

“No fair! You don’t need a head start. Your legs are like an entire foot longer than mine,” I yell, but do my best to catch up. The only problem is, I’m laughing so hard I start coughing and have to stop. Luke jogs back toward me and pounds me on the back, to aid with my coughing.

“You’re such a gentleman,” I cough-laugh.

“And don’t you forget it,” he says. His hand lingers on my back and even through I’m wearing “three layers of clothes,” a charge goes through me, and it makes me nervous. So, when my coughing subsides, I skip ahead, and pretty soon we’re at Luke’s street. I stop, but Luke keeps walking. “Nope, I am walking you home.”

“But it’s freezing,” I say, hopping up and down, but I feel the soda bubbles expanding in my stomach and I stop. “I can make it home fine by myself.”

Luke looks at me over his shoulder. “I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you on the way home.”

Now I burst out laughing. “Here? Yeah, I think the only thing I can be abducted by is aliens.”

“Okay, I couldn’t live with myself if you got abducted by aliens on the way home.”

I’m kind of touched by this, but I’m still feeling silly. “The JAILE family would be down one person! The horrors!”

“Ah, you got me,” he says, throwing his hands up. “I’d miss you too much. But then I’d just put a wig on Isaiah and pretend he was you.”

I’m overtaken with cough-laughs again, and pretty soon Luke is laughing so hard he can’t speak, either. I seriously can’t remember the last time I had this much fun. By the time we get to my house, I’m actually bummed. I never would’ve guessed that all those hours ago, when I was ready to hurl my mirror out the window.

I climb up the front porch stairs and look down at Luke. “If you ever want to be beer pong partners again, all you have to do is ask.”

Luke laughs. “I’m flattered, especially since I, uh, let a four-foot-eleven girl out-drink me.”

“Winning isn’t everything, you know,” I say, and mockingly wag my finger at him.

“Except in class, where we have to beat out Jared’s group and Hunter’s group,” he says, stepping closer to the porch.

“Exactly.” I