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

seeing this. When I step outside, there’s a single sunflower laid on the railing of the porch.

I narrow my eyes playfully at Luke, who’s still on the sidewalk. I hope my face doesn’t look as doofily delighted as I feel. “Is this like a floral version of ding-dong ditch?”

“More like a romantic gesture,” he says.

“Then why are you all the way out there?” I ask.

“Just following the Agresti Rules. By my calculations we have, like, a few more weeks before we can, uh, give each other flowers in public.”

I lean on the porch railing and glance up and down my street. No one else we go to school with lives on this block, so I think we’re safe. “Well, maybe I’m going to add another provision that says Saturdays don’t count when it comes to private kissing.”

Luke leaps off his bike, tosses it on the lawn, and in seemingly one stride makes it to the porch. He’s standing in front of me and I suddenly feel shy. I make a big show of smelling the sunflower and looking at him over its giant petals.

“Are you hungover at all?” is all I can think to say.

“Hell yes, but seeing you makes me feel a thousand times better.”

“So I’m like Alka-Seltzer,” I say, unable to contain my smile.

“Better,” Luke says.

I peek up and down the street, then lower the sunflower. “We’ve only got thirteen kissing hours left in this Saturday. Maybe we should make the most of—”

I can’t even get the “them” out, because Luke wraps his arms around me, lifts me up so we’re eye level. Then he glances down at my pajama pants.

“Whoa, are those surfing cats?”

I kiss him in response.

Being secretly involved with someone is a lot harder than I thought. No one tells you that you’re going to be thinking about this person all day, and yet you have to pretend like you’re totally meh about them when you’re in their presence. Especially when you just happen to be exiting a classroom together and his ex passes by and they say hi to each other and her eyes light up, happy to see him. Or when you sit in front of him at an assembly and can only smile at each other. Or when your school’s resident gossip blogger has a front-row seat for the only class you share together.

For instance, when we’re in class and making cinnamon pretzels, standing right next to each other at the counter, I want so badly for our arms to brush, but Luke is—maddeningly—keeping his elbows tucked into his side as he braids the dough.

I sigh involuntarily.

“What’s wrong?” Isaiah says as he dries a freshly washed bowl.

I want to grab Luke and drag him into the pantry so I can run my hands through his hair and kiss him till I’m completely out of breath. What I say is, “This day is dragging.”

“Not enough action for you, Agresti?” Luke says, not making eye contact with me.

“I’ve had more exciting afternoons,” I say, as boredly as possible. Only after I’ve said it do I realize it sounds like I’m referring to the afternoons of the last few days where Luke and I find a quiet place and make out like there’s no tomorrow. I decided we could see each other super secretly until it’s safe to “go public” and Luke seems more than okay with it.

I see the dimple appear in Luke’s left cheek and realize he’s trying not to laugh.

I go to grab the dish soap, and as I do, my fingers accidentally brush the top of Luke’s hand, which is resting on the counter. His mouth drops open, as if he’s jokingly scandalized by this action, but then his eyes soften and he gives me a small, incredibly hot smile, and I can’t help it when a giggle escapes.

Of course, that little moment somehow caught Jared’s attention, and his face is scrunched up in concentration, as if trying to figure out what he just saw.

Crap.

Quickly, I contort my face into something I hope doesn’t scream “flirty.” And I make sure to ignore Luke the rest of class.

I’m still thinking about that an hour later while proofreading tomorrow’s RHHS TV script. According to Luke, Greta is heading out for some kind of training for a week so if Jared does sniff something out, she’ll at least be in Canada and won’t have to see Luke and me for a few days. My phone buzzes then, and it’s a text from Luke: Risking your phone’s battery life to see if you want to meet at 4:30 at the skate park.

Worth the risk. See you there, I text back. I don’t realize I’m grinning till I hear Alisha say, “Someone’s happy the day’s over!”

I quickly stash my phone in my hoodie’s pocket. “Yeah, it’s been dragging.”

Alisha crouches down next to me, smiling excitedly. “Well, this is top secret, but I’ve got to tell you. The weather reporter position is opening up! Chris and Mia are going to ask you if you want the job.”

My eyes must bug out in alarm because Alisha squeezes my arm. “Only if you want the gig. They won’t pressure you. And you’ll have some time to think about it because you wouldn’t start till Thanksgiving week.”

I slump back in my chair. Doing reports every now and then is one thing, but a daily gig? That’s live? That just seems … absolutely terrifying. But Alisha is looking at me so hopefully that I can’t bear to let her down. And I can’t deny that taking the job would probably make Brynn and Kim and Hunter’s heads explode. “I will. Think about it, that is. And thank you for warning me and giving me time to prepare.”

She smiles at me, but then her brow furrows. She glances over her shoulder, as if making sure no one’s in earshot. “There’s something else I wanted to ask.”

“You’re not going to ask me to be an anchorperson, I hope,” I say with a nervous