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

After hanging up, I notice that I start to feel a bit better, maybe because the nerd in me actually does love the first day of school.

I check my phone one last time before I leave, and when there’s no text from Hunter, I head out on foot.

When I get to school, the senior parking lot is filling up with cars and I fight back the sudden envy creeping into my stomach. I try to remind myself that a car isn’t necessary and that it would be a waste of gas for me to drive the six blocks to school every day.

As I walk past the last row of cars, I see Brynn getting out of her Jetta. I remember my pact with myself to be nicer to Hunter’s friends, so I call out, “Hey, Brynn!”

She lifts up her sunglasses and spots me, and her color seems to drain.

“Are you all right?” I ask, and she suddenly looks confused.

“Yeah, fine. You just startled me.”

“Sorry. How was your sister’s dinner?”

It’s weird, but she’s totally got beads of sweat starting around her forehead, and it’s only seventy degrees right now.

“It was great. The whole family was there. By the way, did you remember to make the papier-mâché globe for the Ringtones’ ‘Mad World’ number?”

You mean the song I suggested they do? Of course I remember. I can’t say that out loud, though, so I nod. “Yeah, I can bring it in tomorrow.”

“Good, because you know Steve is terrible with props and needs all the practice he can get. And he’s always forgetting his part in the song. It’s like, hi, how hard can it be to remember the bass line? It’s not like…”

Brynn is positively babbling at this point and I start worrying that she’s on caffeine pills. I mean, she’s an overachiever and all, but it doesn’t seem like her.

“Watch it!” I hear someone yell from behind us and all of a sudden, a figure on one of those BMX bikes flashes past, jumps the curb, and slams into a bench. The bike bounces back and its rider falls off, the bike on top of him. I suddenly feel totally guilty because, in my concern over Brynn’s chattiness, I didn’t realize we’d been walking in the bike lane.

“I’m so—” I start, but Brynn snaps at the biker, “Why don’t you watch where you’re going?”

I almost say, “You can’t be serious,” because it was our fault, but I’m more concerned with the rider. He sits up and pushes the bike off of him and I realize it’s Luke Burke, a senior who is a good foot taller than me and who has a tattoo of a lightning bolt on the back of his left calf. In other words, not someone I want to mess with.

“I didn’t realize I had to watch where I was going since I had the right of way.” Luke smiles, but the passive-aggression is all there. Then he bends down to pick up his baseball cap, which he puts on backward, and brushes off his elbow, which has a clump of grass stuck to it. “You ladies have a nice day.” He smiles again as he locks up his bike and heads inside, and it can only be interpreted as “eat shit.”

“He’s such a freak,” Brynn hisses, and I’m not surprised she’d think us blameless for being in the bike lane. Brynn can never admit to being wrong, and doubles down on the self-righteousness when she is.

When we get into the school lobby, I’m relieved when she points to the left and says, “Um, my homeroom is that way.”

“Cool, mine’s upstairs,” I say. “See you at lunch.”

“See you,” Brynn says before speeding away.

I wonder if I should say something to Hunter about Brynn’s odd behavior, but then, I’d actually have to see him for that to happen. As I walk to my homeroom, I pull out my phone and text him.

Are you here yet?

I’m still staring at my phone when someone comes through the door, holding it open for me.

“Oh, by all means, after you,” a voice says.

When I look up, Luke is standing there, smiling. I’m afraid if I go through, he’ll trip me or something, so I step back. “Oh—I’m—wrong stairway!” I sputter, and head for the stairwell on the other side of the cafeteria.

I feel like Luke is going to say something behind me, but he doesn’t. Still, I walk as fast as I can, passing the cafeteria, when I suddenly spot Hunter inside. He’s talking to Kim and has this really intense look on his face. Kim suddenly walks off in a huff, and Hunter goes the other way, toward me. I position myself outside the door, and when he bangs through it, he does not look happy to see me. I start to put two and two together. Oh my god. Kim told him I lied about the weather yesterday and now her car is a big mildewy mess.

“How are—” I start.

Hunter just grunts.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“God, can you leave me alone for just one second?” he practically yells, and it brings tears to my eyes.

Not sure what I’m supposed to say, I step back and let him pass. He does, without so much as a “see you later.”

The next time I see him is supposed to be in home ec.

Which means I have an entire torturous day to get through before then.

My heart is pounding when I get to the home ec room, and I’ve chewed off almost all my fingernails today. When people are upset with me, it always seems to manifest itself physically, and I’ve barely been able to concentrate all day as a result. It didn’t help that Brynn and Kim were mysteriously absent from lunch.

To distract myself, I study the home ec room. There are five tables arranged in the middle, and five “kitchens” around the perimeter. It’s obvious much of the room hasn’t been updated since the 1970s—each kitchen’s cabinets and counters are