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

“She didn’t have her phone because she was hanging out with Hunter yesterday and he had it,” I hear someone hiss.

I turn around and see Brynn leaning toward our kitchen, her face red and screwed up.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Luke asks, looking between the two of us.

“She left her phone in Hunter’s car,” Brynn says, her voice going up an octave, and attracting the attention of her group. “God knows what they were doing in there for her to forget it.”

I shake my head, not even believing any of this. “For the last time: Nothing happened.”

“What’s going on?” Hunter asks, tugging at the collar of his sweater nervously.

“Just talking with Ellie over here about what a great, fabulous boyfriend you are,” Brynn snits. “Did you think you guys could hook up again and that no one would find out?”

With that, Hunter shakes his head, grabs Brynn by the hand and marches her into the pantry, where we can hear his muffled voice talking sternly and hers sounding basically hysterical.

The guys are all staring at me wide-eyed.

“Seriously,” I say, feeling my blood start to boil. “Nothing happened.”

“Sounds to me like the lady doth protest too much,” a smarmy voice pipes up. I turn around to see Jared leaning on his counter, looking like he’s mentally composing a salacious blind item in his head.

“Shut up, Jared,” I say. “You have no idea what’s going on here.”

“Oh, but I think I do,” Jared says, grinning devilishly. “You and your merry group of losers are going to finish in last place, but it seems like you’re actually a winner for finally slutting it up lately. Not bad for a former cold fish.”

In that moment, everything weirdly slows down. It’s like there’s an explosion inside me, and it bursts out to my feet, which makes me jump out of my kitchen. Then the explosion travels into my hands, which reach for Jared’s neck. I’m suddenly off the ground, tackling Jared to the floor, and his beret goes flying across the room. I feel my knee meet the tile with a hard thunk and pain registers in my brain, but I’m too busy intermittently pummeling Jared’s chest with my fists, then shaking him by the shirt collar to care.

“Get! Off!” he gasps, and I realize I’ve knocked the wind out of him. He reaches up to swat me away, but I knock his hand back with significant slap. I feel a hand on my back, like someone is trying to pull me off of him, but I somehow manage to roll Jared and me into the bottom of a nearby kitchen counter, which we knock into with such force that an entire tray of deviled eggs comes crashing down on top of us.

“Ms. Agresti! Mr. Curtis!” Mrs. Sanchez yells, and I’m vaguely aware of her running over, as I grab at deviled eggs and pelt Jared’s face and head with them. “We’re not losers, I’m not a slut, and you’re a jackass! A complete and total jackass … who … wears berets!” I scream, as he squirms underneath me. Even over the blood rushing in my ears and Jared’s yelling, I hear various noises around the classroom, from hysterical laughter (I assume the stoners), hollering something about the eggs (the meatheads) to ohmygod-ing (Steve and Hannah).

I’m in mid-throw, when someone grabs me under my arms and pulls me off of Jared, who quickly crawls away.

“You’re crazy!” he screams, his voice cracking, as he pulls himself to his feet. His group mates step away from him, as if he’s carrying some kind of disease.

My heart’s pounding so hard that I almost feel like I can’t catch my breath.

“Aw, that was pretty awesome. You’ve had that coming for a long time, dude,” Callie laughs from the Bakers’ kitchen. If I wasn’t in such a state, I think I’d probably hug her right now for saying that.

“What’s come over you, Ms. Agresti?” Mrs. Sanchez says, her eyes wide with horror.

“I’ve had it with him,” I manage to say as I shake myself free from the grasp of the person who grabbed me, and realize it’s Bryce. We’d rolled all the way into Jersey Strong’s kitchen and it was their deviled eggs I’d destroyed. I instantly feel even worse.

“Well, both your groups aren’t getting any points for this lesson, and both you and Mr. Curtis can pack your things and head to the office.” Mrs. Sanchez looks so disappointed that I want to cry.

I notice the collective shocked expression of my group changes to total annoyance. A.J. even hurls an oven mitt at the floor in disgust.

“Please,” I say, “Don’t penalize my whole group.”

“Now, Ms. Agresti,” Mrs. Sanchez says, wearily pointing to the door. “You too, Mr. Curtis.”

Jared, who has pieces of egg flecked in his hair and stuck to his forehead, swipes up his backpack and storms out. I gather my things slowly so I can give him a head start to the office.

“I’m sorry I ruined your eggs,” I whisper to Bryce. I brace myself for him to yell at me, but he surprises me by merely patting me on the shoulder. The rest of his group doesn’t look so pleased with me, but they don’t bitch at me either, and it almost makes me feel worse.

The rest of my classmates are all staring at me, some whispering and others tittering. I know I have egg in my hair, but I’m too embarrassed to shake it out. I can’t even look back at my group, seeing as how I just ruined everything for them. Tears start burning my eyes as I leave, and they thankfully don’t start falling until I get to the hall.

When I get to the principal’s office, I’m shaking as well as crying. I’ve never even gotten a detention before and I’m terrified of what’s to come.

“Oh, please, don’t try to get sympathy by being a girl and crying,” Jared says. He’s sitting in a chair closest to the principal’s door, so I take a