The Secret Recipe for Moving On by Karen Bischer (ebook reader for manga txt) 📕

It’s only then that I realize my hands are shaking and that several people in the cafeteria are watching me. With my heart hammering, I practically sprint to the bathroom. I make it into a stall before I start full-on sobbing.

I somehow make it to lunch without melting down again, probably because I’ve reached a phase of “I can’t even think about this anymore” numbness. But the humiliation factor is upped when I get to the cafeteria and notice the table I sat at yesterday is empty. Steve is nowhere to be seen. I spot Brynn and Kim, miraculously reappearing at lunch today, at a table with some of their friends from the Politics Club. They don’t even glance in my direction.

I scan the rest of the room to see if there’s anyone I know, anybody to keep me from being “that cold fish girl who sits alone at lunch.” The only person I see is Isaiah from home ec. He’s sitting at the end of an empty table, engrossed in some kind of newspaper and seemingly not bothered at all that he’s sitting by himself.

That’s when the doors to the cafeteria burst open, and Paul comes sprinting through, the head of Harry the Hornet, the school’s mascot, under his arm. He’s followed by one of the school security guards who pants, “Wilder, you’re already going to be expelled for that so you may as well give it up.”

Paul ignores him and continues on his mad dash through the cafeteria and out the back door. Everyone else is laughing, or aiming their phones at him to try and record it, or both.

Steve arrives then and drops his backpack on the table. “What the hell was that? Did he have Harry’s head?”

“It looks like it,” I say, relieved he’s talking to me. “You didn’t see anything coming in?”

Steve shakes his head. “No, I was just at the guidance counselor. I wanted to drop creative writing and switch into mechanical drawing. Unfortunately, the only time it’s available is this period, so I’m switching in tomorrow.”

“This period?” I say, feeling my shoulders sag.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I didn’t mean to ditch you.”

Part of me is relieved that Steve seems concerned about me. But that’s completely sucked away when I feel his hand on my knee.

“I’m really sorry about what happened between you and Hunter.” He seems sincere, but I don’t have time to really analyze it because the hand-on-the-knee thing kind of weirds me out. I quickly jerk my knee away and lock my feet around the chair’s legs.

“Have you, uh, been on The Buzz?” I ask.

He looks down at his lunch. I’m not sure if it’s because I just yanked my knee away or because of the question. “Yeah. Are you okay?”

“Not really. Have you seen Hunter today? Does he know about it?” I say.

Steve shakes his head. “No. I haven’t really talked to him since before he went to Brynn’s for dinner the other night. He’s been kind of MIA.”

To Brynn’s for dinner. My stomach starts to knot. I wonder if he told her about the cold fish thing and the “sex outing” and if she advised him to break up with me. Over at their table, she and Kim are laughing hysterically about something. Probably what a joke it was that Hunter would ever date me.

“I hate everyone,” I mutter.

Steve gives a light laugh. “Not me, I hope,” he says, and his hand finds my knee again.

“Knock it off,” I tell him, my voice breaking.

“I’m just trying to be nice,” he says, removing his hand.

“Well, you’re being a little too nice,” I say, standing up.

So this is how it’s going to be. Half the school is going to see me as a total prude who won’t give it up, and the other half is going to think I was days away from being a raging slut but wasn’t good enough for Hunter.

Steve starts to say he’s sorry, but I grab my bag and my lunch and leave the room.

I go through the rest of the day practically holding my breath, waiting for someone to whisper “cold fish” at me and for everyone to start laughing, but aside from a few sidelong glances, nothing really happens. Maybe people couldn’t decode the blind item about me, since barely anyone knows who I am to begin with.

When I get to the home ec room, Steve and I manage to avoid each other. I’m relieved that he doesn’t say anything, because I’m still kind of weirded out by the whole lunch thing.

That’s when Hunter walks in. It’s the first time I’ve seen him all day, and he’s wearing a dark-green polo shirt that shows off his tan. He looks incredible in that color, and it hits me, hard, that he isn’t mine anymore. And that he told people I’m a “cold fish.”

I feel like I’m about to start tearing up, but then Hunter takes the seat diagonally across the table from me, as if going out of his way not to interact with me. The urge to cry screeches to a halt, but my face gets hot and my hands start to shake. I’m suddenly afraid I might blow up right there in the middle of the class, and that’s the last thing I want. No way am I giving Hunter the satisfaction of dumping me, then being all, “Don’t you see she’s crazy? Can you blame me?” So I make myself hyper-into what Mrs. Sanchez is saying.

“Budgeting is the cornerstone to any home, be it a single person, a couple, or a family. Without knowing how to spend your money, you risk not having enough to cover your expenses.”

Mrs. Sanchez spends the rest of the class explaining what should be in every budget: utilities, credit card bills, cell phones, food, hobbies, college loan payments, savings, mortgages, and rent. I think of how little money my parents make and how it barely covers anything on the list (I know for