The Secret Recipe for Moving On

by Karen Bischer

  “Thanks, that would be so, so awesome,” Alisha beams, as the timer goes off on the oven. “The less to do later, the better!”

  I take a few grocery bags out into the living room, where a couple of people I recognize say hello to me. I take a moment to gauge what everyone else is wearing and realize I totally overthought my ensemble, since every other girl is also in jeans and boots.

  I roll my eyes at my earlier angst and grab some cans and bottles off the floor. It seems like a lot of the crowd is gathered now in the dining room, where beer pong has been set up.

  A group of four girls, cheerleaders, I think, are dancing all up on each other, and if they’re doing it to make the guys salivate, they’ve succeeded. Jared, for example, is staring at them openmouthed from across the room. It’s so rare to see him speechless about anything that I actually laugh.

  That’s when I hear it.

  “Oh my god, Hunter, everyone’s here!”

  My hands twist around the top of the grocery bag as if on reflex. I don’t even need to look to know it’s Brynn. Perhaps I’m a glutton for punishment, because I turn to see Steve, Hunter, and Brynn coming through the front door. Or, should I say, Brynn staggering through the door.

  “Someone’s wasted already,” Tasha Harrison, the captain of the softball team, says from the couch. Her boyfriend, Nate Yu, just kind of stares in disbelief.

  “Yes, ma’am!” Brynn yells back, shoving her fist in the air. Kim’s party must’ve been a dressier occasion because the guys are wearing ties under their sweaters and Brynn’s in a black sheath dress with a purple cardigan.

  “She, uh, had a little too much wine,” Hunter says with what sounds like a forced laugh.

  “I wanted to be loose,” Brynn says loudly. “For this party!”

  I am definitely not in the right headspace for this. Maybe I should have finished that beer after all.

  Brynn plops down on the couch, pushing Tasha practically onto Nate’s lap. “We almost didn’t come, but then I was like, ‘These are our classmates. We really should be bonding with them instead of scorning them.’” She doesn’t seem to notice Tasha and Nate roll their eyes at each other when she says this.

  Hunter smiles tightly and then seems to notice that I’m staring at them. You’re not supposed to be here is probably the expression I’m wearing because he looks apologetic.

  I scoot my way through the throngs, back to the kitchen, where Alisha is arranging some mini pizzas on a plate.

  “Holy crap, are you okay?” she asks. “You look like your head’s about to explode.”

  “Brynn and Hunter are here,” I say, and Alisha’s face falls.

  “Oh god, I’m sorry,” she says. “If you want to go…”

  But suddenly, a flicker of defiance comes alive in me. I don’t know if I drank enough beer for it to have been “liquid courage” but something is making me feel brave.

  “No. I’m not letting them scare me away from a perfectly good party!”

  “Rock on,” Alisha says, giving me a high five.

  I grab a plate of mini meatballs and march back out into the living room. If I can’t bond with my classmates over alcohol, by god, I’ll do it by feeding them.

  And sure enough, everyone swarms around me the second I get back to the living room. They smile and say hello and, really, the alcohol hasn’t made them mean or nasty like I feared. Instead, they’re all just really hungry. I look for Hunter, as if to say, “See? I don’t need you,” but I don’t see him or Brynn on the couch anymore. Probably off making out somewhere and messing up—

  “Oh my god, she’s totally going to vom!” someone yells.

  I turn in time to see Brynn running into the living room, her hand over her mouth. Hunter is behind her, his hands full with a red cup and giant bottle of water. When Brynn stops suddenly by the fireplace, Hunter leans over her shoulder and whispers something, and that gets her to turn around … and puke all over his sweater.

  “Ugh” is the general crowd consensus as everyone clears the vicinity. I feel like this should be a victorious moment for me, but I’m too grossed out to feel anything but skeeved.

  Hunter stands there seemingly conflicted between wanting to help Brynn and wanting to take his sweater off.

  “Dude, get her outside, now,” Darpan yells. “She got some on the rug.”

  Everyone is just kind of staring at them, and some people start to laugh. Brynn is completely green, and Hunter looks like he wants to evaporate right there. Nope, the only victory I feel here is that this isn’t my living room. Which makes me instantly feel for Alisha.

  I step over to them, but stay a good few feet away. Hunter eyes me up and down, as if he’s surprised I’m daring to be anywhere near them at the moment. “Go clean yourself up and then clean the rug,” I say as briskly as possible. “I’ll take her outside.”

  “Ellie, you don’t—”

  “No, I do. I don’t want Alisha’s house getting drenched in vomit.”

  Hunter nods. “Thanks.”

  Since I don’t want to be thrown up on, I steer Brynn from behind by her shoulders out to the front porch. I grab a few of my grocery bags on the way out for good measure.

  Thankfully, the cold air has driven the make-out couple inside, and it’s just Brynn and me standing on the porch. I make the executive decision to sit us on the stairs since I don’t want Brynn puking all over the porch swing cushion.

  “What are we doing?” Brynn asks, her head lolling to the side.

  “We’re getting you some air,” I say tightly.

  “Why are you being nice to me?” she slurs. “You shouldn’t be so nice to me.”

  “This isn’t being nice, this is making sure you don’t puke on Alisha’s rug.”

  “Kay,” Brynn says. “But you can hate me. I know you do. I would.”

  “It’s okay.” This is so not the response I ever thought I’d give her, but I fear if I told her it really sucks to have your boyfriend stolen from you, she’d start making a big scene out of it as only a drunk person can.

  “Ellie, I’m not a bad person,” she says, her face turning more red than green.

  “I never said you were,” I say. Then again, I did call her an asshole. And a “piece of work.” But she’s in no condition for logic at the moment, so I hope she lets that go by without argument.

  “You need to know,” Brynn says, and I see giant tears forming in her eyes …

  This can’t be good.

  “… I never meant to hurt you. It’s just—”

  “Agresti, hey!” We both look up and see Luke and Greta coming up the path to the house. They’re both walking stiffly, with their hands in their pockets. I, however, am thankful to them for breaking up this extremely awkward and unwanted heart-to-heart.

  “What are you guys doing outside?” Greta says, as Brynn’s head flops to her knees. “Not enough action in there? I knew there wouldn’t be.”

  Luke gives her an exasperated look that plainly says, “Come on,” and I wonder if they’re on the same page about being at this party.

  “Brynn’s, uh, a little sick,” I say, and it’s kind of funny to watch Luke and Greta both step back at once.

  “Is this weird for you?” Luke asks, squinting at me.

  “A little,” I say, Brynn apparently not hearing. “But we can’t have her pass out on the porch by herself now, can we?”

  Greta shakes her head. “You’re a better person than I am.”

  They both step past us. “See you inside,” Luke says, with a wave over his shoulder.

  I hope Brynn will just sit quietly—where is Hunter anyway?—but no such luck. She picks her head up and her face is totally tear-stained. “Ellie, I’m so sorry.”

  “We’ve addressed that already,” I say, wondering what I have to do for her to stop bringing this up. “We’re okay.”

  “But I don’t want you thinking I’m a man stealer,” she says, and I wonder if the tears are going to freeze to her face. “I didn’t move
in on him just to take him from you. I love Hunter. I’ve always loved him. Since we were kids. I never had the guts to tell him until…”

  “You found out I was going to sleep with him,” I finish. “And then you probably sent that info in to The Buzz, right?”

  That’s all I need to say. Brynn’s flat-out sobbing. “I’m such a terrible person.”

  I don’t respond with anything since nothing seems to appease her anyway, and suddenly, she’s clutching my arm so I have to look right at her. “He said you guys were done and you knew it,” she says between sobs.

  I shake my head. Of course he’d lie about it.

  “And even though I figured out he lied … I just can’t help it. I really love Hunter. Like, truly love him. I wouldn’t have tried to get between you guys if I didn’t. You need to know that.”

  Two months ago, I probably would’ve yelled at her, “And I didn’t love him?” But looking at her right here, wracked with shuddering sobs and her hair sticking to her face, I don’t hate her. In fact, I almost feel sorry for her. And a little sorry for myself, too, since the cold air is cutting through my sweater right now.

  I give her an awkward pat on the back and she rests her head on my shoulder. Okay, I wasn’t going for that level of friendliness, but I don’t push her off because it makes her stop talking. Instead, she’s finally quiet. And by the time Hunter comes out, stripped down to his undershirt, my hands and face are completely numb, and Brynn’s fast asleep.

  “I think I cleaned it all up,” he says. “Thank you for sitting with her.”

  “You’re welcome,” I say, steadying Brynn as I stand up.

  Hunter puts his hands under her arms and lifts her up. “Come on, Brynn, I’m going to take you home.”

  Brynn makes some kind of unintelligible noise as Hunter wraps her arm around his shoulders.

  I hand him a plastic bag. “Better safe than sorry,” I say.

  “Seriously, Ellie,” Hunter says. “You really didn’t have to do this.”

  “No, I didn’t. But this seemed like the better option than cleaning up the puke.”

  “Well, you chose wisely,” Hunter says, shaking his head. He leads Brynn down the stairs toward the driveway. “See you Monday.”

  “See you,” I say.

  It’s strange, but as I watch them walk away, I realize that for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel a pang of sadness or anger as they go. In fact, I don’t feel much of anything.

  But that could be because I’m frozen solid. With that, I head back into the fray.

  CHAPTER 16

  When I get inside, I check my phone, thinking three hours must have passed since I arrived, but no, I’ve only been here a little over an hour. How is that even possible? I mean, I’ve ingested half a beer with the football team, passed out food to the drunken masses, and helped out an undeserving ex in need. Surely that’s way more than one night’s worth of action for the average person.

  “Agresti!”

  I spin around and see Luke and Greta sitting on the stairs in the living room. Luke has a beer, but Greta is empty-handed, and they’re also sitting a step apart, and not next to each other. There’s a definite chilly vibe going on between them and I almost regret plopping down on the stair below Greta.

  “I didn’t take you for a partier,” Luke says. I notice he’s wearing a sweater instead of his usual T-shirt. It’s navy and makes him seem more broad-shouldered than usual and makes his eyes look really blue.

  Not that that means anything to me.

  “I, uh, decided to branch out,” I say, looking around the room and hoping Greta doesn’t think I was just checking out her boyfriend.

  “By helping the inebriated?” Greta laughs.

  “I definitely didn’t plan on that,” I say, shaking my head. “But I will say seeing Brynn projectile vomit was a cautionary tale for the evening.”

  Luke leans back on the stair. “So you haven’t been drinking?”

  “No. The football team gifted me with a beer, but it started to make me feel a little, uh, not-so-good myself so I stopped.”

  “And you threw some grocery shopping in there?” Greta asks, pointing at my bag.

  “Actually, I was helping Alisha out before that. You know, picking up empty bottles and cans and stuff.”

  “Hon,” Greta says, patting my shoulder. “It’s a party. You should have fun, not work your ass off. And you definitely shouldn’t be sitting outside without a coat.”

  I’m surprised how warm she comes off when she says this, and not sarcastic. Then she stands up. “I’m gonna bail. I told Ginger I’d pick her up at five for Vermont tomorrow.”

  “Oh, right,” Luke says, shaking the faraway look from his eyes. “Okay.”

  Greta merely squeezes his knee when she climbs down the stairs. I half expect Luke to stand up and grab her hand to kiss her goodbye or something, but he just stays where he is on the step.

  We both watch Greta leave, and literally as she’s walking out the door, A.J. comes in with a tall guy in a beanie who I’m pretty sure is his friend Patrick. I’m kind of relieved to see him, since I’m not really sure what I should say to Luke at the moment.

  “Yo,” A.J. says, spotting us on the stairs, as Patrick makes a beeline for the living room keg. “What’d I miss?”

  I roll my eyes. “Some minor drama involving the result of too much wine, but nothing much aside from that.”

  A.J. looks confused, but doesn’t say anything. “I smell something cooking. Where can I get some of that? I’m starving.”

  “Alisha’s in the kitchen making appetizers and—”

  “Great!” A.J. says, his face lighting up. With that, he practically sprints into the kitchen.

  “Was it something I said?” I say.

  Luke laughs and takes a sip of his beer. “Yeah, I think it was ‘appetizers.’”

  We sit in silence for a few minutes, surveying the scene. We can see the beer pong action from our perch, and Bryce and Anthony are apparently dominating, if their constant whooping is any indication.

  “Want some help picking up empties?” Luke asks. He shakes his empty beer can and throws it in my bag.

  “Uh, sure,” I say.

  We pick ourselves off the stairs and roam around the living room, which is now loud and crowded, grabbing cans and bottles.

  “Did everything end up okay out there?” Luke asks. “I saw Hunter leave.”

  “It was fine,” I say, thunking an empty beer bottle into my bag. “If you don’t count the sobbing and begging to be forgiven stuff. Just a typical Friday night, you know?”

  “Agresti,” Luke says seriously, making me stop what I’m doing and look right at him. “We’re at a party, right?”

  “Well, it’s certainly not home ec,” I say, glancing around the boisterous room.

  His face breaks into a broad grin, and he looks more like his old self than he has since he got here. “Then let’s have some fun.”

  It’s hard not to smile back, though I’m not exactly sure what he means by this. “Okay, but … Alisha. I told her I’d hang out with her.”

  Luke sets down an empty beer bottle on the fireplace mantel and surprises me by setting my garbage bag down and grabbing my hand. “Come on,” he says, leading me toward the kitchen.

  Alisha is arranging some mini pizza bagels on a cookie sheet, and she’s surrounded by other plates full of hot appetizers. A.J. is leaning on the counter, practically drooling as he surveys the sea of hot goodies.

  “Hey, guys!” Alisha says. “Want some snackage?”

  Luke grabs a mini hot dog with one hand, his other still clasped around mine. I decide that if my face is red, it’s because the kitchen is still overly warm from the oven being on. “Delicious,” he declares as he munches down the hot dog in one bite. “Now, Alisha, don’t you want to enjoy your party?”

  Her brow furrows. “It would be nice to get out of this kitchen for a little bit, even if it’s just to survey the damage.”
/>   “I’ll totally watch the apps for you, yo!” A.J. says, popping off the counter. “Like, I can make sure no one gets more than me.”

  Alisha smiles at him, touching his arm. “You rock, A.J. I owe you one.”

  A.J.’s face turns bright red and I wonder if he maybe likes Alisha more than mini hot dogs.

  Luke then takes Alisha’s hand and leads us both out to the living room.

  “Oh my god, it’s a mess,” Alisha says, scrunching her eyes shut.

  “Don’t worry about that now. We’ll help you clean up,” Luke says. “Now, who’s up for beer pong?”

  “Oh, I’m not drinking anymore,” I say just as Alisha adds, “I have to stay sober in case the cops come.”

  “Not a problem,” Luke says. “You guys can play with soda. We’ll find someone else drinking beer, and we’ll have an even match.”

  I expect Alisha to balk, but she suddenly brightens. “I know just the person,” she says, pointing to Willow, who’s just walked in. “Hey, Willow!” she says, waving her over.

  Willow dances over in time to the rap song that’s blasting over the speakers. “What’s up, y’all?”

  “Want to be my partner for beer pong?” Alisha asks.

  Willow rips her coat off and throws it over a chair. “Bring it on!”

  “This is hardly a fair fight,” Luke says, his eyes twinkling.

  “What, you think just because I’m small I can’t keep up with a giant like you?” Willow says, pushing up her sleeves.

  “Welllllll,” Luke says with a shrug.

  “She can totally hold her own,” Alisha says, nodding enthusiastically.

  “This I gotta see,” Luke says as he sets to work clearing the cups off the table and Alisha replaces them with new ones. They then fill some of the cups with soda and others with beer. Luke and I stand at one end of the table and Alisha pretends to glare at us from the other end.

  “You guys ready to get creamed?” Luke says.

  “In your dreams, Burke,” Alisha retorts, and Willow high-fives her.