Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 100: Mushroom Hunting
Abby

The weight of failure feels almost physical, like there’s something sharp and heavy literally lodged in

my chest.

I stare at the computer screen displaying “Truffles Unavailable” in blunt, red letters. I’ve sent countless

emails to suppliers, spent hours scouring online marketplaces, and I’ve even visited local storefronts to

browse their selection, all to no avail.

A part of me wants to give up on the recipe altogether, to throw in the towel and declare the universe

the winner in this sadi stic game it’s been playing with me. I could hope that this recipe won’t be chosen,

or at the very least, that I can read enough about it online to get a good idea as to how to make it.

But another part—perhaps the stubborn or perhaps the hopeful part—won’t let me settle for that. What

if this recipe is chosen for the competition? What if the online recipes just don’t do it justice? I need to

be prepared, and this could be my last shot at turning things around.

I close the laptop with a sigh, my eyes drifting to a framed picture of me and Chloe on a past

mushroom hunting trip. It’s not truffles, but maybe, just maybe, I could find something close, something

that’ll at least help me practice the textures and flavors.

…

“Going somewhere?” The voice slices through my thoughts, and I turn around to see Karl standing at

the doorway, his eyes lingering on my hiking boots and backpack. It’s early in the morning, too early for

anyone but me to be here. And yet there’s Karl, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, as my grandmother used

to say.

“That’s none of your business,” I shoot back, my voice carrying a sharper edge than I intended. But

really, the last thing I need right now is more complications, more entanglement with him.

He steps into the room, the door falling shut behind him. “Abby, don’t be like this. I told you that I want

to help.”

that, but I don’t need help,” I interject, zipping up my backpack with

since I was a kid. I’ll

studies me for a moment, his eyes penetrating, like he’s looking right through

around here, you

“but I need to do something, okay?

his voice turning stern, his posture more rigid. “Then let me

you.”

energy in his eyes, a

the restrained Karl I’ve been dealing with lately. And in that moment, something

way.

hear myself say. “You can

eyes meet mine, and for a split second, I see something there, a

“Good,” he says, his voice softening. “I’ll get

office, staring at the empty

did I just

…

beneath my boots, each step mu ffled by

earth.

in the early morning air, casting the forest in surreal grays

maybe a nightmare, if something were to come

softly echoing my own. We

the ground

I point to a cluster near a huge oak tree’s gnarled

leaning down to take a closer

laugh, brushing away leaves to reveal the reddish-brown caps. “Definitely not the truffles

yes, they are edible.”

for a while, discovering

more

lesson as I identify them, and the tension that’s been clinging

slowly begins to lift.

do you remember that time we went mushroom hunting

a prolonged silence. “You had to stop me from picking

a tinge of nostalgia sweeping over me. “You were so excited,

it right up and ended up in the emergency

and for a brief moment, the

and nothing else. But then guilt seeps in, muddying the moment.

I just lost my two best friends because

But then, something happens.

sc atter as a distant shout cuts through the mist, followed by the disconcerting sound of

echoing between

pulling me behind a large oak.