Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

Abby

Duck. Pork. A flaky pastry dough.

It should be easy. I’ve practiced it a hundred times, tasted it a thousand. It’s one

of my favorite French dishes to make, and yet, as the stage descends into

organized chaos…

I’m frozen.

My eyes are wide like a deer in headlights. The deafening roar of the crowd, the

sound of voices and cooking utensils, the movement of the cameras and the

announcer’s voice booming over the microphone—all of it is too much.

Enter title…

Suddenly, I feel as though I’m being transported back in time, back to a time

when I was much younger…

the end of my first semester.

to compete in a style not all that much unlike

minus the sky-high stakes and the television production

was gathered around our stainless steel

our professor—Chef

announcing our task for

preparing beef stroganoff. A

expect each and every

techniques we have been practicing all semester. You

action, I felt my hands go clammy. I

ingredients in front of me, but my

could I forget something as basic as

moment,

my mind clean.

matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t remember how to

me felt

seemed to be taking on the

a skillet in their hand. Then

treated every class like a