Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

Abby
“What’s going on?” I ask Karl as we approach the restaurant, checking my
watch. The lights are off and it’s an hour before closing. “Why is it so dark?”
“Um, actually, I wanted to tell you earlier but I figured you’d rather see it
firsthand,” Karl says, looking a little embarrassed. “So, the power went out...”
My eyes widen. “You’re joking. Seriously?”
Karl nods. “Yeah. We closed the restaurant early. The electric company said it’s
a power grid issue.”
Enter title...
I sigh and pass my hand over my face. “Geez. Alright... It’s fine, I guess. Where
is everyone? I thought you said there was a surprise.”
Nodding again, Karl gestures for me to follow. We open the front door and walk
in. “They’re in the back,” he says, clearing his throat. “Just lit some candles and
ordered some pizza...”

Suddenly, the lights flick on. My eyes haven’t even adjusted to the sudden
brightness when the room erupts into cheer, and I quickly realize that this entire
spiel about the electric company was completely made up.
“Surprise!” My friends shout in chorus, their faces lit up in glee. A banner hangs
above the bar, reading ‘Good Luck, Abby!’
I’m speechless, my eyes scanning over each one of their excited faces. The
grins that they shoot back at me erase any annoyance over the fake electric
outage or the fact that they clearly closed the restaurant early for this.
“You guys did this for me?”
“Of course!” Anton exclaims, emerging from the kitchen, a chef’s towel slung
over his shoulder and a tray of delectable hors d’oeuvres balancing on his hand.
“It’s your big day tomorrow! How could we not celebrate you?”
I feel tears prickling my eyes, but I blink them back. “Thank you, all of you. This
means the world to me.”
Soon enough, drinks are handed out and music begins to play. Hor d’oeuvres

are served, candles are lit, and the air becomes filled with the scent of good
food and the sound of laughter. I’m sitting at one of the tables, a wine glass in
front of me, laughing at Ethan and Daisy as they argue over who gets the last
Bavarian pretzel bite.
Just then, Anton sets a dish in front of me. My eyes widen as I recognize the
aroma—truffles. “Anton, is this...?”
He grins. “Indeed. Farro mafaldine...”
“With black truffle butter,” I say with a giddy smile. I take a bite, the explosion of
flavors hitting my tongue and practically sending me to heaven. “This is divine,” I
murmur. “You’ve outdone yourself as always, Anton.”
The night carries on for a while longer. All at once, it’s going too slow and too
fast. It’s hard to believe the cook-off is tomorrow; right now, this moment feels
like that’s all that exists. Just us, this restaurant, good food, and good company.
Eventually, I find myself leaning over the bar while Chloe meticulously crafts
three cocktails. The others are playing an animated game of cards at one of the
tables behind us. Leah is perched on a barstool beside me, and we’ve stolen
Chloe’s phone to scroll through her Tinder matches.
“Ooh, he’s cute,” Leah says, holding the phone out to show a picture of a
muscular guy with a football jersey on.
I make a face. “Ew. Football guys.

Leah and I both laugh. When the cocktails are finished, Chloe distributes them.