Contents
Title Page
Dedication
If I Fell
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Carry That Weight
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Something
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Let It Be
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-one
Twenty-two
Twenty-three
Twenty-four
Twenty-five
Twenty-six
Twenty-seven
Twenty-eight
Twenty-nine
Get Back
Thirty
Thirty-one
In My Life
Thirty-two
With Love from Me to …
About the Author
Also by Elizabeth Eulberg
Copyright
I, Penny Lane Bloom, have a boyfriend.
That’s right. The girl who founded The Lonely Hearts Club and swore off boys for the remainder of her high school existence has a boyfriend.
And, no, hell hasn’t frozen over.
Now I have a boyfriend I deserve. He’s kind, smart, and funny. Oh, did I forget to mention he’s hot?
So of course there has to be a but …
But there’s just one teeny, tiny problem.
I am only one person. Believe me, there are a lot of people who think that one Penny Lane Bloom is one too many, but I could use at least three others right now.
I’m the so-called leader of The Lonely Hearts Club and want to spend as much time as possible with my fabulous friends.
But then there’s Ryan. (I mentioned that he’s kind, funny, smart, and hot, right?)
I so don’t want to turn into one of those girls. You know the ones I’m talking about — the girls who dump their friends the second they get boyfriends.
I have vowed: That will never be me.
I can balance it all.
I can make the right decisions. Or at least try to.
I’ve totally got this.
How difficult can it possibly be?
IT WAS AMAZING HOW QUICKLY THINGS could change.
It was only six months ago that I thought I was in love with one of my closest friends since birth.
Five months since I had my heart trounced on by the lying, cheating dirtbag.
Four months since I started The Lonely Hearts Club as its sole member.
Which means four months since everything changed.
I went from someone with a small handful of close friends to a person with nearly thirty girls who would have my back if I ever needed them (which I often did). There were some people who looked up to me because I stood up for my friends and myself. And, of course, that also meant I was openly ridiculed by other people for going against the grain.
It was all worth it.
And now it had been one month since I’d started dating Ryan. Well, technically, twenty-two days since our first date — not like I was counting or anything. (Okay, I kind of was.)
While I knew that no two relationships were ever the same, I hadn’t realized, at first, how different Ryan was from every other guy I’d dated. Although in hindsight, what I had with those guys (more like immature little boys) couldn’t really be called relationships. There were trips to the movies and pizzas eaten, but that was about it. It was more about having someone to walk down the hallways with, someone to eat lunch with, someone to kill time with after school. Insecurity blankets. None of it ever felt real.
Being with Ryan was different. I wanted to be with Ryan because of who he was, not because he was a boyfriend. And Ryan wanted to be with me for me, not because there was a vacancy for the role of Ryan Bauer’s Girlfriend. We liked spending time with each other. It was mutual.
Well, maybe not everything was entirely mutual …
“Come on, Penny, it’s not a big deal.” Ryan reached out his hand impatiently. “All couples do it.”
While I didn’t have as much experience being in a relationship as Ryan, I knew I wasn’t overreacting.
Ryan was wrong.
This was a big step.
One that I wasn’t sure I was ready for.
Maybe other couples did it all the time, but I wasn’t prepared to make such a commitment so soon. We’d only been going out for a few weeks. I didn’t want to rush into anything.
There were certain things you couldn’t take back.
A smile slowly crept over his face, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “Okay, I know how to convince you.”
He stepped a few inches away from me as if he needed lots of space for whatever he was preparing to do. He cleared his throat, gave me one more crooked grin before he started clapping rhythmically. Clap, clap. Clap. Clap, clap. Clap.
Then in front of the entire food court at the mall, Ryan began singing at the top of his lungs, “Oh yeah, I’ll tell you something, I think you’ll understand …” People began to look over to where we were standing, but Ryan was undeterred. He continued to sing even though he had proven on more than one occasion that he couldn’t carry a tune. Sure he was everything a girl could want in a guy — but he was also apparently incapable of being embarrassed.
I, on the other hand, wanted to hide behind the mall directory so no one could see my flaming-red face. I knew there was only one way to get him to stop.
“Fine!” I relented. I grabbed his hand and entwined our fingers. “Happy?”
He was grinning ear to ear. “Yes, very happy. Oh, how I love the Beatles.”
“Yeah, they’d be so proud.” I began to drag him away from the scene of the musical crime. There was no point in telling him that the Beatles hadn’t gotten him his way — it was my fear of causing a scene that made me cave. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to hold Ryan’s hand … but being out in the open as a couple felt too exposed.
Only a few short weeks ago, I’d been the one telling girls not to date, that all guys were lying, cheating scum of the earth. And while some of them were (hello, dirtbag Nate Taylor), Ryan was wonderful. Public embarrassments aside.
The Lonely Hearts Club had caused such a ruckus at McKinley High that I didn’t want it to appear that I was backing down by being with Ryan. The Club was the best thing that had happened to me in high school, and I didn’t want anything to mess that up. And I was well aware of how much a guy could mess things up.
We turned the corner to head up the escalators to the movie theater, when I spotted a few of my fellow Lonely Hearts Club members coming down.
“Pen!” Tracy waved at us, and Jen and Morgan perked up behind her.
I instinctively let go of Ryan’s hand as they made their way over to us.
“Hey.” Tracy hugged me, and her dirty-blond ponytail lightly brushed my cheek. She then turned to Ryan. “Bauer,” she said solemnly.
“How’re you doing, Tracy?” he said cheerfully, clearly wanting to get in good with my best friend. He already had her approval — she was partially responsible for us finally getting together — but with Tracy you wanted to get as far on her good side as possible.
Tracy made a show of looking him up and down. “I’m doing great, obvs. Got my girls, saw a movie, not dealing with the man. What could possibly be better?”
“Ah …” Ryan had no idea what to say next.
I interceded. “What are you guys up to now? Ryan and I were just … um, I saw him —” I stopped myself, not quite believing that I’
d been about to make up a story of why Ryan and I were together. I didn’t know why I felt like I had to watch what I was saying. These girls were practically my family, and I’d known Ryan for years. I should’ve been comfortable having us all be together, but I wasn’t used to being The Girl Who Now Dates, especially with the girls I’d spent nearly every Saturday last semester with, comparing notes on the evil things guys could do.
“I’ll tell you what we’re up to.” Jen patted her stomach. “Food. Lots of food.”
Tracy could sense I was uncomfortable. She tilted her head slightly. “Well, we should get going — there’s a cinnamon bun with my name on it somewhere in the vicinity. Have fun … but not too much fun.”
“Oh, we won’t,” I promised her. Ryan poked my side in protest. “How could anybody have fun without you around?”
“Exactly!” Tracy replied. “See, Pen, you get me. You. Get. Me.” She pounded her first lightly against her chest. The group started walking away, but Tracy stood her ground. “Remember, Bauer.” She held up two fingers to her eyes, then turned them on Ryan. “I’ve got my eyes on you.” She laughed maniacally while linking arms with Jen and Morgan as the three of them walked away.
“You know she’s only teasing,” I reminded Ryan.
He ran his fingers through his dark wavy hair. “Yeah, I know. Usually, guys have to worry about making a good impression on their girlfriends’ parents, but I’ve also got to get the blessing of over twenty girls. No pressure.”
He used the word girlfriend with such ease, as though it was completely clear what we were doing.
It wasn’t quite as clear to me. But at the same time, I liked that he used the word without hesitation, unafraid to commit to me.
I grabbed his hand again as we got on the escalator. “Come on, the Club loves you,” I assured him. “You know how happy they were when we started dating.”
“Yeah, I do,” he replied with a gentle squeeze of my hand. “And for your information, my mom’s thrilled we’re together because it means she has an automatic babysitter on Saturday.”
One of the rules of the Club was that we had to have our meetings on Saturday nights, which wasn’t really a big deal. Ryan and I would go out on Fridays — and sometimes we spent Sundays together if the Club wasn’t up to anything. Neither of us minded.
Tracy’s laugh echoed up the escalators. I looked back and saw them all giggling at something.
Ryan studied my face as I watched my friends go off without me.
“Do you want to go hang out with them?” he asked.
“No, it’s fine.” Although I had to admit I felt a slight sting that I hadn’t been included in their girls’ day out.
He wrapped his arm around me as we stepped off the escalator. “You’re a horrible liar.”
“I am?” I leaned into him. “Hey, Ryan?”
“Yes, Miss Penny Lane?”
I exaggeratedly batted my eyelashes at him. “You’re a really good singer.”
He tickled my stomach, which caused me to respond with a loud shriek. A couple walking in front of us turned around. Before I could protest further, Ryan pulled me in tight and kissed me on the forehead.
Instead of pulling away like I had before, I leaned in even closer. Despite my pangs of jealousy, I knew that I needed to focus more on the here and now. And right there and then, I knew there was nowhere else I wanted to be, and no one else I wanted to spend my Sunday with.
ONE OF THE BENEFITS OF THE educational system doing everything by alphabetical order was that my school locker was only three away from my boyfriend’s.
Ryan greeted me on Monday with a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Hey!” I started pulling out my books for class. “And how was your weekend?”
He closed his locker door. “It was okay.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Just okay? That’s weird — I heard that you were out with your amazing girlfriend.”
“She’s also extremely humble,” he fired back.
Eileen Vodak, a freshman member of the Club, approached me. “Hey, Penny, do you know who the guy with Diane is? I saw them in the office — yum!”
“It’s probably our new foreign exchange student from Australia,” I answered. “I haven’t met him yet. Is he hot?”
“I’m right here!” Ryan protested.
I rolled my eyes dramatically at him before turning back to Eileen.
She motioned in the direction of the hallway where Diane was now walking with a guy who was ridiculously good-looking. Out of respect for Ryan, I tried not to stare.
Even though Diane was no longer a cheerleader, she still walked with an extra bounce in her step and enthusiastically greeted everybody in her path. She was chatting to the guy next to her, and despite the foot difference in height, they could’ve been siblings: both with blond hair (hers long and wavy, his shaggy) and light blue eyes. The big difference was that his skin was about ten shades tanner than Diane’s alabaster complexion.
“Penny!” Diane sang out to me. “I want you to meet Bruce Bryson.” She turned toward him. “Bruce, this is my oldest friend, Penny Lane.”
His expression lit up. “Like the Beatles song?” I nodded; this was always the question when my full name was used. “Bottler!”
“Ah, thanks?”
“Sorry, that means that I think that’s really awesome.” He spoke quickly, trying to explain himself. “I sometimes like the old Aussie slang.”
“That’s cool — or I guess I should say bottler. It’s great to meet you. Welcome to Parkview, Illinois. I can’t imagine you’re thrilled about the weather we have for you.” I noticed he was wearing about three layers of clothing.
“Yeah, I had a cozzie — er, swimsuit on at Christmas.” He smiled to reveal a set of dimples.
I tried very hard not to imagine him in that cozzie.
Diane turned toward Ryan. “And this is Ryan, also one of my closest friends, and Penny’s boyfriend.” It still felt weird to hear Diane call Ryan my boyfriend, since he’d been her boyfriend for four years. She kept insisting that it wasn’t uncomfortable for her, but I couldn’t help thinking it had to be.
“Nice to meet you,” said Ryan, offering a hand to shake. Bruce shook back — universal guy behavior.
We chatted with Bruce for a while and got all the basics. He was from Bondi Beach outside of Sydney, had never been to the US before, was a surfer (which didn’t surprise me in the least), and after a semester with us, he was going to meet his family in New York City and then spend the rest of the summer traveling the US.
Diane gently took his schedule out of his hands and started to look it over. “Okay, you’ve got Spanish with Penny, World History with Penny and Ryan, and Chemistry with me.” She continued to scan through as Tracy approached us.
“Hey, Pen, I forgot to ask you —”
Diane interrupted. “Tracy! I’m so glad you’re here. I wanted you to meet the new exchange student from Australia, Bruce. You’ve got English with him this afternoon.”
Tracy looked over at Bruce. “G’day!” she said in an exaggerated accent.
He laughed. “G’day to you, Tracy!” He scratched his head, causing his messy hair to stick up on one side.
“Welcome to Up Over, I guess.” She gave him a quick smile before turning her attention back to me. “Anyways, Pen, I completely forgot to ask you about our Trig homework.”
It was a little inconceivable. Tracy was standing next to a guy who was not only totally her type but who had her full attention. And she was brushing him off.
The Club had worked its magic on all of its members, especially Tracy. Six months ago, Tracy would’ve put Bruce at the top of her annual list of potential boyfriends, only to end up crossing him off for one petty reason or another. That list had brought her nothing but heartbreak, and now her focus was on her friends and being happy without a guy. Which was great, but still …
I wasn’t the only one who noticed Bruce staring at Tracy as she looked over my n
otes. Diane raised her eyebrows at me, and I stifled a laugh. Tracy would’ve killed us if she’d known what we were thinking.
Once Diane realized that Tracy’s attention wasn’t going to come back to her guest, she moved on. “Well, I’d better get you to your first class,” she told Bruce.
Bruce nodded. “It was great meeting you all.”
“You, too — see you en Español,” I replied.
Bruce leaned closer to Tracy, who was now sitting on the floor, quickly copying my notes before class. “See you around, Tracy?”
“Yep.” She didn’t even look up. “See you later, shrimp on the barbie, dingo ate my baby, and all that.”
Even though Tracy was just being Tracy, Bruce took her jabs at Australian stereotypes as flirting. He walked off with a satisfied smile, pausing a few times to look back at her.
“Okay.” Tracy closed her notebook and got up. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
I said good-bye to Ryan, and Tracy and I started heading to Trig. “So what do you think of Bruce?” I asked.
“He seems nice enough.” She shrugged. “Do you think we’re going to have a pop quiz? It’s only the second week back from winter break — that’d be too cruel, right?”
Tracy’s quick dismissal of a cute boy was just more proof of how much had changed in so little time.
There was never an agenda for The Lonely Hearts Club as we sat together every day at lunch. It was solely time for us to catch up. Sometimes we helped someone out if she had a problem (many times in the past, that had been me) or planned an upcoming meeting. As the group of over twenty-five members started to file into the cafeteria for lunch, we moved tables over to make room for everybody: freshmen, sophomores, juniors, and seniors.
We were all into our lunch and gossip of the day when an unexpected visitor descended on our table.
“G’day, ladies,” Bruce greeted us. “Would you mind if I joined you?” While Bruce sounded relaxed, his hands were tightly clenching his lunch tray. I couldn’t really blame him for his nerves. We were a little intimidating as a group.
Our table had been buzzing with voices and energy a second before, but now had gone eerily silent. We’d never had anybody from the outside join our table. Even the boyfriends didn’t eat lunch with us. It wasn’t an official rule, just how it was.
We Can Work It Out Page 1