We Can Work It Out

by Elizabeth Eulberg

  I’d been paying attention to Missy that week, and she hadn’t been anywhere near Todd or his crowd. She sat with her friends and looked really depressed. She had on only about half the makeup she usually applied, and her hair was mostly up in a ponytail. You could even see her roots. It gave me the slightest sense that she wasn’t trying to hide her real self anymore.

  “Anyways,” Michelle continued, “I understand that you’re hesitant to have her join the Club and all, and even I’ve had issues with her in the past. But Missy’s bark is way worse than her bite. Her parents got divorced last year and she’s sort of used that to pretend to be this tough, confident person. I’m not asking you to invite her to join us, but all I’m saying is that she wants to prove herself to you and the Club. So maybe we could give her a task for the dance-a-thon? Nothing major, but something to see how she handles it. I think it would mean a lot to her.”

  “I’ll think about it,” I replied, still not fully able to conceive of Missy as Club material. Although Michelle had a point — maybe we could give her some task. We certainly needed the help. But it had to be something that wasn’t too important, in case she was really trying to sabotage us.

  “Thanks.” Michelle started to walk away, then paused. “For the record, she didn’t ask me to speak to you. I did it because I felt it was the right thing to do.”

  I nodded. I wanted to do the right thing as well. Problem was, that was sometimes easier said than done.

  It wasn’t difficult for someone who openly detested me to be civil to me in the privacy of my own home, but I decided to test Missy’s sincerity in the most public place of all: the McKinley High School cafeteria.

  “Hey, Missy!” I said enthusiastically as she walked in with her two clones behind her.

  “Hi, Penny,” she said in a quiet voice. I hadn’t even realized she was capable of a quiet voice.

  “Can I talk to you?” I asked. Her shadows gave me the familiar look of disgust that Missy used to share with them.

  But this time Missy didn’t share it back.

  “Of course,” she said, halfheartedly turning to her friends to say she’d be right back.

  They both stared at her with their mouths open, as if they didn’t know how to find their lunch table without her.

  We walked over to the side of the cafeteria, several inquisitive eyes on us, including Ryan’s. He knew as much as anybody how I felt about Missy.

  “Look,” Missy started, “I get it. I do. I understand how you can question my motives. To be honest, if you’d come to me a month ago asking for something, I would’ve treated you the same way. Or worse.”

  At least she was being honest.

  She gave me a shy, quickly fading smile. Her attention was behind me for a second. Then she glanced down at the floor and began to nervously shake her leg.

  I turned around to see Todd approaching us, a victorious smirk on his face. I had a feeling I was going to get busted. I knew I shouldn’t have believed anything Missy said. Now Todd was going to reveal his prank on me and enjoy every second of it.

  Todd glared at Missy but put his arm around me. “I see you’re picking up my trash again, Bloom. Maybe you should rename that club of yours The Todd Chesney Has Broken My Loser Heart Club.”

  Missy burst into tears and ran out of the cafeteria. Her two friends got up from their table and chased after her.

  Todd laughed — until I jerked my elbow sharply into the side of his stomach. He bent over, clutching his side. “What the hell? That’s assault.”

  “No,” I pushed him away from me, “that’s called just desserts.”

  THE LONELY HEARTS CLUB WAS NOT a dictatorship. So I put the quandary about Missy to a vote.

  “We’ll decide this Saturday,” I said on Wednesday, two days after the cafeteria run-in. Missy had been absent from lunch the day before, and something about that had unsettled me. So we presented the facts to the Club. They’d have a couple days to think it over and we’d make a decision together. As a team.

  We then shifted our focus back to the important matter of the dance-a-thon. The elementary school had agreed to let us have the event there, so we were finally able to move forward on getting sponsors and, more important, people to the event.

  It all was coming together. Even people outside the Club were interested in getting involved.

  “Penny!” Bruce caught up to me on the way to Spanish. “Do you need help with your party?”

  “That’d be great. Thanks, Bruce.” He’d been nothing but nice and helpful since he’d arrived. I really wished I could do something for him, but there was no way I was going to be able to change Tracy’s mind. I was suddenly overcome with a coughing fit.

  “Are you okay?” Bruce asked.

  I could only nod as I continued to cough. I’d been feeling run-down the last few days, but I thought that, as long as I kept busy, it would go away.

  “Here.” Bruce grabbed my bag. “Whoa,” he commented as he felt the weight. “What do you have in here? Bricks?”

  I’d been putting all of my afternoon books into my bag so I would only have to go to my locker twice a day. The less Ryan had to see me, the better. For us both.

  “Sorry about that,” I finally said once my coughing stopped. “Anyways, we’d really appreciate the help. All of us.”

  “Don’t worry.” His dimples deepened. “I won’t bother you about Tracy anymore. A guy can take a hint.”

  “I personally think she’s nuts for not giving you a try. But the Club has meant so much to her, I think she’s worried about doing anything to ruin it.”

  Or maybe I was talking about myself.

  Bruce’s usual cheerful demeanor turned reflective. “Do you know why I wanted to help out with the Club so much? It wasn’t solely because of Tracy, although that played a huge part.”

  I shook my head.

  “I had my heart broken before I left to come here. I was a wreck when I arrived, and at first I thought having distance between her and me would help. But it wasn’t that simple. When you told me about the Club, that’s what I thought I needed. To be reminded about what’s important. But it’s hard to do when your heart’s torn apart and you’re thousands of miles away from home.”

  I could only understand the heart part. There was no way I’d be able to handle what was happening to me if I was on a different continent, away from my friends and family.

  “I’m so sorry, Bruce.” I looked around the hallway to make sure we didn’t have any eavesdroppers close by. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  At first I didn’t think he was going to say anything; he appeared to be almost lost in a memory. “There was this girl, Zara.” He winced slightly when he said her name. “I had a crush on her for years but never thought anything would happen. I submitted the application to study abroad, and since I have the worst luck ever, I found out I got accepted the day after our first date. At first she was supportive about me leaving. We were going to make it work. It was only five months. And then …

  “I thought everything was great with us. I almost didn’t want to come here, but my parents thought I was foolish for even thinking about turning down the opportunity. Then she broke up with me at my going-away party by walking in on the arm of another guy.”

  He looked exhausted. “I know the Club has some pretty negative opinions of guys, but the hurt can go both ways. It’s not a guy or girl issue — it’s a people issue.”

  I’d never really thought about a relationship from a guy’s perspective. It was always from the point of view that I had experienced: the girl who lost her best friend because of a guy, the girl who got cheated on, the girl who was afraid to trust again.

  It was nearly revolutionary to think that a guy could get as hurt as a girl.

  I couldn’t handle thinking about what I had done to Ryan. He’d made it very clear how much I’d hurt him, but the only thing I could do was rationalize that it was for the best.

  “So I’m slowly getting by. Every day
it’s easier.”

  I nodded in agreement with Bruce, although it hadn’t gotten easier for me.

  “And honestly, my crush on Tracy has helped. I thought I’d never be able to get over Zara — and then I walked into school that first day and saw Tracy. She’s unlike anybody I’ve ever met. A true original.”

  Yes, she was. I hated that the first guy to understand her had to be from thousands of miles away and had come at a time when being with her wasn’t a possibility.

  “So, in a way, your Club has reminded me that I’ll be okay. So I guess I should thank you for that.” Bruce paused before heading into class. “You know, you should really think about letting guys in.”

  I laughed. True, guys could also get broken hearts, but I wasn’t about to open that can of worms. Although there was no reason to ever worry about something like that happening. New members have one major obstacle they have to face. No guy in his right mind would ever challenge it.

  Tracy.

  Tyson was a nervous wreck.

  “Every day, I want to vomit when I check the mail,” he said the following day as we were getting ready for biology to start. He was waiting to hear back from his top college, Juilliard.

  “They’d be insane to not take you.” I didn’t say that only because he was a friend — he was truly a gifted musician. I knew that in a few years I’d be able to say that I knew him when.

  “From your lips …” He drew on his notebook, the black ballpoint pen digging into the paper with more aggression than he reserved for his lyrics.

  I hit his arm lightly. “You know you nailed your audition —”

  “Penny Lane Bloom,” our teacher interrupted. I looked at the clock, knowing that I hadn’t missed the bell. “Please report to the principal’s office. He’d like to have a word with you.”

  I gathered my books and kept thinking about what I could possibly have done to warrant a word with Principal Braddock. Once I arrived, I felt immediate relief that my parents hadn’t been dragged in again. But then, they wouldn’t be here to have my back.

  “Miss Bloom,” Braddock called through his opened door.

  I walked in cautiously, assuming the worst. His eyes were on his computer, but he gestured at the chair in front of his desk. I obediently sat down.

  “Hi, Principal Braddock,” I tried to say with an ounce of respect. It was extremely difficult.

  “Let me get right to the point.” He finally stopped typing and looked at me. “I’ve heard about your dance-a-thon.”

  Oh, crap.

  Of course he had to stick his nose into it. He was going to find a way to make the elementary school take back their offer.

  “You’re having it at the elementary school?” He rubbed his bald head. It was reflecting the fluorescent lights from the ceiling.

  I nodded weakly, dreading where this was going.

  “And part of the proceeds will be going to a scholarship for a senior member of your club and the other to PARC?”

  “Half and half,” I replied.

  He leaned back in his chair and placed his hands on his stomach. “You know that I used to go to PARC when I was little. That’s where I learned how to play football.” He looked over at the wall in his office that was a shrine to Braddock’s former athletic glory at McKinley and at college.

  I stayed silent. I figured it was the best way for me to avoid trouble.

  He looked back at me, like he was weighing his options in his mind. “I’m still not one hundred percent on board with this little club of yours. But I do appreciate your support of PARC and the Club’s understanding of the importance of continuing education through your scholarship.”

  My silence was now due to utter disbelief.

  “So …” He continued to study me. “I figured that if you wanted, we could let you have your event here.”

  “What?” I blurted out, completely flabbergasted that he would offer the school to us.

  His demeanor didn’t crack. “You’re a student at this school. Part of the profits for the event would go to a student at this school. So it would only make sense that your event take place at this school.”

  I picked my jaw off the floor. “That would be great. I … I really …”

  He waved his hand dismissively at me. “Yes, I’m sure. I’ll have Mrs. Hutnick give you the requirements. They’re from the Board of Education, so they’ll be very similar to the elementary school’s.”

  I nodded slowly, the realization that we would get to have our event here sinking in. And then I said something I never thought I would ever say.

  “Thank you so much, Principal Braddock.”

  The corners of his mouth turned up. “My pleasure.”

  I got up to leave, but thought better of it. He had no problem pulling the karaoke event from the school only days before. I remembered something my mom once said about trust: While someone’s word is great, there is one thing that’s even better.

  “Principal Braddock?”

  He looked up from his computer. “Yes?”

  “I hope you won’t find this rude, but do you think I could get all of this in writing?”

  I’D BEEN SO FRAZZLED WITH THE dance-a-thon planning, it was only a matter of time before something slipped through the cracks.

  I quickly glanced around the corner to my locker the next afternoon to find that the coast was clear between classes. I walked as fast as I could without drawing too much attention to myself. I was about to extract my forgotten biology notebook in record time, when a sneezing fit took over my body.

  My overweight bag fell to the ground as my body began to convulse with every sneeze.

  “Are you okay?” a voice asked next to me.

  “I’m fine.” I began to wave off the person when I realized it was Ryan. I turned my back to blow my nose in semiprivacy while I cursed my plugged ears for the fact I hadn’t been able to recognize his voice. “Sorry, allergies. Or a cold. I don’t know.” I popped another lozenge in my mouth.

  “You don’t look well,” Ryan said with a softer voice. He was clearly concerned, which made me feel much, much worse. He shook his head. “I know it’s none of my business, but you’ve got way too much on your plate. You can’t do it all.” He grimaced, as he was more than aware of my inability to juggle too many things at once.

  “I’ve got it under control,” I assured him, although I didn’t need to. Ryan didn’t have to worry about me. Yes, I’d been under the weather and I’d been having trouble sleeping, but that was solely because I had so many details of the dance-a-thon to stress over.

  At least that was what I’d been telling myself.

  “Okay, fine.” He opened up his locker. “Sorry I said anything.”

  I hauled my bag to my shoulder and felt the weight of four classes’ worth of books and notebooks weighing me down. It wasn’t a weight that I liked to carry, but I had no choice.

  I could handle a lot of things — but more interactions like that was not one of them.

  In addition to avoiding my locker like the plague, I spent the next three weeks focusing every waking minute on the dance-a-thon. I quickly learned that I functioned much better when I was busy.

  Now that we’d secured the high school, we quickly moved forward on getting sponsors, raffle prizes, and, of course, people to participate. We already had over fifty teams registered — from high school students to senior citizens. And while the dance-a-thon’s main goal was to help get scholarship money for a senior Club member, it also had made the community and surrounding areas more aware of The Lonely Hearts Club’s existence. Our website traffic had gone up significantly and we added more clubs closer to Parkview.

  “Okay,” I said, calling our lunchtime meeting to order. “Where are we with all the raffle prizes?”

  Missy spoke up first. “I’ve gotten commitments for baskets from both the spa and hair salon downtown as well as a gourmet food basket.” She reveled in the positive response from the group.

  We’d decided to
give her a chance. She technically wasn’t an official member yet, but she was sitting with us at lunch and making an effort. Missy had approached every task we’d given her with steadfast determination. She was even willing to go to the businesses we didn’t have any connections with to ask for a donation. Michelle went with her to make sure the Club was being represented properly, but Missy took the lead.

  While she and I were never going to be best friends, I’d gotten to know her a little better. Behind her tough facade, she was a sensitive person with a biting sense of humor. She and I had even exchanged a few pleasant greetings in the hallway between classes.

  Crazier things have happened.

  “Great! Thanks, Missy.” I started to sneeze. After almost a month of coughing and sneezing, I finally admitted that I had a nasty cold. Mom had given me really strong cold medicine, but nothing was helping. I felt like crap, but didn’t really have any time to focus on that since there was too much to do. “So I think on Saturday we’ll get the music ready and the posters done.” I looked down at the list of things we had to do.

  “Hey, Penny.” Diane looked around at the group. “I know we’ve been so busy with the dance-a-thon and all, but we can’t forget the other dance that’s happening. So a few of us were planning on going to the mall on Saturday to look for Prom dresses, if anybody’s interested in joining us.”

  The dance-a-thon was one week away, Prom was two. I figured I would run to the mall the day after the dance-a-thon for my dress. Or I’d wear what I’d worn to Homecoming. It really wasn’t a priority.

  “That sounds like fun.” I started to cough uncontrollably as the unfortunate people sitting next to me scooted away.

  “Maybe you should go home?” Tracy looked at me with concern.

  “I’m okay.” I picked at my turkey sandwich. I didn’t have much of an appetite but tried to take a couple bites. It tasted dry, even when I chased the bite with water. I pushed my food away. “Diane, do you want to take over?” I asked as I searched my bag for my afternoon cold pills.