From Me to You, Page 2

  “If you say so,” Dad called back before he winked at Lucy. “Let me tell you, being in a relationship is all about compromise.”

  Rita piped up. “Does Mom even know what compromise means?”

  “Now, girls, you may not believe this, but your mother can be a reasonable woman.”

  “I’m sorry; you’re going to have to provide us with at least one example in order for me to believe any of that,” Rita said dryly.

  “Okay, okay …” He held his hands up. “Your mother used to insist that ‘Ding Dong, Ding Dong’ be on our Christmas playlist, but I convinced her otherwise.”

  “So she can play it all day New Year’s Eve and Day,” Lucy reminded him.

  “Ding Dong, Ding Dong” was a George Harrison song about ringing in the New Year. If only Ringo had also done a New Year’s album.

  “Hey, compromise means each person has to give something up.” Dad looked satisfied with himself as he took Lucy’s luggage out to the car.

  Rita and I said our good-byes to Lucy before she went to the airport with Mom and Dad. After nearly a week of a full house, it was now eerily quiet.

  “So.” Rita broke the silence. “What are you going to have to give up now that you have a boyfriend?”

  “RITA!” I smacked her arm. “We’ve been dating for a little over a week. Relax!”

  “Wow.” Rita shook her head. “I wasn’t going there, since I’m clearly the most innocent of the sisters.” Please. “I meant with everything going on with the Club, school, work, something’s gotta give if you’re going to have a serious boyfriend.”

  “Again. A week,” I reminded her with a roll of the eyes. I took our dishes to the kitchen and started to clean up the pie crumbs.

  But I couldn’t help but think about what Rita had said. Everything was great with Ryan now. I didn’t have to worry about school or homework. I had plenty of time. But being the leader of The Lonely Hearts Club was a huge commitment. Not that I was complaining, believe me. It was the best thing to ever happen to me. But that question kept nagging me.

  What was going to happen when school started back up?

  Usually on New Year’s Eve, I’m excited about a new year with new beginnings. But I was genuinely sad for this year to end. It wasn’t that I enjoyed the disaster that was this summer with Nate, obviously. But if it wasn’t for Jackass, The Lonely Hearts Club wouldn’t have happened. I wouldn’t have had this amazing group of friends.

  So I guess I’m thankful that there’ll always be jerky boys to remind us that we’re worth more.

  The Club’s party was in full swing in our basement. My parents were upstairs with their friends, and we’d been left alone. We were all dancing away, chatting, stuffing our faces — you know, the usual. While this was something most people only did at big parties, like for New Year’s Eve, it was pretty much a typical Saturday night for The Lonely Hearts Club.

  Sometimes I couldn’t believe that this was my life now.

  “So?” Diane came up to me with a huge smile on her face. “How are things? How was dinner tonight?”

  I froze. I was well aware that Diane knew Ryan and I were dating. The whole school was aware of that fact. But this was Diane, Ryan’s ex. Sure, she’d encouraged us to get together, and since Ryan was one of her closest friends, I was pretty sure he’d already told her how our dinner went, but still … it was weird.

  “Come on, Penny!” Diane laughed. “It’s a simple question; I’m not giving you the third degree.”

  “First” — Tracy approached us wearing a New Year’s tiara — “I need to wear a crown every day. I think it suits me. Second, giving Pen the third degree would be a fab way to spend the evening. So how did it go?” She started wiggling her eyebrows playfully. “Was Ryan the perfect gentleman? Although how much fun would that be?”

  I glared at Tracy. She knew that I felt uncomfortable talking to Diane about Ryan. “It was fine. We just got pizza, nothing big.” Yes, we did get pizza … and then made out in his car for about thirty minutes before he dropped me off to get ready for the party. So it was better than fine, but couldn’t a girl have a little privacy? Was nothing sacred?

  “Hey, everybody!” Tracy called out. “We’re getting the Ryan scoop from Penny!”

  Apparently not.

  The room went quiet and someone turned down the music. There was a chorus of “ooohs!” Tracy was so dead.

  “Hey!” Morgan called out from the corner. “You guys made me spill when I started dating Tyson, so it’s only fair.”

  Um, I was the one who called off the hounds when they were circling Morgan after her first date with Tyson.

  “We want details!” Kara called out.

  Et tu, Kara?

  Soon the entire room was throwing out questions and suggestive comments. I knew they meant well. Everybody in the Club was supportive of the fact that I was dating Ryan. There had even been a unanimous vote to rewrite our rules to allow dating, which had been forbidden. However, the rule wasn’t technically changed for me. It was mostly changed because of Morgan and Tyson. Then Michelle got back together with Michael, Tracy’s younger brother. Order was restored in the world. And, yes, that meant that I did get to go out with Ryan.

  “Okay! Okay!” I finally gave up. Maybe I’d just give them something. “We’ve been having a nice time.”

  “Boring!” Tracy threw a napkin at me. “Of course you had a nice time; tell us about the hot kissing!”

  I wasn’t exactly sure what the look on my face was, but Tracy recoiled slightly. She was not one to ever back away from anything, so it must’ve been epic.

  “Ah …” I turned bright red thinking of all the hot kissing, and fumbled for something to say. Instead I went with deflection. “So Michelle, how are things going with Michael?”

  “NO!” Tracy howled and put her hands up to her face like she was in a horror movie. “I don’t want to hear any details about my baby brother. That’s just wrong. So wrong.”

  Michelle wisely hid behind Eileen while all eyes remained on me.

  I looked out at this new family of friends that I’d been fortunate enough to acquire. I used to be able to tell them everything. They knew all about what I’d gone through with Nate. They cheered me on after I got to tell him off at Thanksgiving. They were better than family in a way, because this was a family that I got to choose.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t want to shout from the rooftops about how well things were going with Ryan, but something held me back. Maybe it was the fact that just a few weeks ago, I was the one declaring that all boys were evil and not worth our time. That we were better without guys. But now I was the one with a boyfriend.

  Hypocrite much?

  Plus, couldn’t I have this one thing for myself?

  “Guys!” Diane came to my rescue. “There’s going to be plenty of opportunities to hear about Penny and Ryan, but we only have twenty minutes until the New Year. Let’s get back to dancing!”

  Thankfully, the music started up again and everybody’s attention went back to the music, the food, and (hopefully) gossip not related to me.

  “Thanks.” I gave Diane a grateful smile.

  “Listen, Penny” — Diane flipped her long blond hair — “I know you feel weird talking about it, so there’s no pressure. There are also no issues and no competition. You know that, right?”

  Of course I knew there was no competition between Diane and me. She was this petite, gorgeous, model-like creature who always had the perfect outfit on. She was also really smart and in practically every extracurricular activity the school offered. So there was no way I could compete on that level. She knew that. I knew that. Everybody knew that.

  But Ryan liked me regardless of the fact that I wasn’t perfect like Diane. I had a crazy family; my fashion sense consisted mostly of jeans, T-shirts, and sneakers; I’d always have four guys in my life (John, Paul, George, and Ringo); and I had this Club that would always be a priority. But none of that seemed to matter to Ryan.
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br />   So no, there wasn’t a competition.

  “Yes, I do,” I assured her. “Now let’s dance!”

  Tracy joined Diane and me as we swayed along to the Fab Four.

  “It’s time!” I called out as I turned the music off and the television on so we could properly ring in the New Year.

  The Club all grabbed apple cider, noisemakers, and horns and started counting down.

  “Pen,” Tracy whispered in my ear, “how right was I about this year being amazing? We just knew it, didn’t we?”

  “We did!” I put my arm around my best friend as we had ten seconds remaining of the old before we’d be ushering in a new era of The Lonely Hearts Club. “And I’m predicting that next year will be even better.”

  “The best.” Tracy gave me a huge hug as the basement filled with excitement, anticipation, and then a chorus of “FIVE, FOUR, THREE, TWO, ONE … HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

  All the Club members went around to toast and embrace one another. There was so much happiness, I wished I could’ve bottled it up. And while I wanted to savor my time with the Club, I knew that there were even more amazing moments to come.

  We had a whole new year to make memories and grow together.

  While the year was only a couple of seconds old, I hoped it was ready for all that The Lonely Hearts Club had in store.

  Keep reading for a special sneak peek of

  We Can Work It Out, the return to the characters of The Lonely Hearts Club from romantic comedy superstar Elizabeth Eulberg!

  WHILE MY BIRTHDAY DIDN’T FALL ON Christmas or New Year’s Eve, I could sympathize with people who had to share their birthday with a big holiday. Because in the Bloom household, February 7 wasn’t only my birthday, it was the anniversary of the Beatles’ arrival in the United States.

  For years my sisters and I believed my mom refused to push so I’d be born on my parents’ favorite day of the year. That might sound crazy, but my Beatles-obsessed parents had named their three daughters after Beatles songs: Lucy (in the Sky with Diamonds), (Lovely) Rita, and Penny Lane. (Thank goodness they stopped at three, or I might’ve had a poor little sister named Eleanor Rigby.)

  While my parents’ love of the Beatles had passed down to me, my sisters were more resistant.

  “You’re being so stubborn, Lucy!” Mom said into the phone, gesturing wildly to my father, who was on the other line.

  “Now, Luce,” Dad began, “promise us that you’ll think about it.”

  Mom glared at him. I kept my head down while I finished washing the dishes from dinner.

  Lucy’s upcoming wedding was making everyone tense. This particular argument wasn’t about the usual wedding-related things like seating charts, food, or flowers. No, this fight was over my parents’ insistence that a Beatles song be used for Lucy and Pete’s first dance. The current compromise was that Dad and Lucy would have their father-daughter dance to “In My Life,” which would’ve satisfied most people.

  My parents, however, were not most people.

  “Now you’re just being ridiculous,” Mom groaned. “Remember who’s paying for this wedding!”

  I sat down at the kitchen table and flipped through the RSVPs, recognizing a mixture of family and friends. The names that didn’t register were all from the East Coast, where Lucy’s future husband was from.

  “Well, I guess we’ll talk about this when you’re home next weekend,” Mom said with a sigh.

  I did my best to contain the amused expression surfacing on my face. At some point, my parents had to realize that while their wedding had included only Beatles music, posters, and groomsmen’s outfits similar to the ones the Beatles wore during their famous Ed Sullivan Show debut performance, most other people would show some restraint.

  Mom collapsed on the chair next to me after hanging up the phone. “Now, Penny Lane, you’d better not give us any fuss over your birthday. You know the drill.”

  I quickly agreed because I did know better. The traditional “Happy Birthday” song has never been sung in the Bloom house. I doubt my parents even know the words. No, the only Dave-and-Becky-Bloom-endorsed song for birthday celebrations was the Beatles’ “Birthday.” And as much as it annoyed Rita and Lucy, I absolutely loved it.

  “So what’s the plan, kiddo?” Dad asked as he sat down across from me, a stack of new RSVPs in hand.

  “Well, my birthday’s on a Saturday this year, so the Club will be over. I figured we could do a cake. I don’t really need anything special.” Which was true — all I needed was the Club.

  “What about Ryan?”

  “He’s taking me out to lunch.” I’d debated asking him along that night, but I didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable. Plus, I wasn’t going to bend the rules for my benefit, even if it was my birthday.

  “That sounds like a fun day,” Dad answered. “Ryan’s coming to the wedding, right?”

  I looked up at my dad. I hadn’t even thought about that. Ryan and I had only been dating for four weeks, and the wedding wasn’t for another six.

  Before I had a chance to respond, my dad lit up and said, “Ah, here’s the Taylors’ RSVP.”

  I instantly felt sick to my stomach. I had forgotten that the Taylors were invited, and I was pretty sure my parents weren’t going to exclude Nate, the jackass son who’d stomped on my heart.

  Mom looked down at the guest list. “They’re coming, right?”

  I realized I was holding my breath.

  Dad looked down at their response. “Yep, two chicken and one beef.”

  Our dads were best friends, so I had known our paths would eventually have to cross. But I didn’t want it to be at such an important family event.

  Actually, I didn’t want it to be under any circumstance.

  “Ah, Dad?” I finally found my voice. “Ryan is coming to the wedding.”

  “That’s great, Penny Lane!” He winked at me as Mom added his name to the list.

  Yes, it was great.

  I knew I could handle myself around Nate — I had proven that at Thanksgiving, when I’d finally told him off.

  But it was always good to have backup.

  * * *

  The second I mentioned the wedding to Ryan, I realized how silly I’d been for not inviting him sooner.

  He was still excited when we arrived for our double date Friday night with Morgan and Tyson.

  “It’s just so public,” he teased. “Does this mean you’re going to allow me to dance with you? In front of people?” He opened his jaw in playful exasperation.

  “You are aware that I can take back that invitation at any time,” I reminded him.

  “You wouldn’t!”

  “Try me,” I dared.

  “Okay, I won’t press my luck.”

  “Smart move.”

  “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to take it easy on you tonight. Prepare to be schooled.” Ryan then began doing what I could only assume was the running man, with arms and legs flailing everywhere.

  It was dorky, yet totally endearing.

  “Yes, well, I guess you showed me.” I held up my hands and waved them exaggeratedly. “I’m so nervous.”

  Ryan stopped dancing. “Just remember this next week.”

  “What’s next week?”

  He looked at me like I should have known what he was talking about. “We’re going to that indoor mini-golf place with my sister. On Wednesday.”

  “Oh, no.” I felt horrible. “I completely forgot. I agreed to try out that new Chinese restaurant with a few of the girls.”

  “Okay,” he said with measured understanding. “How about next weekend sometime? Clearly not on Saturday night.”

  “Sure.” Then I realized what next weekend was. “Wait, Lucy’s home next weekend. We have family stuff, and then she’s meeting the Club.”

  “Oh,” he said flatly, no longer hiding his disappointment. “Well, I’d really like to meet her, too, if there’s time.”

  I started going over next weekend’s schedule in my hea
d, but there was something wedding- or Club-related pretty much every second.

  “What about the following week?” I offered, even though I knew how lame that sounded.

  “Since I’m dating such a popular girl, I’ll take what I can get.” He laced his fingers through mine, and we walked into the arcade, where Morgan and Tyson were already playing skee-ball.

  While some people assumed that The Lonely Hearts Club allowed dating solely so I could go out with Ryan, it was actually because of Morgan and Tyson. While I was in my “all guys are evil” phase, Tyson was assigned to be my biology lab partner. At first I let his long black hair and rocker attire paint him in my mind as a shallow guy who only cared about his band. But the more I got to know him, the more I realized what a sensitive and brilliant musician he was. When he let me know that he had a crush on Morgan (who’d had a crush on him since freshman year), I realized it wasn’t fair to let my bad experiences cost Morgan and Tyson their happiness.

  Watching them laughing and playfully trash-talking, I knew the change to the Club had been for the best. It also didn’t hurt that I got to go out with Ryan.

  Morgan had one last skee-ball remaining. She stretched out her arms, put her long black hair up in a ponytail, and grabbed the ball. “And now, Two-Time Skee-Ball Champion Morgan Stephens needs only twenty points to win the game. Can she do it?”

  She paused dramatically before rolling the ball up the ramp, where it landed perfectly in the fifty-point hole. Tyson groaned, while Morgan took the tickets from both of their machines. “I believe these belong to me.”

  Tyson’s disappointment quickly faded as he pulled Morgan in close for a kiss.

  “Good job!” I gave Morgan a high five. “These boys need to be shown how it’s done.”

  “Are you willing to take on the champion?” she dared me.

  “Please.” I took out my quarters and slid them into the machine. “Challenge accepted.”

  Morgan and I played three rounds, and she kept her winning streak intact, her ticket pile growing by the minute.