Текст книги "The Lonely Hearts Club"

Автор книги: Elizabeth Eulberg

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The Lonely Hearts Club

Elizabeth Eulberg

For my beloved EEC.

Especially Dav Pilkey, who was the first person to encourage me to write.

This is all his fault.

I, Penny Lane Bloom, do solemnly swear to never date another boy for as long as I shall live.

All right, maybe I'll reconsider it in ten years or so when I'm no longer living in Parkview, Illinois, or attending McKinley High School, but for now I'm done with guys. They're all lying, cheating scum of the earth.

Yes, every last one of them. Pure evil.

Sure, there are some that seem nice, but the second they get what they want, they'll dump you and move on to their next target.

So I'm done.

No more dating.

The end.

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Yesterday

love was such an easy game to play ..."

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Chapter one

WHEN I WAS FIVE YEARS OLD, I walked down the aisle with the man of my dreams.

Okay, make that boy. He was five, too.

I'd known Nate Taylor pretty much since birth. Our fathers had been friends since childhood, and every year, Nate and his parents would spend the summer with my family. My baby book was filled with pictures of me and Nate – taking a bath together as infants, playing in our tree house in the backyard, and – my favorite – dressed up as a miniature bride and groom at my cousins wedding. (Soon after, the picture of me in my white dress and Nate in his tux was hung proudly on my bedroom wall.)

Everybody always joked that one day we'd get married for real. Nate and I used to think so, too. We thought we were the perfect couple. I didn't mind playing war with him, and he would even play with my dolls (although he'd never admit it). He'd push me on the swings and I'd help him organize his action figures. He thought I looked pretty with my hair in pigtails, and I thought he was cute (even during his brief pudgy stage). I liked his parents, and he liked my parents. I wanted an English Bulldog, and he wanted a Pug. Macaroni and cheese was my favorite food, and it was his favorite food, too.

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What else could a girl want in a guy?

To me, looking forward to summer was the same thing as looking forward to Nate. As a result, so many of my memories revolved around him:

–My first kiss (in my tree house when we were eight; I punched, him, then cried afterward).

–The first time I held hands (when we got lost during a third-grade scavenger hunt).

–My first Valentine's Day card (a red construction-paper heart with my name on it).

–My first camping trip (Nate and I put up a tent in our backyard when we were ten and spent the entire night out there by ourselves).

–The first time I purposely deceived my parents (I took the train into Chicago by myself to see Nate last year; I told my parents I was spending the night at my best friend Tracy's).

–Our first true kiss (fourteen; this time I didn't put up a fight).

After that kiss, my anticipation for summer intensified. We weren't playing make-believe anymore. The feelings were real, they were different. The heart involved wasn't made from construction paper – it was living, beating . . . real.

When I thought about summer, I thought about Nate. When I thought about love, I thought about Nate. When I thought about anything, I thought about Nate.

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I knew that this summer it would happen. Nate and I would be together.

The last month of school was unbearable. I starred a countdown clock to his arrival. I took shopping trips with my friends to buy "Nate clothes." I even bought my first bikini with him in mind. I set my work schedule at my dad's dental office around Nates work schedule at the country club. I didn't want anything to get in our way.

And then it happened.

He was here.

He was taller.

He was older.

He was no longer cute – he was sexy.

And he was mine.

He wanted me. And I wanted him. It seemed that simple.

Soon enough, we were together. Finally, really together.

Only I didn't get the fairy tale I was hoping for.

Because guys change.

They lie.

They stomp on your heart.

I found out the hard way that fairy tales and true love don't exist.

The perfect guy doesn't exist.

And that adorable picture of the innocent miniature bride with the guy who would one day break her heart?

That didn't exist anymore, either,

I watched it burn in flames.

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chapter Two

It all happened so fast.

It started like every other summer. The Taylors arrived, and the house was bustling with people. Nate and I flirted constantly ... it was the routine we'd been going through for the past few years. Only this time, there were things underneath the flirtation. Like desire. Like the future. Like sex.

Everything I dreamed of started to happen. Nate was perfect to me. The guy I held everyone else up to. The one who always made my heart beat fast and my stomach flip.

This was the summer that my feelings were finally returned.

It started with a couple of dates, nothing big. Just movies, dinner, etc.

Our parents had no idea what was going on, Nate didn't want to tell them, and I went along. He said they'd probably overreact, and I didn't disagree. Even though I knew our parents always wanted us to eventually end up together, I wasn't sure they would've been prepared for us to be together yet. Especially when he was sleeping downstairs in our soundproofed basement.

It was all going so well. Nate said all of the things I wanted to hear. How I was beautiful and perfect, how I made him lose his breath when we kissed.

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I was in heaven.

We kissed. Then we kissed and kissed. Then we kissed some more. But soon that wasn't enough. Soon hands started wandering, clothes started coming off. This was everything that I'd been waiting for... but it seemed fast. Too fast. No matter what I gave him, he wanted more. And I was fighting it. Everything we did turned into a constant struggle over how far I'd go.

It took so long to get to this place, I didn't want to rush it. I didn't understand why we couldn't just enjoy the moment, enjoy being together, and not hurry to the next step.

And by next step, I meant physically.

There wasn't a lot of discussion about next steps in terms of our relationship.

After a couple of weeks, Nate started talking about how he felt that I was the one, his true love. It could all be so amazing, he said, if I just let him love me the way he wanted to.

This was what I'd been fantasizing about for so long. This was what I'd always wanted. So I thought, Yes, I'll do it. Because it will be with him. And that's what matters.

I decided to surprise him.

I decided to trust him.

I decided to go for it.

I had everything planned, everything in place. Our parents were going to be out late and we'd have the house to ourselves.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Pen?" Tracy asked me that morning.

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"I know I don't want to lose him," I replied.

That was my reasoning. This was for Nate. This had nothing to do with me and what I wanted. It was all for him,

I wanted it all to be spontaneous, I wanted him to have no idea, and then be overwhelmed with how perfect it (I) was. He didn't even know I was home; I wanted him to think that I was gone for the evening, to make it even more of a surprise. I wanted to show him that I was ready. Willing. Able. I had it all figured out, except what I was going to wear. I snuck into my sister Rita's room and went through her drawers until I found a white silk camisole that didn't leave much to the imagination. I took her red lace robe as well.

When I was finally ready, I crept down the stairs to Nate's room in our basement. I began to untie the robe, feeling a mixture of excitement and pure nervousness. I couldn't wait to see the look on Nate's face when he saw me. I couldn't wait to prove to him how I felt, so he would finally feel the same way.

I started to smile as I turned the lights on.

"Surprise!" I called out.

Nate popped up from the couch with a look of panic on his face.

"Hi ..." I said meekly as I dropped the robe on the floor.

Then a second head popped up from the couch.

A girl.

With Nate,

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I stood frozen, not believing my own eyes, I looked between the two of them as they fumbled for clothing. Finally, I reached for the robe and put it on, trying to cover as much of myself as possible.

The girl started giggling. "I thought you said your sister was gone for the evening!"

His sister? Nate didn't have a sister, I tried to tell myself there was a good explanation for what I was seeing. There was no way Nate would do something like this to me. Especially in my own house. Maybe this girl had been in a car accident right outside and Nate had brought her inside to .. . um, comfort her. Or they were just rehearsing a scene from a summer production of.. . Naked Romeo and Juliet Or maybe I had fallen asleep, and it was only a nightmare. .. . no.

The girl finished putting on her clothes, and Nate, avoiding my eyes, walked her upstairs.

Such a gentleman.

After what seemed like an eternity, he returned.

"Penny," he said, putting his arms around my waist, "I'm sorry that you had to see that."

I tried to speak, but couldn't find my voice.

He ran his arms up to my shoulders and started to rub them through the robe. "I'm sorry, Penny. So sorry. You have to believe me that this was something so stupid. I'm an idiot, A complete idiot."

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I shook my head. "How could you?" The words were barely a whisper, my throat was tight.

He leaned in. "Honestly, it will never happen again. I mean, nothing did happen. Nothing. It was nothing. She was nothing. You know how much you mean to me. You're the one I want to be with. You're the one I love." He moved his hands down my back. "Maybe this will make you feel better? Tell me what I can do, Penny. I would never want to hurt you."

The shock was slowly wearing off, revealing the anger underneath. I pulled away. "How could you?" I said. "HOW COULD YOU?" (I screamed the last part.)

"Look, I already apologized."

"You APOLOGIZED?"

"P enny, I'm so sorry."

"SORRY?"

"Please stop doing that and just listen to me, I can explain."

"Fine, then." I sat down on the couch, "Explain."

Nate glanced nervously at me – clearly he hadn't expected me to actually sit down and listen to what he had to say.

"Penny, that girl is nothing to me."

"Didn't look like it was nothing." I tightened the belt around my robe and grabbed a couch cushion to cover my legs.

Nate sighed. A full-blown sigh. "Oh, here we go with the dramatics," he said. Then he sat down next to me with his arms folded. "Fine – i£ you aren't going to accept my apology, I don't know what I can do."

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"Apology?" I laughed. "Do you think saying 'sorry' is going to erase this? I thought you said I was special." I looked down at the floor, ashamed of myself for even bringing it up.

"Penny, you are special. But, c'mon, what did you think was going to happen?" Nate's face turned bright red. "I mean, here's the thing. You and I.. . were ... were. .. well, it is what it is ..."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. The Nate from just a few short days ago was gone and some ... beast had taken his place.

"What does that mean?"

"Jesus Christ." Nate got up from the couch and started to pace. "This is exactly what I'm talking about. Look at you, sitting there like you did when we were little and didn't get what you wanted. Well, I wanted you for a long time, Penny. A very long time. But even though you think you want me, you don't want me. You want your childhood sweetheart version of me. The holding-hands-kiss-on-the-cheek Nate. Well, that Nate grew up. Maybe you should, too."

"But I..."

"What? You what? Put your sisters nightie on? That's child's play, Penny. In your mind, its a perpetual wedding day, no honeymoon, no taking off the wedding dress, nothing. But guess what. People have sex. It's not a big deal."

My body began to shake. It was hitting me.

Nate shook his head. "I should've known better than to get

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involved with you. What can I say? I was bored, and it was much easier to give in to your fantasy than to fight it. And, I will admit, you do have that cute little suburban thing going for you. I just never thought you'd turn out to be nothing but a tease."

I felt sick. Tears started to streak down my face,

"Oh, come on." Nate sat down and put his arm around me. "Just yell at me some more and you'll feel better. Then we can move on."

I shook myself free and ran upstairs.

Away from Nate.

Away from the lies.

Away from it all.

But I couldn't run away. He was living in our house for two more weeks. Every morning I had to get up and face him. Watch him leave the house, knowing he was probably going out with her. Knowing that he had to look elsewhere because I wasn't good enough for him. He would never see me "that way,"

Every day I was reminded of what a failure I was. How what I'd wanted for years had ended up hurting me more than I could imagine.

My older sister Rita was the only one in my family that I told, and I swore her to secrecy. I knew this would hurt our parents' longest, deepest friendship, and it didn't seem fair for Nate to destroy that, too. Plus, I was embarrassed, I couldn't bear to let my parents find out how stupid I was.

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Rita tried to comfort me. She even threatened Nate's life if he came within ten feet of me. But even a hundred feet would've been too close.

"Penny, its going to be okay," Rita promised as she wrapped her arms around me. "We all run into a few speed bumps along the way."

I didn't run into a speed bump. I ran into a brick wall.

And I never wanted to feel that pain again.

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chapter Three

I FELT LOST. I NEEDED TO hide away. Escape.

There was only one thing I could do to ease the pain. I turned to the only four guys who'd never let me down. The only four guys who'd never broken my heart, who'd never disappointed me,

John, Paul, George, and Ringo,

Anybody who has ever clung to a song like a musical life raft will understand. Or put on a song to bring out an emotion or a memory. Or had a soundtrack playing in their head to drown out a conversation or a scene.

As soon as I got back to my room, devastated by Nate's rejection, I turned up the volume so loud on my stereo that my bed began to shake. The Beatles had always been my security blanket. They were a part of my life before I even existed. In fact, if it wasn't for the Beatles, I would've never been born.

My parents met at a makeshift shrine in a Chicago park the night John Lennon was shot. Both were lifelong Beatles fanatics, and later on they felt they had no choice but to name their three daughters after Beatles songs: "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds," "Lovely Rita," and "Penny Lane."

Of course, my older sisters were lucky enough to get normal middle names, but my parents gave me the full Lennon/

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McCartney treatment: Penny Lane. I was even born on February 7 – the anniversary of the Beatles arriving in the United States for the first time. I didn't believe it was a coincidence. I wouldn't have put it past my mother to have refused to push just so I could be born on that day.

Most of our family vacations were spent in Liverpool, England. Every Christmas card we ever sent had us re-creating various Beatles album covers. Truth be told, I should have bated the Beatles, That should've been my rebellion. But instead, the Beatles became part of me. Whether I was happy or sad, I was comforted by their words, their music.

Now, I tried to drown out Nate's words with a blast of "Help!" While I did, I reached for my journal. The leather-bound book felt heavy in my hands, the years of emotion inside weighing it down. I opened it up and scanned the entries, most of them filled with Beatles lyrics. To anybody else, it would seem like nonsensical associations, but to me, the lyrics meant so much more than their words. Snapshots of my life: the good, the bad, and the boy-related.

So much heartache. I started to scan my past relationships.

Dan Walker, senior and, according to Tracy, a "major hottie." We dated for four months at the beginning of sophomore year. Things started out decent enough – if your definition of decent was going to the movies and then for pizza every Friday night with every other couple in town. Eventually, Dan started to mistake me for this character in the movie Almost Famous, also named Penny Lane, She was a glorified groupie,

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so Dan got it in his thick head that if he played "Stairway to Heaven" on the guitar, I would give it up. I quickly learned: Looks does not a decent guitar player make. Once Dan realized my pants were staying on, he changed his tune.

Then there was Derek Simpson, who I was pretty sure only dated me because he thought my pharmacist mother could get him drugs.

Darren McWilliams wasn't much better. We started dating right before this summer's Nate-craziness set in. He seemed like a sweet guy, until he started hanging out with Laura Jaworski, who happened to be a good friend of mine. He ended up double booking us for the same day. Little did he realize we would compare our calendars.

Dan, Derek, and Darren – and that was only sophomore year. I was cheated on, lied to, and used. The lesson I'd learned? To stay away from guys whose first name began with the letter D, since they were all the Devil.

Maybe Nate's real name was Dante the Destroyer of Dreams. Because he was ten times worse than the three Ds combined.

I put the journal down. I was mad at Nate, yes. But mostly I was furious with myself. Why did I let myself do it? What did I get out of any of these relationships besides a broken heart? I was smarter than that, I should've known better.

Did I really want to keep getting used? Was there anybody out there who was worth it?

I'd thought Nate was, but I was wrong.

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I got up to call Tracy –misery needed her company – when something caught my eye. I went over to my favorite Beatles poster and started to run my fingers across the lettering: Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.

I'd stared at that poster every day for the past seven years. I'd listened to that album, one of my favorites, hundreds of times. It was like it had always been a single long word to me, Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band But now three words separated themselves, and I saw something completely new inside Lonely

Hearts

Club

And that's when it happened.

Something about those words.

Lonely. Hearts. Club.

In theory, it may have sounded depressing. But there wasn't anything depressing about the music.

No, this Lonely Hearts Club was the opposite of depress-ing. It was alive.

The answer had been in front of me all along. There was a way to stop getting cheated on, lied to, and used.

I would stop torturing myself by dating loser guys. I would enjoy the benefits of being single. I would, for once, focus on me. Junior year would be my year. It would be all about me, Penny Lane Bloom, sole member and founder of The Lonely Hearts Club.

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Come Together

"... you've got to be free ...'

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chapter Four

BOYS WERE DEAD TO ME. The only question was: Why hadn't I thought of this sooner?

I knew the idea was genius. But it would've been nice if my best friend was able to stop looking at me like I was an escapee from a mental institution.

"Pen, you know I love you, but., ."

Here we go.

We were having an emergency meeting (complete with the cheese fries required to get over a breakup) at our local diner, less than an hour after my inspiration hit. Tracy took a sip of her milk shake, taking in my tirade about all the problems guys have caused me over the years. I hadn't even gotten to the part about the club yet and my decision to not date.

"I know you're upset, and you have every reason to be," Tracy said. "But not all guys are evil."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, really? Should we go through your lists from the last two years?"

Tracy slumped down in her seat. Every year she made a list of guys she wanted to date. She would spend all summer weighing her options before putting the list together for the school year, with each guy ranked in order of preference based on a ratio of looks, popularity, and looks.

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The list definitely caused more heartache than it was worth. Tracy still hadn't been on a date with any of the candidates. In fact, she'd never had a boyfriend. I couldn't figure out why. She was pretty, funny, smart, and one of the most loyal and dependable friends anyone could ask for. But, as if I needed another example of why boys sucked, none of the guys at McKinley seemed to feel she was girlfriend material.

Lucky her, I thought. But she wasn't seeing it that way.

"I don't know what you are talking about," she said.

"Right. So you're telling me you don't have a new list ready for inspection?"

Tracy moved her purse onto the seat next to her.

Of course she had a new list. We only had a few more days before the start of junior year.

"What to the evs," she huffed. "I guess I should just throw the list away since, according to you, all men are jerks."

I smiled. "Now we're getting somewhere. Lets burn it!"

Tracy groaned, "You've clearly lost your mind. Can you be serious for a second?"

"I am being serious,"

Now it was Tracy's turn to roll her eyes. "Come on – not every single male on this planet is a horrible human being. What about your dad?"

"What about Thomas Grant?" I shot back.

Tracy's mouth dropped open.

Okay, maybe that was a little harsh. Thomas had been on

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last years list. She'd spent an entire semester flirting with him in Chemistry. Finally he'd asked her if she was free one weekend. Tracy had been thrilled . . . until he tested her an hour before they were supposed to meet and told her that something had "come up," Then he'd ignored her the rest of the year. No explanation, no apology nothing.

Typical male.

"And Kevin Parker?" I pressed.

Tracy glared at me. "Well, its not my fault that he doesn't know I exist."

There was always one name on the top of Tracy's list – Kevin Parker, senior football player extraordinaire. Unfortunately Kevin had never acknowledged that Tracy was even alive. When I'd been dating Derek, I'd invite Kevin and his friends over to my house for the sole purpose of letting Kevin get to know Tracy. But he never paid any attention to her. One of the only reasons I put up with Derek for as long as I did was because Tracy needed her daily Kevin Parker fix.

Thinking about that list and how much it dictated Tracy's happiness made me want to rip it out of her purse and tear it apart. Because I knew – one by one, she'd have to cross their names off and she'd end up in tears.

Tracy sighed, then collected herself. "This year is going to be different," she swore. "I don't know – I've got a really good feeling about it." She took the list out and started wistfully looking at this years contenders.

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Had I seriously believed that Tracy would understand my need to stop dating? All she thought about was going on dates.

I gave up . . . for the moment,

Tracy wasn't the only one who had a good feeling about this year.

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chapter Five

THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL. I wasn't even at school yet, and I already had to face the enemy. Not Nate – he was gone. But Nate's kind.

"Aw, can you believe my baby brother is in high school?" Tracy gestured to the backseat of her car, where her brother Mike was blaring his iPod. "And you know, Pen, I don't see any horns on the top of his head."

"Yet "I smirked at her.

Little Mikey Larson was a freshman . .. a guy ..... one of them.

I wondered when he would start acting like every other guy at McKinley. Was there some sort of secret class where they taught boys to become himbos?

As Mike got out of Tracy's car, I couldn't help but notice how much more alike than ever they looked, with their dirty blond hair, hazel eyes, and heart-shaped faces,

Tracy looked me up and down. "Pen, those shoes are adorbs. You look smokin' hawt today." She applied a fresh coat of lip gloss in the rearview mirror. "Looking to impress anybody in particular?"

I groaned. "No – I just wanted to look nice for me."

Tracy gave me a look that said she didn't believe me.

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I didn't care. This was going to be the start of an amazing year. I opened the door to school, excited about getting a fresh start, minus all the boy craziness.

The smile on my face quickly vanished when the first person I saw was Dan Walker, wearing the letter jacket I'd "borrowed" when we were dating. How fitting that I would be greeted by a reminder of hideous boyfriends past. I was just thankful that Nate was miles away back in Chicago. I turned the corner to get away from Dan and saw Kevin Parker, who was apparently still too cool to give Tracy the time of day.

My frustration grew as I continued to survey my classmates. I'd walked these hallways thousands of times, but it was as if my eyes were open for the first time. All I saw were girls falling over themselves to flirt with guys, couples walking hand in hand, guys being ... well, guys: loud, obnoxious, egotistical. They didn't go to girls; girls came to them.

My bag vibrated and I pulled out my cell phone. I stopped dead in my tracks and Brian Reed bumped into me. "Watch it!" he yelled as his girlfriend, Pam, glared my way. Heaven forbid they weren't able to hold hands 24/7.

I snapped out of my daze. I was convinced there was some sort of mistake. But no – the phone cruelly confirmed the truth: It was a text from Nate. Of course he would find a way to torture me even though he wasn't around.

Have a good first day.

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What? First, he knew I wasn't talking to him. Second, it had only been two weeks – did he think I'd forgotten? Third, could he have been any lamer? I deleted the text and shoved my phone back into my bag.

I refused to let Nate Taylor ruin one more day of my life.

"You're in so much trouble, Bloom!" Ryan Bauer was leaning against his locker, arms folded, with a mischievous grin on his face.

Fabulous. I was so not in the mood to deal with his crap.

"What is it?" I asked impatiently as I opened my locker, three doors down from his.

Ryan looked at me, confused. "Um, never mind." He grabbed my class schedule from my stack of books,

Ryan Bauer was one of those guys with a clingy girlfriend whose life revolved around him. He was the biggest cliché at our school: a star athlete with good grades, who just happened to also be gorgeous. He was over six feet tall with a lean build; he had amazing blue eyes; and he was always running his hands through his black, wavy hair. Naturally, he was also one of the biggest flirts in school. I used to go along with it, but this time I didn't have any desire to further feed his ego.

He was a guy. A guy guy. As far as I was concerned, he probably had the dead bodies of small children and puppies hidden in his locker.

I almost didn't recognize him without Diane Monroe hanging on his every move. Ryan and Diane had been dating since forever. Well, technically seventh grade, but in high school

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that was forever. Diane was the classic girlfriend for an over-achiever like Ryan: shiny long blond hair, pale crystal-blue eyes, model-thin frame, and always, always put together – your standard Cheerleader/Student Council President type.

"Man, it looks like we only have World History together" Ryan was saying to me now. "Todd is in that class, too. That totally sucks."

"Yeah, sucks," I didn't even try to hide the sarcasm in my voice.

"Hiya!" I looked down the hallway and saw none other than Miss Diane Monroe walking toward us with a huge smile on her face. She probably had some sort of sixth sense telling her that Ryan was talking to another girl. I tried not to roll my eyes as I started fishing my books out of my locker. "Happy first day of school!" she said.

I slammed my locker shut and tried to head to Spanish class – but my path was blocked by Diane, standing in front of me with her smile getting even wider, which freaked me out somewhat.

"Hey, Penny," she said. "How was your summer?" Her eyes were practically sparkling with enthusiasm. It was almost enough to make me gag.

I looked at her in confusion. Why was she talking to me? We hadn't spoken in forever.

"Uh, hi, Diane." I didn't understand why everybody felt the need to bring up summer on the first day of school. It was so

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annoying. Summer was over. There wasn't a need to think about it. Ever again.

"So, notice anything?" Diane started to twirl around. Everything about her screamed perfect – no big changes there – so I just shrugged. "Penny." Diane looked stunned. "My outfit – don't you remember?" I scanned her clothes: fitted denim blazer with a black sequined shirt underneath, pink layered miniskirt, and four-inch pink strappy sandals. I shrugged. Clearly, I didn't remember.

"Penny!" Diane opened up her blazer to reveal that the sequined shirt had a Beatles logo. "Now do you remember? We always wore a Beatles shirt on the first day of school."

My mouth dropped open. Yeah, when we were ten ... and on speaking terms.

"Um, sorry," I said. "Its been a long time."

Diane's shoulders slouched. I wasn't giving her the response she'd been hoping for.

What did she expect? The last time I'd kept our first day of school ritual was in eighth grade. That was the day I'd been late for school because Diane hadn't come by my house to get me like she always did. That was the day my best friend forgot to wear her Beatles shirt. And it turned out to be the day I'd finally realized our friendship was over. We had been best friends for almost ten years. Our mothers had met at a book club when we were in diapers and had decided to make regular play dates for us. Her mother would pick us up from school

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and take us to the park, or we'd go back to my house and play in the backyard.

But none of that had mattered. Nothing else had mattered to Diane once Ryan came into the picture.

Diane had decided she only had room in her life for one person.

It had been between her best friend and her boyfriend.

Guess which one she'd picked.

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chapter six

I GOT AWAY FROM DIANE AND Ryan as quickly as possible, before they could become Diane and Ryan in the middle of the halls. But Diane's name popped back up at lunch,

"So guess who tried to make small talk with me in Biology and French like were friends?" Tracy asked while we walked to the cafeteria after morning classes. "Diane Monroe – can you believe that? I think she is probably jockeying to get as many votes for Homecoming Queen as possible."