We Can Work It Out

  Brian snickered and Todd snapped his fingers at him, which made Brian quickly shut up.

  I’d never understand why people fell over themselves to please Todd. As he had often proven, he wasn’t that smart or even good-looking. So he was a slightly above average athlete. That was it.

  The only thing he ever really excelled at was bullying, but I had had enough of that.

  And it seemed that I wasn’t the only one.

  Ryan maneuvered himself away from Todd and began walking down the hallway alone. As much as I wanted Ryan to rejoin his former friends, I was secretly happy he’d turned his back on them, even with me out of the picture.

  “Seriously, Bauer?” Todd called after him. “I have my limits. You should be grateful.”

  “Yeah, you’re so generous.” I covered my remark with sarcasm. But like so many things, it was lost on Todd.

  I also turned my back on him and started walking to class. Todd called me a bitch under his breath as I left.

  Yeah, so I’d been told.

  While that word could sting, the only two people who had ever called me that were Todd and Nate. Two guys who felt they were better than me. That I should’ve felt honored to be in their presence. That I should’ve allowed them to get away with cheating, lying, and bullying.

  But I didn’t.

  Because I stood up for myself and my friends. Because I had enough of them making other people feel like they weren’t enough. Because my life would be so much better without them in it. Because they were so not worth it.

  So if being a strong, independent woman made me a bitch, then I was a total bitch.

  And proud of it.

  Our house hadn’t fully recovered from the wedding — torn wrapping paper on the floor, guest booklet on the counter, empty gift bags and envelopes scattered throughout the living room — so I didn’t feel too guilty that I made a mess with plastering schedules, venue possibilities, and other brainstorming ideas on every surface of the kitchen.

  Even though the wedding had been over a week ago, my throat still hurt. I sipped on some hot tea as I looked at the calendar. Everybody thought I was crazy suggesting we do the dance-a-thon a week before junior Prom, but I also knew that I wouldn’t have to worry about Prom. Sure, the Club would all go together, but it was more the who I didn’t want to think about.

  My phone rang. “Hey, Diane,” I said. Then I glanced at the clock — she was running a few minutes late, which wasn’t like her.

  “Okay, I’m here, but I want you to brace yourself,” she said with a quiver in her voice.

  Immediately my mind went to Ryan. She hadn’t said much about him since the breakup. I pretty much pretended our relationship hadn’t happened. It was the only way I was going to be able to get through this. Plus, Diane knew she would be the last person I’d want to talk to about it. I didn’t like shutting out one of my closest friends, but I needed to keep moving forward. If I opened up to her, I was afraid of what would happen. I was barely hanging on as it was. I was grateful to have the dance-a-thon to throw myself into. I’d been reluctant to delegate any of the tasks because I wanted to do it all myself. That way I’d have no free time to think about the decisions that I had made.

  Diane, however, insisted on coming over to help.

  “What’s going on?” I ran to the door and opened it.

  I hadn’t fully braced myself for what would be on the other side.

  It was Diane. With short hair. Like, boy short, with a light pink streak in her bangs, which were swept over to the side.

  “So?” She nervously fiddled with the same silver Tiffany’s bracelet that I also wore on my wrist. Matching bracelets had been her gift to Tracy and me that Christmas.

  “Oh my God.” I reached out and touched her hair. I’d known Diane practically my entire life, and she had always had her gorgeous, flowing locks. They were such a part of who she was.

  It probably shouldn’t come as a shock that she still looked absolutely stunning. Her hair was no longer hiding the perfect angles of her face. Her blue eyes stood out even more.

  I was mesmerized.

  “Please say something — you’re freaking me out.” She wrapped her arms around her petite frame like she was cold.

  “You look amazing!” I brought her inside the house and started circling her, studying the New Diane from every angle. “What made you decide to cut it?”

  “I think I had a midsemester crisis when basketball finished last week. I usually had cheerleading to keep me busy in the spring, and, you know, other things.”

  Yes, I did. Like being a full-time girlfriend.

  “I should’ve done it earlier.” She reached up and touched the back of her neck. “All season long, I kept having to put my hair up in ponytail after ponytail. It would never stay in place. Then I had to use a headband to keep the flyaways off my face. But I guess I didn’t have guts to do it until now.”

  “And the pink?” I asked.

  She smiled knowingly at me. “I might have short hair, but I’m still that girly girl you’ve come to love to tease.”

  We sat down at the kitchen and started going through the list of things we needed to do before Saturday’s meeting.

  “You do realize that we have to find another venue. Did you want me to see if …” She let the thought hang in the air. It was the closest she had come to talking to me about it.

  “No,” I replied. It wasn’t my pride preventing me from asking Ryan if he’d get PARC for us — it was logistics. What we really needed was the high school gym. But Principal Braddock hadn’t even let us have the fund-raiser we did for the basketball team in the high school because the Club was involved. He wasn’t a fan of the Club … or of me personally.

  I had such a way with the male species.

  The doorbell rang and I got up to answer it. If I’d been shocked by opening that door to Diane’s short ’do a few minutes before, I was nearly knocked over when I saw what was waiting for me this time.

  It was the last person I’d have ever expected to visit me at home.

  And she was crying.

  Missy.

  “Is everything okay?” Diane asked, coming over to see who it was.

  Missy shook her head and began speaking through tears. “Todd … he … how could he … dumped …” And then she began to wail.

  Diane pushed me aside and escorted Missy inside. As she sat down at our kitchen table, Diane handed her a tissue.

  “Thanks,” Missy sniffled. “What happened to your hair?”

  Of course Missy wouldn’t let something like heartbreak stop her from criticizing Diane’s hair.

  While Diane explained her new look, I continued to study Missy. Diane was too polite to question her motives in showing up at my doorstep, but something seemed off. Missy regarded me as her mortal enemy (the feeling was mutual), yet here she was.

  “What’s going on, Missy?” I asked flatly.

  A tear, tinted black from her mascara, ran down her face. “I didn’t know where to go, and I know we’ve had our differences, but Todd was being so horrible.”

  So far her story checked out. “Go on,” I prodded, keeping my guard up.

  “I thought that if I hung out with Todd that, like, I’d be super popular. I don’t know …”

  Yes, I also didn’t know why people thought that.

  She looked down at the table, as if that magically explained everything.

  “Are you for real right now?” I asked. Diane seemed a little taken back at my bluntness, but did she really think I would open my arms, and the Club, to Missy? Did Missy really think that? “You’ve done nothing but make fun of the Club and its members. So Todd allegedly broke your heart and you want me to let bygones be bygones? And what? You want to be in The Lonely Hearts Club now?”

  Missy started crying again. And the Oscar goes to …

  “You don’t believe me?” She jutted out her bottom lip.

  “Why should I?” I replied. I wouldn’t have put it past Todd
to ask Missy to go undercover and sabotage the group. Granted, it was a little ambitious for Todd, since it would require a brain and some planning, but it was possible.

  “But I thought …” Missy looked lost. “I thought that you were someone people could go to when they needed help. I’m really upset right now, and I don’t think my friends will understand.”

  “I’m sorry that you don’t have friends who would understand,” I said. And I truly meant it. But I also knew the kind of person Missy was, and that people have a tendency to attract friends who are like them. So if Missy was around people who weren’t good friends, what did that say about the kind of friend she was?

  I went on, “But you can’t treat me and my friends like crap and then think that we’d be there for you when you need us. Because I feel that if Todd called you right now, you’d go crawling back. The Lonely Hearts Club isn’t something you use when it’s convenient to you. It’s a family. A family that we have chosen for ourselves. And I don’t see you being a part of it.”

  I hated kicking someone when they were down, even if that person was Missy. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t here for the right reasons. Ever since we’d met on her first day of school, she’d been nothing but dismissive and vindictive.

  Missy stayed silent for a few beats, then turned to Diane. “What do you think?”

  Diane touched her shoulder. “I think that you need to figure out what you really want out of high school. You’ve been blindly following guys around all year. What do you want to do? What are your interests? I think that Missy needs to spend some time with Missy. Alone.”

  Missy nodded slowly and then got up from her chair. “Thanks.” Her voice was so small, it almost made me feel bad for her. Almost.

  It wasn’t like I was suffering from amnesia.

  Despite what Nate had suggested, it was possible for me to forgive people. I’d forgiven Diane for ignoring me for four years. Her friendship was worth putting the past behind us.

  But forgiving and forgetting were two very different things.

  Diane and I watched Missy walk down the sidewalk. “Do you think that was real?” I asked.

  Diane reached up automatically to twirl her hair, then studied her hand when she realized her reflexive gesture was now impossible. “I don’t know. I feel bad for her, but you did the right thing. I can’t believe she thought you’d be willing to even talk to her. Either she’s faking it or she’s really that desperate.”

  I knew more than most what heartbreak could cause a person to do. Maybe Missy was telling the truth. Maybe this was an elaborate scam. I didn’t know what to believe anymore. What I did know was that time would eventually reveal what was real.

  I SEQUESTERED MYSELF IN THE LIBRARY for nearly an hour after school on Friday to get as much homework done as possible before I spent the weekend working on the dance-a-thon. I’d also been avoiding my locker so I wouldn’t have to face the consequences of what my decision had cost me. Since the hallways were practically deserted, I didn’t even glance before rounding the corner to my locker. I thought I was safe. Why on earth would he have been there?

  But there Ryan was. At his locker, getting his books together. I stood still, debating an escape in the opposite direction. But then he turned around and our eyes locked. There was no other choice but to go to my locker.

  We hadn’t really spoken since my first day back after the wedding. Sure, I’d seen him in class, but I made certain to be around a Club member to help distract me.

  “Hi,” I said cautiously.

  “Hey,” he replied. “You’re here late.”

  “I’ve been in the library. You?”

  “Student Council meeting.”

  “Student Council!” I hit him on the arm before I could stop myself. Ryan was still on Student Council. So there was one thing I hadn’t completely destroyed for him.

  He looked confused. “Yeah, I’ve been on it since we were freshmen. Well, I should get going. Sorry to ruin your streak of avoiding me.”

  “I’m not —” I stopped myself from lying to him. He knew better. “How are things?”

  “Things are just great,” he said with a hint of sarcasm.

  “I see that you’re sitting with most of your friends at lunch again.”

  “Yep.”

  Ryan was back with all of them — except Todd. I don’t think Ryan had any desire to repair that relationship. But all the other guys seemed less concerned about pissing Todd off, so they sat with Ryan when they wanted to.

  “So things are … better?” I needed validation that the breakup had been worth it.

  He sighed. “What do you want me to say?”

  Honestly, there wasn’t an answer he could’ve given me to make me feel better. If he was doing great, then it proved that I had ruined his life. If he was miserable, then it confirmed that I had made a horrible mistake.

  “I want to know the truth,” I told him. Even though I wasn’t sure that was the case.

  “Fine, here’s truth: I’m glad Todd’s out of my life. That guy was toxic and it was only a matter of time before I realized that. My dad always has been, and will continue to be, an ass. I missed all of two basketball games. Braddock’s advisory committee was a joke, and I’m happy to not have to waste any more time on it. So my life isn’t that different from a few months ago save for one big thing. The thing that hurt me the most. I don’t know what else you want to hear. I’m not going to stand here and make you feel better about what you did.” Ryan turned on his heel and walked away from me.

  I was the one who’d hurt him the most. There were no guarantees that I wouldn’t hurt him again. I’d tried to make it work, but I failed. I’d hurt him. I didn’t want to hurt him again, so I needed to stay as far away from him as possible.

  I tried to find solace in the fact that his life seemed to be getting back to normal. That he was better without me. He had every right to hate me.

  But as much as I searched to find comfort in that, all I felt was my heart tearing further and further apart.

  There was only one solution I had to being in this much pain: The Lonely Hearts Club. Fortunately, it was as strong and busy as ever. We had five weeks to pull off the impossible.

  If it were any other group of people, I would’ve had my doubts. But I had faith in us.

  The basement resembled a war room: to-do lists, venues, and ideas were plastered on the walls.

  “Okay.” Diane took charge at our meeting that Saturday. “We’ve got to go over the rules.”

  Tracy stood up. “Rules? Rules? We don’t need no stinkin’ rules!”

  Diane continued without missing a beat. “Actually, we do. The dance-a-thon will last twelve hours. People will register in teams of four to six members. A member of the team must be on the dance floor at all times. Each team is required to have sponsorship of at least four hundred dollars to participate. There will be prizes for the team that raises the most money and the team with the best costumes. We’ll also have a raffle and door prizes. Which means we need to get prizes.” She started distributing a spreadsheet. “I’ve broken down a list of businesses downtown for us to approach. Let me know if you or your family has any connections at these stores.”

  So many hands went up in the air, there were only a few places we’d be forced to cold-call.

  Diane looked over her list before turning her attention to me. “Do you want to talk about music?”

  When didn’t I want to talk about music?

  “Yes, so we’re going to start the dance off with music from the fifties and then work our way up to current music at the end. Tyson’s band’s going to play an hour set with music from all the decades.”

  Morgan interrupted, “He promised to do some Beatles, Penny.”

  “Oh, he doesn’t have to.” I glanced up at the ceiling, knowing full well how my parents felt about anybody but John, Paul, George, and Ringo playing their music. “We’re also going to work with a vendor to get a percentage of foo
d and beverage sales. The website is being updated so we can handle ticket sales and sign-ups, although we’ll also see if we can get businesses to sell tickets as well. We’re in really good shape, except …”

  It always seemed to come down to location, location, location.

  The hotels we looked into would cut into our profits, even though Hilary’s dad was working on getting us registered for something like tax-exempt status since all the profits would be donated. Every day, another issue would pop up. Our little dance was becoming more and more complicated.

  But that only intensified my drive. I felt like we had to do this. I needed to do this. Every second that I wasn’t at school, studying, or working, I dedicated to the dance-a-thon. It was becoming an obsession. I kept telling myself that it was all for the Club. I hoped I was right.

  Jessica stood up. “My mom’s working on getting the elementary school. She seems to think if the community really got involved, they’d be more open to it than if it was only a Club thing.”

  There was some rumbling in a corner. Meg stood up and said, “Actually, the seniors have been talking. We can’t begin to tell you how much doing this for one of us means. But we also think that it would give the Club a boost if we split the profits with another organization. So half would go to the scholarship student, the rest to another worthy cause. Like PARC. The people there have been really supportive of us and, well, it has seen better days.”

  Murmurs of agreement began sprouting up in the room.

  “I think that’s a great idea,” Diane said, then put it up to a group vote.

  It was unanimous.

  At the end of the meeting, Michelle approached me and asked if I had a second to talk.

  “Of course,” I said, rubbing my forehead. A dull ache had begun to throb in my temples. “What’s up?”

  She hesitated. “I talked to Missy Winston the other day. She’s really upset about Todd breaking up with her, which is so unlike her. She’s had a lot of boyfriends but always moved on quickly. She’s really torn up.”