“What?” I taunted him by pretending to line up for a pitch. “You don’t think I know how to use this thing?”
“Yeah, right,” Todd scoffed. He held his hands up and pretended to quiver. “I’m so scared of a girl.”
They all began to laugh as I moved to the front of Todd’s truck. The headlights were illuminating my profile as I bent my knees and starting taking small practice swings. “You know, Todd, you should never underestimate a girl, especially one who grew up in a household where her dad didn’t have any sons to play baseball with.”
In truth, my father wasn’t really into sports. Unless marathon viewing of Beatles movies counted as a sporting event. But Todd didn’t know that (among many, many other things).
I moved nearer to Todd’s headlight and swung the bat closer and closer.
“Come on, Penny, we were just fooling around,” he said, desperation seeping into his voice.
“Gee, that’s exactly what I’m doing.” I planted my feet, held the bat above my shoulders, and shifted my weight as I swung the baseball bat hard toward Todd’s right headlight.
“No!” Todd shrieked, his voice high.
I stopped the bat mere centimeters away from the light, and then let it drop to the pavement. “I guess the difference between us is that when I fool around, I don’t hurt anybody or their property. Let’s go, guys.”
Tracy, Diane, and I walked away from a distraught Todd and headed inside the school.
One down, four to go.
“Hey, Ryan!” Diane greeted her ex-boyfriend, who was manning the ticket counter. I was still amazed at how they’d been able to remain friends after they broke up. They both genuinely wished the other well.
The only thing I hoped for Nate Taylor was a slow and painful death.
“What up, Bauer?” Tracy gave him a small nod. “Are you dressed up as a monk?”
Ryan wore a cream-colored long-sleeve tunic and pants. He reached down and pulled out a lightsaber. “Luke Skywalker. Katie wanted to be Princess Leia — complete with the side buns.” He smiled broadly and I had to look away. “It was pretty adorable.” Katie was Ryan’s eight-year-old stepsister. It was pretty adorable.
Of course, I couldn’t have said any of that. Things with Ryan and me were … tense. We went on a something or other on Thursday. It wasn’t a date, since I wasn’t allowed to go on a date, but I’ve been uncomfortable around him ever since. Instead of responding, I decided to pretend to be interested in all the costumes that passed us.
Fortunately, the other members started trickling in after successfully completing their given tasks. I took a few steps away from Hilary and her moving duffel bag. Amy was the last to arrive, her face in zombie makeup, the rest of her outfit slightly disheveled.
“Ready?” Diane asked us.
“Um, is there something I should know?” Ryan asked warily.
“Nothing you need to worry about,” Diane explained. “We’ve got something to sort out. Actually, we could use your help with one thing.” Diane leaned down and whispered into Ryan’s ear. I was waiting for him to protest, but he wrote down his instructions and gave Diane a resolute nod.
And with that we were off.
There were four young punks in need of a lesson on how to treat a lady.
The haunted house was set up in the gym. It consisted of different “rooms” spread throughout the floor. Each room featured a specific spooky creature or theme: a cemetery, mazes where creatures would jump out, chainsaw sounds, and the like.
However, Erin’s brother and his friends would be getting a private tour of another room exclusively set up for them: the girls’ locker room.
Diane glanced at her phone. “That was Ryan. They’re here.”
We all got into our places. It was up to Jen, who was also in Student Council, to guide them from the cemetery to the locker room. We waited patiently for the door to open.
“This is so stupid,” a voice came from outside the door. “Oh, okay, the girls’ room. Scaaary!”
The door opened. Jen (who was covered up with a black robe and skeleton mask) stretched an arm out, and four boys stepped inside.
It was pitch-black in the locker room, save for the flickering of an overhead light in the corner.
Nobody moved for a couple of minutes. The guys began shifting back and forth on their heels, waiting for something to happen.
This was the part of scary movies that always unnerved me, the quiet before something jumped out of the dark. It was the anticipation that was the worst part.
“We should go,” one of them said, but when he reached for the door, it wouldn’t open. He yanked harder on it. “It’s locked.”
“Let me try.” Another pushed him out of the way. The door wouldn’t budge.
A shadowy figure began to approach them.
“Ah, guys!” Erin’s brother, Danny, exclaimed when he saw the figure getting closer and closer.
A menacing voice began to echo off the concrete walls. “Danny Fitzgerald, I know what you did this evening. I know what you all did this evening.”
“Dude, how’d it know your name?” one of the boys asked a shocked Danny.
“We should get out of here.” Danny pulled harder on the door handle.
“STOP!” The voice commanded. It was deep with a slight reverb to it, thanks to the voice modulator on Erin’s karaoke machine.
Kara jumped out in front of them wearing a black robe and the mask from Scream — which was exactly what Danny did. He’d watched that movie with Erin a couple of years ago and was terrified of the white face mask with the openmouthed expression.
Hilary was next to approach him, wearing all black, including a ski mask. She kept her hands behind her back until she was close to the four who were now leaning against the wall. She was only inches away when she pulled her arms forward, and the guys squirmed at the sight of the snake that was wrapped around her wrist. (Hilary’s brother had a pet ball python, a fact that Hilary had kept secret, as I was positive most of us would’ve wisely refused to come over to her house.)
At that cue, the rest of us started rhythmically banging on the benches on the other side of the lockers, which were partially hidden from view.
“Prepare for the sacrifice,” Erin’s disguised voice boomed.
Another cloaked figure (Tracy) held up Mr. Bubbles, Danny’s stuffed monkey. He still slept with the toy, but only Erin and their parents (and now the Club) knew that.
“What? How did you get that?” Danny protested. “Hey! You’re not supposed to touch us!” he shrieked as Kara and Hilary grabbed the boys by their arms and pulled them farther into the locker room.
The banging of the benches, and now lockers, continued to echo around the room, further unnerving our captives. Tracy held out a (fake) knife and placed the stuffed monkey on the floor.
“What the hell is that?” one of Danny’s friends asked. He laughed at the end, but it was one of those forced laughs that revealed how nervous he really was.
Tracy dramatically lifted the knife in the air above the monkey.
“What are you doing?” Danny’s voice was at a near panic. “What do you want? Do you want candy? Money?” He nervously began emptying his pockets. “I’ve got … like, five dollars. You can’t do this. Please. If you hurt him, I’m going to tell!”
Tracy raised her arm higher and started to bring the knife down, when a different voice from the modulator called out, “NO!” It was a voice, low, near a whisper, that personified evil. “Leave him to me.”
I turned on a flashlight to illuminate Amy’s back. She began to shuffle toward them like an extra on The Walking Dead.
“You know what you did to this poor girl,” Erin’s original scary voice growled out. “And now you will pay.”
Danny’s eyes darted to Amy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We didn’t do anything. We didn’t —” It was as if a lightbulb went on in Danny’s head. “Oh God, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, okay? I didn’t want to do i
t, it … it was Barry’s idea!”
“Hey!” The kid who I assumed was Barry began backing away.
“ENOUGH!” the voice snapped. “Get down on your knees. All of you.”
The four looked at one another with a combined mix of terror and denial. Danny quickly got on his knees and urged the others to follow. “Nothing can happen to Mr. Bubbles, okay?”
“Mr. Bubbles?” One of his friends snickered.
“NOW!”
The others quickly followed suit and got on the floor.
“ONE … TWO …” All four had their shoulders pressed up to their ears. “THREE!”
The lights went on. Erin was standing in front of her brother. “You’re going to be in so much trouble when we get home.”
“Wait, what?” Her brother looked around in a daze as he quickly found himself surrounded by The Lonely Hearts Club.
“You attacked one of my friends and you didn’t think I was going to do something about it?”
Amy gave a wave. “Remember me?”
“But first, payback.” Erin smiled as she, Amy, Kara, and Jen smashed a raw egg on the head of each boy. “That’s what you get for being jerks.”
Danny tried to protest, but Erin yanked him up by the arm, yolk oozing down his forehead. “Save it for Dad. I’m taking you all home and having a little chat with your parents.”
The four boys reluctantly followed her out, to the cheers from the group.
“Mission accomplished!” Diane said with a little too much enthusiasm for someone who was always bound by the rules.
But since we weren’t complete rule breakers, we did stay to help clean up the locker room, and Diane roped most of us into helping the Student Council dismantle the haunted house at the end of the night. We enjoyed reminiscing about the shocked looks on the boys’ faces and their high-pitched shrieks of terror.
“Come on, Pen.” Tracy looked at me with a satisfied smirk as we made our way back to her car. “Even you’ve got to admit that Halloween was pretty fun this year.”
“Yes,” I conceded without an ounce of reluctance. “I never thought so, but you guys made a believer out of me.”
“Um, yeah.” Tracy bumped my hip. “The Lonely Hearts Club makes everything better.”
Tracy was right.
Rosie the Riveter was right, too: We can do it. And we did.
We could accomplish anything if we were together.
Especially putting silly boys in their place.
Keep reading for a special sneak peek of
We Can Work It Out, a return to the characters of The Lonely Hearts Club from romantic comedy superstar Elizabeth Eulberg!
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 stoppe
d 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.”