The Lonely Hearts Club

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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.

"Yesterday

love was such an easy game to play…"

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.)

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