Page 67 of The Matchmaker Club

She shifted in reverse. “The more, the merrier, I suppose.”

I wasn’t so sure about that.

Dear Matchmaker,

I used to think the Matchmaker stuff was kind of dumb when I was a kid. The girls in high school loved this crap, like you had magical powers or something. I thought you were just some mushy, sentimental town fool or someone who liked to get in other people’s business. I never thought I’d see the day when I’d sit down and write a letter to you, but here I am.

I’ve only been in love once, but I don’t think I realized how special she was until after it was too late.

The truth is, I wasn’t even interested at first.

Most of the guys thought she was hot, but they wouldn’t go near her. The rumor was that she would make you fall in love under some spell, get pregnant, and kill you off. I thought it was stupid. So they gave me a dare. I never backed out of a dare.

What I didn’t expect was to fall in love with her. And I tell you now, that was the best summer I’ve ever had. If there’s any witchcraft going on, it’s that damned estate. It’s like this bubble separated from the rest of the world. Like nothing else matters but the moment.

After being raised in a household where image and everything you do matters, it was a taste of freedom I’d been craving for so long, I couldn’t get enough of it. I lied, sneaked… everything I could to spend more time with her. I even lied to her when it came to going out in public together or when she brought up meeting my parents.

It got to the point I couldn’t lie anymore. I had to make a choice: Let her go or get some guts and tell the truth about what I felt for her.

Stupid me let her go. I figured I had my whole life ahead of me, and there would be more girls and more summers. There were, but none of those relationships ever compared to that one summer with her.

I want it back. I don’t care what other people think anymore. Not even my parents. If gossip and rumors and even being disowned are what I gotta face to have a lifetime of that summer, I’ll do it.

My only problem? She hates me.

If you could help me win her back, I’d be the happiest man alive in ten counties. Here’s hoping you aren’t just some sentimental town fool who likes to get in people’s business.

Maybe there’s some magic to all this Matchmaker stuff… or I’m the sentimental town fool.

Please tape your reply letter under the wood bridge on West Trail of Fanny’s Pond.

Achy Breaky Heart