Secrets (2 page)

Elizabeth understood Enid's fear of having something like this leak out. Sweet Valley was still a small town, despite its rapidly growing silicon chip industry. And in small towns, as her father said, rumors had a tendency to multiply like mice in a cornfield.

In many ways Sweet Valley High was the biggest mousetrap of all--the cafeteria, the locker rooms, and the front lawn were favorite centers of communication on every subject from the color of someone's hair to scandals involving drugs and who was fooling around with whom. Most of the gossip was harmless, but occasionally a vicious rumor would spread like wildfire, burning

innocent people in the process. Elizabeth recently had been on the receiving end of such a rumor herself, when her eternally two-faced twin was nearly arrested and let the police think she was Elizabeth. The cruel gossip had disturbed Elizabeth greatly, so she was in a better position than most to appreciate Enid's dilemma.

"I swear that if I ever tell about the letters, you can, uh--" Elizabeth grinned as inspiration struck. "You can bury me alive in chocolate-chip cookie batter!"

Enid moaned, holding her stomach. Both girls had eaten so many cookies they were sure they were going to gain at least fifty pounds apiece. But the joke had the desired effect of getting Enid to smile.

"Ugh!" Enid said. "I think I'll just take your word for it. I trust you, Liz, I really do. You're my very best friend."

"I should hope so." Elizabeth laughed, pretending to smother Enid with her pillow. "Who else would invite you to spend the night with the way you snore?"

"I don't snore!" Enid protested, leaping off the bed and dissolving into giggles as she beamed Elizabeth with her own pillow.

"Like a seven forty-seven at takeoff!" came Elizabeth's muffled shriek.

In all the commotion, neither girl noticed as one of George's letters fell to the carpet.

"I give--I give!" Elizabeth gasped at last.

"Come on, let's get into bed. We can tell ghost stories. I know a good one about these two teenage girls left all alone in this big creepy house...."

"Elizabeth Wakefield!" Enid cried. "If you tell me one of your ghost stories, I'll never get any sleep. The last time I couldn't sleep for a week."

Elizabeth smelled a challenge--and rose to it. She flicked off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into shadow darkness.

"It was a dark and stormy night...." she intoned in her creakiest voice.

Enid settled back with a sigh of defeat, secretly glad to get her mind off the real-life fear that was pressing down on her. The thought of losing Ronnie was the worst nightmare she could imagine.

Jessica stared restlessly out the window at the sloping green lawns of Sweet Valley High as Ms. Nora Dalton droned on and on, something to do with conjugating French verbs.

Bore, bored, boring,
Jessica conjugated in her mind. It was such a gorgeous day, she wished she were at the beach instead, soaking up the rays in the bronze, wet-look, one-piece she'd bought the week before at Foxy Mama.

Out of the corner of her eye she caught Winston Egbert, seated across the aisle, gazing at her with a goofy, lovesick expression. Yech! Did he have to stare at her like that? Even so, she found herself shifting slightly to a more flattering pose.

"We're ready whenever you are, Jessica."

Jessica whipped about to find herself under the sudden scrutiny of Ms. Dalton, a tall, slender woman in her twenties, whose wide-set hazel eyes regarded her with a hint of knowing amusement.

"Sorry," Jessica said, "I didn't get the question."

"I was just wondering if you might like to let us in on the secret," Ms. Dalton said, her smile widening. She didn't smile often, but when she did, her normally pretty but serious face lit up to spectacular effect.

"Secret?" Jessica echoed, growing distinctly uncomfortable.

"Oui.
The secret of how you expect to conjugate the verbs I've written on the board if you're not looking at it," she needled in a pleasant voice.

"Mental telepathy!" Winston piped, swooping to her rescue with clownish gallantry. "She's really Wonder Woman in disguise. Hey, Jess, show us how you leap tall buildings in a single bound."

"That's Superman, dummy," Ken Matthews said from the back of the classroom, where he sat with his long legs sprawled across the aisle. Ken also had a tendency to shoot off his mouth whenever the occasion arose. The difference between Ken and Winston was that Ken was tall, blond, gorgeous, and captain of the football team. "And you'll be out of here faster than a speeding bullet if you don't put a lid on it."

"Thank you. Ken," their teacher put in dryly.

"I think we can
all
settle down and get some work done now. Unless," she added, eyes sparkling, "any of you has X-ray vision and can see the answers I have hidden in my desk."

A ripple of laughter greeted this. Ken flashed her one of his thousand-watt grins. It was common knowledge that Ken was hopelessly in ' love with Ms. Dalton, who had been giving him extra tutoring after class to boost his near-failing grade. Even so, Jessica doubted that Ms. Dalton suspected that Ken had a crush on her.

Teachers could be so
dense
about some things, she thought.
She
was always the first to know it when a guy liked her--as well as the first to take advantage of it when it suited her. Even Winston might come in handy one of these days. The trouble was that right now the only one she really wanted was Bruce Patman, and she might as well live on the moon as far as he was concerned.

Jessica conjured up an image of Bruce--fabulously rich, popular, superstar-handsome Bruce of the ice-blue eyes and coal-black Porsche. If only he would ask her to the fall dance....

Of course, there
was
a way, even if he didn't ask her. Jessica had been nominated for queen. Bruce Patman was up for king. She played out the scenario in her mind. There she would be, utterly ravishing, pretending to look shocked that her name had been chosen. She would glide demurely up to the stage, the merest hint

of a tear trembling on her lower lashes--not enough to smudge her eyeliner--as she bowed her head in humble acceptance of the crown.

Naturally, Bruce would be chosen king. He was easily the best-looking boy in school. He would smile at her and take her hand, and the two of them would drift onto the dance floor for a solo dance under the spotlight, as if they were the only two people in the world.

She simply
had
to win. It was her big chance to make Bruce fall in love with her. The dance was only two weeks away, and Jessica was desperate to find a way of winning the crown for sure. She would do anything, absolutely
anything,
to be queen....

She was jolted from her daydream by the harsh jingle of the bell and the mad dash for the door.

Lila Fowler detached herself from the mob, falling in step with Jessica as she made her way toward the lockers, still caught up in the pink haze of her daydream.

"Don't you just
hate
her?" Lila hissed, a scowl twisting her pretty features.

"Who?" Jessica asked.

"Dalton. Who else? Didn't you care that she made a fool of you in front of the entire class?"

"Bite your tongue," Jessica returned blithely. "Nobody makes a fool of me. Least of all a cream puff like Ms. Dalton. Actually, she's not

so bad. I kind of like her, even if she
is
a teacher."

Ms. Dalton was one of the newer teachers at Sweet Valley High, so naturally there was a good deal of speculation about her. A lot of it had to do with her being young and pretty--a fact that wasn't lost on the male population of SVH, especially Mr. Roger Collins, faculty adviser for the school paper and resident "hunk" among the male teachers.

Jessica had learned that Ms. Dalton had recently begun dating Lila's divorced father, George Fowler. Anything to do with the Fowlers, one of the richest families in Sweet Valley, was news.

Lila enjoyed the attention, but what she didn't enjoy was the awful
thing
that was going on between her father and Nora Dalton. Jessica suspected that Lila was jealous. She was always vying for his attention, though it seemed as if he never had had enough time for her. Now that Ms. Dalton had entered the picture, he would have even less.

"I don't blame Daddy so much, even if he
is
being incredibly naive," Lila was saying. "After all, she practically threw herself at him. I'm positive she's only after his money."

Jessica wasn't normally in the habit of defending people, but even she thought Lila had gone overboard on the subject.

"Come on, Lila," she cajoled. "I just don't think Ms. Dalton is the man-eater type."

Lila shot her a look of disdain. "They're the worst kind, don't you see? The ones who don't
seem
the type. I mean, look at the way she keeps Ken Matthews dangling, for instance. It's positively disgusting!"

"Ken?" Jessica snorted. "I think you're just jealous because he'll be thinking of Ms. Dalton while he's at the dance with you."

"I am
not
jealous. Just because Ken's taking me to the dance doesn't make him the love of my life. Why should I care if he's got the hots for some other girl?"

"Girl? Lila, honey, Ms. Dalton is practically old enough to be his mother, for heaven's sake!"

"She's twenty-five," Lila replied haughtily. "I asked my father. That makes her exactly nine years older than us."

"It still doesn't explain why she'd be interested in Kenny. I mean, I know he'd probably jump off the Golden Gate Bridge if she asked him to, but--"

"Don't you see?" Lila broke in. She yanked her locker open savagely. "She's too subtle for anything
that
obvious. I'll bet there's a whole lot that we don't know about. I've seen the way she drapes herself across his desk when they're alone in the classroom."

"Really? I hadn't noticed." Jessica peered into the small mirror that was taped to the inside of the locker door as she concentrated on applying a fresh coat of Plum Passion gloss to her lips.

Actually, if Ms. Dalton was having an affair with Ken Matthews, it might even liven things up at school, she thought.

"I wish I could catch her
really
doing something with Ken," Lila muttered. "Then my father's see what she's like under all that nicey-nice."

"Catch who?" Cara Walker strolled up beside them, her eyes alight with curiosity.

Cara was always looking for fresh gossip. It was one of the reasons she and Jessica were such good friends. Cara was content to let Hurricane Jessica make all the waves, while she followed in her wake, gathering up the debris of gossip that littered her path. With her sleek, dark good looks, Cara was pretty and popular in her own right, though certainly no match for the stunning Jessica--a crucial point in her favor, as far as Jessica was concerned.

"Ms. Dalton," Jessica drawled, forming her mouth into a sexy pout as she looked at herself in the mirror. "Lila's convinced she and Ken Matthews are having some kind of passionate affair."

"What?"
Cara screeched. This was almost too good to be true. "I don't believe it!"

"Believe it," snapped Lila, slamming her locker shut with an ear-splitting clang.

"You mean, you've actually seen them--"

The rest of Cara's question was swallowed up as the second bell shattered the air. Jessica and

Cara both slammed their lockers shut, then locked them.

"Got to rush," said Lila. "I don't want to be late for choir. They're choosing soloists today for the Christmas program. "I'll just die if I don't get lead soprano!"

"Don't worry," Cara assured her. "I overheard Ms. Bellesario in the office telling old Chrome Dome that you were a sure thing."

Lila's brooding expression switched to a look of stunned happiness. First she hugged Cara, then Jessica, who squealed aloud in protest.

"Hey, watch it! You're going to smudge my masterpiece. I want to look absolutely perfect in case I happen to run into you-know-who."

Cara cast Jessica a knowing grin as she waved goodbye to Lila. "You-know-who's initials wouldn't happen to be B.P., by any chance, would they?"

"You've got it." Jessica giggled. "For Beautiful Person."

"Or maybe Black Porsche," Cara joked.

"You have to admit," said Jessica, "there is something wildly sexy about a man in a black Porsche--especially if he's six feet plus and has gorgeous blue eyes and is incredibly rich," she added.

Jessica sighed. She'd never wanted anything so badly in her entire life as she wanted to go to the dance with Bruce. It was a new feeling for her. She was used to getting what she wanted--

one way or another. And yet half the time Bruce acted as if he scarcely noticed she was alive, even though she'd done everything she could to get him to notice. Like the time she'd dropped half a ton of books right at his feet in study hall. Bruce had only grinned lazily and without lifting a single finger to help her pick anything up, commented, "Way to go, Wakefield."

This time she wasn't going to let him slide out of her grasp so easily. She had an idea. "Hey, Cara," she said, linking arms with her best friend as they strolled off toward class. "You sit next to Ronnie Edwards in history, don't you?"

"What of it? Got your eye on him, too? I don't blame you. He's not bad-looking."

"He's also head of the dance committee," Jessica put in quickly. "I was just wondering if you would feel him out for me. You know, next time you're talking to him, sort of casually try to influence him to get kids to vote for me."

"Sure thing," said Cara. "But frankly, Jess, I don't see what you're so worried about. I mean, look at the competition, will you? Enid Rollins, for instance. You're about a million times prettier."

Jessica's eyes narrowed at the mention of Enid's name. "Yeah, Enid's a nerd, all right, but she happens to be Ronnie's girlfriend, remember? He could get a lot of people to vote for her."

Cara shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe they'll break up before then."

"No way. Have you seen how they act around each other? You'd think they were joined at the hip!"

"Make that joined at the lip." Cara giggled.

But Jessica was too busy boiling to take notice. She had other reasons for disliking Enid, mainly the fact that lately she seemed to be taking up every spare minute of Elizabeth's time. Time Elizabeth could be spending with her adorable, fun-loving twin sister instead.

"Frankly," Jessica said, "I can't imagine what a cute guy like Ronnie sees in that little creep."

"Liz seems to like her pretty well, too," commented Cara, casting Jessica a sidelong glance.

"Liz!" Jessica snorted in disgust. "Listen, Cara, my sister has absolutely
no
taste when it comes to picking friends. It's positively embarrassing! I mean, what if someone thought it was
me
hanging out with Enid?"

As they turned the corner, Jessica caught sight of Bruce Patman in the crowded corridor. He was loping toward the staircase, looking impossibly gorgeous, as usual, in a pair of off-white cords and a heather-blue sweater that matched his eyes. Her knees went weak as warm Jell-O, and her heart thundered in her ears.

"I've got to go. I'll talk to you later," she tossed distractedly back at Cara, her eyes riveted

on the glorious spectacle of Bruce climbing the stairs with the loose-limbed grace of a young lion.

Perfection,
Jessica thought, feeling herself grow warm and prickly all over. Bruce was absolute perfection, from his toes to his carelessly tousled dark hair. He looked airbrushed, as if he'd just stepped from the pages of a magazine. Jessica stared after him, hopelessly mesmerized.

"Wait a minute," Cara protested, tugging at her arm. "You never did finish telling me about Ken and Ms. D--"

But Jessica had already forgotten about Ms. Dalton. She had Bruce in her sights, and like a bullet homing toward the target, she was dashing ahead to catch up with him.