Playing With Fire (11 page)

“He'll be angry, but I don't think he'd flunk you just like that. Russo's tough, but he's a human being, too. He might understand everything you've been going through lately and accept what made you cheat. You've got a good reputation at school, and he'll have a lot more sympathy for you if you tell him now than he will if you don't tell him and he finds out anyway.”

Emily quietly considered Elizabeth's words. Finally, as they pulled into the Mayers' driveway, Emily turned to Elizabeth and gave her a trembling smile. “Thanks, Liz, I'll think about what you said.”

Elizabeth watched her troubled friend disappear into the house and shook her head sympathetically.
This is one problem I'm glad I don't have,
she thought.
It's going to be tough to settle. Very tough.

Eleven

The Sweet Valley High newspaper office was buzzing with the frenetic activity that was standard on the day before presstime. Each of the page editors was stationed at his or her desk, marking last-minute changes in the copy. Penny sat at a table in the front of the room, talking with Mr. Collins about the upcoming issue.

Elizabeth walked in with her latest “Eyes and Ears” column and waited until the faculty adviser was finished before approaching the
Oracle's
editor. “Excuse me, Penny, I have something for you.”

Penny grabbed a tissue and blew her nose. “Sorry. This cold is dragging on forever.” Quickly she looked over the pages Elizabeth had dropped on her desk. “Great. By the way, I didn't have a chance to tell you before, but last week's column was very good—as usual.”

This was the opening Elizabeth was waiting for. “The part I wrote, or the part you slipped in without telling me?”

“What part, Liz?”

Elizabeth felt her patience wearing thin. “Don't play games with me, too, Penny. You're not like that.”

“And you're not the type to go around accusing someone,” Penny shot back, reaching for another tissue. “Would you mind telling me what you're talking about?”

“You really don't know?” Elizabeth pulled up a chair and sat down. “Someone added an item to my column after I handed it in. Everyone around here denied doing it, so I assumed it must have been you. I'm sorry if I'm wrong.”

“Apologies accepted.” Penny sneezed. “Excuse me. I never tamper with other people's copy without good reason … and certainly not without telling them first. What's got you so upset?”

Elizabeth showed her the item about Bruce's road rally win. Penny put it down and laughed. “You ought to know better than to think I'd give that creep any excess publicity.… But I know someone who would.” Turning toward the back of the room, she shouted as loudly as her hoarse voice would allow. “John Pfeifer. Up here now!”

The sports editor squeezed his broad frame around a few empty chairs to the front desk. “What can I do for you, chief?” he asked good-naturedly.

“John,” Penny began, “let's get right to the point. Why did you tell me Liz wanted this item about Bruce Patman put into her column?”

John looked at Penny, then at Elizabeth, then at the floor. He was caught in a lie, and there was no way out but the truth. “Bruce is always getting on my case about not featuring him enough in the paper, so I thought I'd do him a favor and drop this in. I didn't have any more room on the sports page, and I didn't think Liz would mind.”

“Well, I did,” Elizabeth said.

John smiled ruefully. “So did Bruce, as it turned out. He had a fit when he read that.” He turned to Penny. “Are you through with me now?”

“For the moment.”

“John, wait a minute.” Elizabeth pulled him over to the wall next to the blackboard. “You say Bruce was the one driving his car?”

“Of course. You don't think he'd let anyone else behind the wheel, do you?”

Elizabeth had doubted that he would, but John had confirmed her secret fear. “Was anyone in the car with him?” She almost hated to hear the answer.

“Yes, his navigator.”

“Who was it?” Elizabeth pressed on.

John suspected he'd said too much. He looked at the floor again. “I—I don't know.”

“You don't know—or you can't tell me? Which is it, John?”

There was a long moment before he slowly raised his eyes to meet Elizabeth's. “I—I can't tell you,” he admitted.

“Thanks, John.” Elizabeth heaved a sigh. “That's all I needed to know.”

*   *   *

Elizabeth went over the conversation with John a hundred times in her head as she sat in her room that evening. Actually it was what John hadn't said that had her so concerned. She had assumed all along that Bruce was at that road rally, no matter what he had told Jessica. But she hadn't considered the possibility that he was there with someone else. She had no idea who it might be, but from John's reluctance to talk, she was sure it was another girl.

The road rally incident was her proof that she'd been right all along, that Bruce was indeed not to be trusted. Though she'd hoped for something like this to happen, her unhappiness was overwhelming. It would only be a matter of time before Jessica learned the truth about her beloved Bruce. And when she fell, she was going to fall very hard.

Elizabeth tried to think of a way to save her sister from that hurt, but realized she was the wrong one to break the news. Not only wouldn't Jessica believe her, but if Elizabeth dared suggest that Bruce was less than the god Jessica thought he was, her sister was certain to shut her out of her life again.

A knock on Elizabeth's door interrupted her thoughts. “Liz, may I come in?”

Jessica. Elizabeth couldn't help but smile at the irony. Before Bruce came along, Jessica never thought of knocking first, though Elizabeth had often asked her to. “Sure, the door's open.”

She had a dress over one arm. “Look what I bought today.” She held it up. It was a black crepe de chine dress with a low-cut front and back. “Isn't it beautiful?”

“Very sophisticated. What's the occasion?”

“Just the biggest night of the year. Bruce's birthday, next weekend. Liz, it's going to be soooo special,” Jessica cooed.

“With that dress, I wouldn't be surprised.”

“Bruce promised me a night to remember. Just the two of us. We'll be starting off with a very quiet, very intimate dinner at the country club. And then after that—who knows?”

“What?” Elizabeth gasped. She'd known for days that Bruce had invited half the school to a big bash in his honor at the country club. She also knew that he'd asked that it be a surprise for Jessica; a special, secret treat. Elizabeth had been astonished that Bruce was going out of his way to have Jessica share in his birthday glory. Now she realized the little bit of credit she'd given him was too much. This was just the easiest way for Bruce to back out of his promise for an intimate evening for two—by simply not telling Jessica until it was too late. Jessica was sure to find out—and then what? It was beyond belief that he could promise her sister a romantic night alone and then spring a cast of thousands on her.

“Oh, I know you're surprised,” Jessica said, misinterpreting her sister's stunned expression. “You've probably been thinking that since Bruce and I haven't been seeing each other every night, we'd sort of cooled off. But just the opposite has happened. In fact”—her eyes widened—“I have a feeling Bruce wants to get more serious with me.”

“I don't believe it.”

“Believe what you will,” Jessica said. “But wait and see. He said he has a big surprise planned for me—and I can't wait.”

Elizabeth had the dreadful feeling that Bruce's surprise was going to lead to Jessica's heartbreak. “Jess, there's something I—”

Elizabeth was cut short by another knock on the door. “Come on in,” Jessica called. “It's open.”

It was Cara. “Hope you don't mind my barging in, Liz.”

“Of course she doesn't,” Jessica cut in. “You're just in time to see the dress I got for Bruce's birthday.” She held it up against her body.

“It's beautiful,” Cara said. “Bruce'll love it.” She gave her friend a big hug.

Jessica was pleased with Cara's reaction. “We'll leave you alone with your books, Liz. Cara and I are going downstairs. She's going to help me figure out how to make a very special birthday cake for a very special boy.”

It's just as well I kept my mouth shut,
Elizabeth thought after they left.
Jessica would never have believed me.

*   *   *

How could he do this to me!
Jessica fumed inwardly. Never had anyone humiliated her so deeply. And she had gone to so much trouble to make sure that everything would go smoothly.

All through chemistry class she glared at the big red F and the words “See me” scrawled across the top of her last test. Totally ignoring Mr. Russo's lecture on solubility, she tried to figure out what had gone wrong. The plan had been so perfect. Emily had done her part, right down to giving Jessica the thumbs-up sign right before the test. That left only one other possibility: Robin had messed up the papers when she had swiped the test and left a trail of evidence a mile wide. Jessica sighed in disgust. She knew she shouldn't have trusted Robin with such a serious mission. That girl couldn't do anything right.

There was only one thing Jessica could do—tell Russo that Robin had stolen the test. But right before class ended, she realized she couldn't do that. Not if she wanted Bruce. Once Robin's back was to the wall, Jessica was sure she'd blab everything to Russo, including Bruce's part in the plan.

And if that happened, Jessica concluded, Bruce would never forgive her.

For once in her life she saw no way out of her predicament but the truth—at least partially. She would say she got the answers by looking at Emily's test paper. Steeling herself to accept her punishment, she went up to the chemistry teacher after class, meekly putting the test paper on his desk. “I'd like to explain, Mr. Russo.”

“You failed the test, Jessica,” he said sternly. “There is no explanation for lack of preparation. Not in this class.”

Jessica pursed her lips. “You're right, Mr. Russo,” she began apologetically. “I never should have thought I could have gotten away with it. I—”

“There's no excuse for not studying, Jessica,” Mr. Russo lectured. “This is the second test in a row you've failed. If your grades don't pick up in a big way, you're looking at an F for the entire term.”

Jessica couldn't believe her ears. Russo didn't know she'd copied the answers from Emily. Still appropriately apologetic, she changed gears, opting for another version of the truth. “I want to do well in chemistry, really I do, but I have so much trouble understanding it. And I feel a lot of pressure from home, too. My parents really want me to succeed.”

“If you were having trouble, you should have come to me for help earlier. There's still time for you to pass the course, but it's going to take a lot of work. You'll have to pass the rest of the tests this term and do several special assignments. Come see me after class tomorrow and I'll have them ready for you.”

Outside in the hallway a few minutes later, Jessica caught up with Emily. Pinning the petite girl up against the cinder-block wall, she looked down at her and hissed, “You double-crossed me, Mayer.”

“No, I didn't, Jessica,” Emily said defiantly. “And if you don't believe me, go ahead and tell Russo I had the test if you want. But it won't make a difference. He already knows.”

Jessica's eyes nearly popped out. “He does?”

“You don't have to worry. I didn't tell him about you—and I won't. But I couldn't live with having cheated, so I told him. He yelled a lot and gave me detention and a pile of special assignments—but crazy as it sounds, I feel relieved.”

“That still doesn't explain why I flunked. What happened?”

“I didn't do well, either. At the last minute, Russo made some changes in the test and printed up a whole new batch of them. He said this test was too much like last year's. If you ask me, Jessica, you're lucky he didn't notice you made the same mistakes I made.”

Even though she realized she'd gotten off easy, Jessica was still furious at lunchtime as she headed for the cafeteria. She was no better off now than she'd been when she'd first schemed to get the test answers, and now she had a pile of work to do on top of everything else. This wasn't the way it was supposed to turn out.

Only Bruce could tear her mind away from this predicament, and Jessica found him sitting at a table on the patio with his tennis teammates, Tom McKay and John Pfeifer. She could hear him leading the laughter. Bruce had been grouchy when he had spoken with her the night before, and she was glad to see he was in better spirits.

Walking softly so Bruce wouldn't hear her, Jessica made her way to the table, stopping directly behind him. Putting her tray down on a nearby table, she reached over his neck and gave him a big hug. “Hi, there,” she purred.

Bruce nonchalantly released her grip on him. “Not now, babe. So, John,” he continued as if she weren't there, “I'm behind this guy fifteen-forty, and he's sure he's going to get me on my next serve. But I'm not going to let him get away with it, so I blow him off the court with three straight aces. You should have seen his face!”

“Bruce, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Can't it wait, Jess? I'm busy.”

“But, Bruce! It's about chemistry and—”

“You still hung up on that junk, Jess? I'm bored with it.” Abruptly he turned back to his friends. “So then it's his turn to serve, and he's real nervous now.…”

Jessica didn't hear the rest of what Bruce was saying. Her mind was too focused on the anger rising inside her. She was sure, had the situation been reversed, she would have listened sympathetically to Bruce's problem. Still, she insisted to herself in an effort to calm down, she
did
interrupt his conversation. That in itself
was
rude. But her anger returned moments later in full force. It was rude, but
not that
rude. Swiftly, Jessica turned to face Bruce with her fury, but one long look at his rugged, handsome face and she chose to contain herself.
I'll get over it,
she thought, sighing.
I hope.