Secrets (6 page)

The next day Elizabeth broke down and confided in Mr. Collins. Besides being the faculty adviser for
The Oracle,
Roger Collins had become a sort of unofficial "Dear Abby" to the kids who worked with him. Of course, he resembled anyone
but
Abby--more like a taller Robert Redford, Elizabeth thought, with his crinkly blue eyes and ruggedly handsome features. Sometimes it was hard to keep her mind on what she was saying when she talked to him.

"Mmm, sounds like you've got a bit of a mystery on your hands," he said. "Seems to me the first step you have to take is figuring out why someone would want to tell Ronnie about those letters."

"Motivation, right?" Elizabeth's writer's mind

clicked into gear. "The trouble is, nobody else knew about those letters besides me."

"That's what Enid thinks. But somebody else must have known. What about this boy she was exchanging these letters with? Does he have any friends here at school?"

Elizabeth thought for a moment. "I suppose he could have told Winston Egbert." She knew they'd been friends from the age of about five, though Winston had kept far away from the trouble George had gotten himself into.

"It's a possibility. But even if Winston did know, I can't think of why he would have told Ronnie."

Mr. Collins smiled. "I'm sure he wouldn't have said anything to be malicious, but sometimes people tell secrets just to get attention."

Winston did have a tendency to be a blabbermouth, Elizabeth thought, but he would have had to go out of his way to tell Ronnie, someone he wasn't even friends with, about the letters. Still, she had to admit it was the best possibility so far.

"I suppose I could ask him," she said.

"That's using your head." Mr. Collins winked at her as if she'd thought it up all on her own. "I'm sure it'll turn out one way or another, Liz. Enid's hurting right now, and when people are hurt, they want someone to lash out at. Often it's someone they love."

"Why is that?"

"Because the people we love, who love us, are the ones who will forgive us later on when it all blows over."

Elizabeth looked at him, a slow smile flickering across her features. "How did you get to be so smart, Mr. Collins?"

He shrugged. "Remember, I've been around a few more years than you."

"Yes, Grandpa," she teased.

"Not
that
long." He laughed. "I've got a way to go yet before they put me out to pasture. Besides, how would all you goof-offs get along without me to crack the whip over you?"

"We'd probably turn this paper into
The National Enquirer,"
Olivia interjected as she sailed past, bearing an armload of letters she'd collected from the box outside their office. "Honestly, you should
see
some of this garbage!"

Mr. Collins's expression darkened as he examined a few of the letters she'd dumped on his desk.
"This,"
he said, jabbing his finger at an offending note, "is what I call malicious gossip. The worst kind, since it's totally unfounded. I spoke with Nora Dalton this morning in the teachers' lounge, and I can tell you she's pretty upset about all this talk. She's actually made herself sick over it. In fact, she looked so bad, I talked her into going home and getting some rest."

"I heard she even got some obscene phone calls at her apartment," Olivia said. "Gosh, I

don't know what I'd do if it were me. How does she stand it?"

"The best way she knows how--by not giving it more credence than it deserves. I think we should all do the same." With one swoop, he swept the letters into the trash can.

Everyone suspected that Mr. Collins had a special interest in the pretty Ms. Dalton, so he had double the reason to be disturbed over what was happening. At least
he
trusted her, though, Elizabeth thought.

"I wonder how Kenny's taking it," she mused aloud.

"Nobody seems to know," Olivia answered. "He's been absent the past couple of days. There's a nasty rumor that he got mononucleosis from k--"

"That's enough!" In a rare show of temper, Mr. Collins slammed a book down on his desk. "Haven't you two got anything better to do than talk about this thing?"

Elizabeth blushed. Mr. Collins was right--the best way to deal with gossip was just to ignore it. But that was easier said than done when you were on the receiving end. Her heart went out to both Ms. Dalton and Enid. She knew only too well what it was like having conversations end abruptly when you walked into a room, having people look at you as if you'd just sprouted another head or something. People had treated her like that when Jessica had been

picked up at an off-limits bar during a wild brawl--and had let the police believe she was Elizabeth. The next day everyone at school was smirking behind her back. Elizabeth would never forget what a miserable time that had been.

She went back to the "Eyes and Ears" column she was working on. News about the upcoming dance. A story about Winston Egbert and his wrong turn down a one-way street during drivers' ed. Thinking of Winston, her mind flashed to the last line from George's letter:

P.P.S. Say hi to my buddy Winston.

Was Winston really such a good buddy? Elizabeth was determined to find out.

"Sure, Liz, I knew George had been writing to Enid." Winston sat hunched on the bleachers, watching basketball practice. "But I never thought it was any big deal. You know, like he and Enid were--were--uh--"

"I get the message, Win. You knew that Enid and George were just friends, right? That Enid was only trying to help George?"

"Yeah, that's it." He relaxed. Underneath all his clowning, Winston was really very shy.

She took a deep breath. "Win, did you by any chance tell Ronnie Edwards about the letters?"

Winston shot her a startled look, "Why would I do a thing like that? I hardly even know Ronnie.

What's he got to do with it, anyway?" He turned his attention back to the court. "Hey, check out that drive shot. Way to go, Wilkins!" he bellowed down to Todd, who flashed him a grin and blew Elizabeth a kiss. Even with his shirt stuck to his chest in sweaty patches, Todd looked beautiful to Elizabeth.

"The thing is," she pressed on,
"someone
told Ronnie about the letters, and Enid thinks it was me."

"Gosh, Liz, that's awful!"

She sighed. "Tell me about it."

"What're you going to do?"

"What I'm trying to do is find out who's responsible."

"You don't really think it was me, do you?"

"I didn't think you'd do it to be mean, Win. I just thought maybe you'd let it slip out by accident or something."

"Nope. I promised George I wouldn't. He figured Enid wouldn't want anyone to know. I mean, she's so straight now and everything. Anyway, George is a good guy. He's really changed. I can't wait to see him when he gets back."

"It sounds like he really cares about Enid."

"Sure he does. What're friends for? Anyhow, in my book a friend isn't someone who blabs a secret all over the place. I know everyone thinks I have a big mouth, but I know how to keep it shut when it counts."

Elizabeth looked at Winston with new respect. She realized she was seeing a side of him that few people were lucky enough to glimpse. It was too bad Jessica didn't see him as the sensitive, honorable person he was, instead of just a nerd who had a crush on her. In Elizabeth's opinion Winston was far superior to that stuck-up Bruce Patman, who roared around in that flashy car of his and acted generally obnoxious.

"I believe you, Win," she said, leaning over to plant a kiss on his cheek.

"Hey, watch it, Egbert!" Todd yelled good-naturedly from his position under the basket. "That's my girl!"

Elizabeth couldn't help thinking that if Winston got any redder, they'd have to paint a white line in front of him and use him as a stop sign.

Todd reached across the table at the Dairi Burger to lace his fingers through Elizabeth's.

"Hey," he said, "you don't look too happy for someone who's going to the dance tonight with the most fantastic guy on the West Coast."

She forced a weak smile. "Burt Reynolds is taking me to the dance?"

Todd laughed. "That's what I like about you, Liz. Even when you're down, you can always smile."

"That's me, all right--smiling on the outside, crying on the inside." Her smile wilted even as she spoke. "Oh, Todd, what am I going to do? I've tried everything, and Enid still won't speak to me."

The day before, she'd gone over to Enid's

house after school, hoping to catch her alone so that Enid wouldn't be able to run away from her. But she hadn't even gotten past the front door. Enid's mother explained that Enid wasn't feeling well and didn't want any visitors. Visitors! Since when had she been just a visitor? She had turned away in tears, so blinded by her hurt that she nearly collided with Enid's little brother as he came barreling up the front drive on his bicycle.

"You've done what you could," said Todd. "If she doesn't want to believe you're innocent, there's not much you can do."

"Something's wrong, Todd. This just isn't like Enid. She's never stayed mad at me for this long before. If I didn't know better, I'd swear someone was feeding her lies about me. But who would want to do a terrible thing like that?"

Todd shrugged as he stuffed a French fry into his mouth. "Anyone who's really your friend wouldn't believe a bunch of lies--not for long, anyway. If Enid really cares about you, she'll come around."

Elizabeth sighed. "I just hope you're right, Todd. Jess says I'm better off without her, but I really miss her."

"I wouldn't exactly call your sister the world's foremost expert on friendship," said Todd. "Look at what she almost did to us."

He was referring to the way in which Jessica

had manipulated him into thinking Elizabeth didn't care for him, and vice versa. Among other things, Jessica had led him to believe her sister was too busy dating other boys to bother with him. She'd told Elizabeth a story about Todd attacking her, when all he'd done was reluctantly kiss her on the cheek. Todd trusted Jessica about as far as he could throw her.

Elizabeth defended her twin. "Jessica means well. It really is nice of her to want to help Enid."

"I'm not so sure," Todd warned. "Anyway, you should go by your own instincts about Enid, not listen to Jessica."

"I'm not sure I can trust them anymore. This whole thing has gotten me so mixed up I can hardly see straight."

"As long as you can see your way straight to going to the dance with me tonight, you're in good shape. Just forget about all this for one night and have a good time, OK?"

"I wish it were that easy. I wish I didn't feel so guilty about having a good time when I know Enid will be sitting home feeling miserable. I mean, I know it's not my fault or anything, but I feel bad anyway."

"I know what you mean," he said. "It's like the time when I was a little kid and my brother got sick on Halloween, and he had to stay in bed while I went trick-or-treating. Somehow it just wasn't the same. Part of me felt like I should

have stayed home, too." He grinned. "It worked out for him, though, because I ended up giving him most of my candy."

"I'm glad you understand, Todd." She squeezed his hand. "I hope I don't act too depressed tonight."

"Goes to show how well you know my tastes," he said, brown eyes flashing. "I happen to love depressed blondes."

"Thanks a lot!"

Elizabeth blew a straw wrapper at him, starting a war that quickly escalated and ended up with Todd the victor--thirteen wrappers to her eight.

Out in the parking lot he slid his arms around her, dropping a kiss on her upturned mouth. He tasted salty-sweet, a combination of French fries and vanilla milkshake. Todd's kisses were one of the things Elizabeth loved best about him. They were like Todd himself--firm, but so gentle....

She wished she could stay this way, wrapped in his arms forever.

"Mom says that if we don't get our rooms clean, we're not going to the dance!" Jessica attacked Elizabeth with the news as she walked in through the door. "Can you believe it? It's positively
medieval.
I feel like Cinderella!"

Elizabeth shrugged. "So what's the big deal?

We've got plenty of time before we have to start getting ready."

"Easy for you to say. Your room is already so disgustingly neat. It'll take me a hundred and thirty-seven years to clean up
mine,"
she wailed. "It's so unfair. Who cares what my room looks like? Nobody ever goes in it except me."

"And that's hardly ever," said Elizabeth. "You spend most of your time in my room, making a mess of it, too. Honestly, Jess, a person is entitled to a little privacy, you know."

"Mmmm," Jessica murmured, shooting her sister an oddly sheepish look.

She'd been acting strangely secretive these past few days, Elizabeth thought, wondering what she was up to. With Jessica, you never knew.

While Jessica disappeared into the Hershey Bar, Elizabeth set about straightening the few items that were out of place in her room. Mostly that meant books and papers. She was always scribbling something or other, and consequently there were notebooks and typewritten pages strewn about the floor. As she stooped to pick up some paper, she caught sight of a piece of pale blue stationery barely visible under the bed.

One of George's letters! She realized it must have been there all along and felt a sick, plummeting sensation in her

stomach. Anyone could have come along and seen it. No, not just
anyone.

Only one person in this house besides their mother would have gone into her room. Jessica.

Suddenly it was all horribly clear. She was certain her sister had read the letter and told Ronnie about it. That would explain the strange mood Jessica had been in for the last week. Elizabeth knew her twin well enough to have a pretty good idea why she'd told, too. Nothing or nobody was going to stand in the way of Jessica getting crowned queen. Including Enid.

Trembling with rage, she folded the letter and tucked it away in a drawer. She was so furious with Jessica at this moment that she could have strangled her.