Authors: Francine Pascal
Without really thinking, Steven turned also and followed the car. Only then did he notice that there was someone else in the car with his father.
Marianna West!
Steven didn't know what to do. He certainly hadn't planned to spy on his father. But there he was, following his father and Marianna-- and wondering what in heaven's name was going on. It was too late, he realized, for them to be coming home from work.
The LTD began to slow down.
Steven slowed down, too. He couldn't pass them now. He slid his car into the shadows of a hedge along the drive and parked there.
The LTD pulled into a driveway and stopped. Marianna West got out. So did Steven's father. They were laughing together about something as they walked toward Marianna's white- shuttered house.
"Oh, no." Steven moaned. He didn't want to believe it, but the evidence was too glaring to ignore.
He sat in the car for a long time, waiting for his father to come out. He listened to at least a dozen songs on the radio, without hearing any of the music, before he finally gave up and
drove home. Everyone was asleep when he got there.
Steven paused outside his parents' bedroom door on his way upstairs. The lights were off, so he knew his mother wasn't sitting up worrying. Poor Mom, he thought, if she only knew . . .
Steven crawled into bed, but he didn't want to go to sleep. He wanted to be awake when his father arrived home--if he came home at all.
Fourteen
Elizabeth couldn't remember a time when life had been such a mess. Everything was in a shambles. Her father was chasing around after another woman, and her mother was blind to it. The money-grubbing Fowlers were grabbing the Sweet Valley High Gladiators' football field away from them just when they had a really terrific team. And who was trying to stop the Fowlers? The Patmans, who were just as bad--a formal English garden! The whole disgusting mess was now in the courts, which only threw her father and that woman lawyer, Marianna West, together even more.
And to top it off, Todd Wilkins had turned out to be practically as bad as Rick Andover. Elizabeth couldn't stop thinking about it, and every time she did, her stomach turned. How
could Todd do such a thing! At the same time, she could never quite picture him doing it. She believed Jessica--after all, why would she lie about such a thing?--but the image simply refused to come.
Elizabeth had never been so miserable, but she supposed it didn't matter anymore. Jessica was through with Todd--and so was she. Furthermore, Todd was waltzing around Sweet Valley High as though nothing had happened. It was obvious he didn't even care!
And yet Elizabeth was astounded to notice that Todd was watching her. Every class they had together, she could feel his eyes on her.
When they passed in the corridors, when they bumped into each other in the cafeteria, Todd tried to engage her in conversation as though they were still friends.
"Hey, Liz," he said after history one morning, "how about getting something to eat after school?"
"I'm busy," she snapped, ignoring the hurt look on Todd's face.
In Mr. Russo's class he slipped her a note: 'Meet me in front of the columns after school."
Elizabeth didn't bother to keep that appointment.
But he wouldn't stop pestering her. Every day Todd tried to corner her on the stairs or stop her in the hall. She brushed him off, but it only made her feel worse.
Even when Mr. Collins came over to her desk in the Oracle office and praised her for the story she had done on the football field crisis, she didn't feel much better.
"That was a really professional job," Mr. Collins said.
"Thanks."
"Want to talk about it?" he asked, leaning on the edge of the desk. He had a concerned expression on his face.
Elizabeth managed to smile. "I'm sorry, Mr. Collins. Things haven't exactly been going my way lately."
"Do you think you're up to covering the rest of the football field story for The Oracle?"
"Of course. What's next?"
"It's a court case now. You'll have to go down to the courthouse. Your father is handling it, I know, so you'll have to be careful to remain objective."
"I will, Mr. Collins, don't worry."
"Try not to jump to any conclusions. And don't prejudice the case. You can't be a fair reporter if you do. Remember, you have to have all the facts first."
"OK."
"What's her name--Ms. West--isn't she in on this, too?"
"Yes," Elizabeth said softly. Oh, isn't she, though!
"All right. Be in Superior Court at nine-thirty on Tuesday, and good luck."
The thought of having to watch her father and "that woman" working together in the courtroom only succeeded in making Elizabeth feel even more miserable. The telephone call the next night from Todd Wilkins did nothing to cheer her up, either.
"Liz?"
"Yes."
"It's Todd."
"What do you want!"
"Liz, something strange is going on."
"Nothing strange is going to go on between you and me, Todd Wilkins. So just get that straight."
"Would you mind making sense?" he said angrily.
"Why do you keep bothering us?"
"Us?"
"Jessica and me! Don't you realize we're not what you seem to think?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Oh, you know very well!"
"I do not!"
"Well, what do you want with me, Mr. Wilkins?"
"I've been trying to get you to meet me so I could tell you something, Miss Wakefield!"
"Oh?"
"I mean, well, I just wanted to tell you that I was wrong about something."
Elizabeth felt herself listening intently. If only he could explain things, she thought hopefully. If only there was a way to make things right. Even if he said he was sorry for what happened, that might help some.
"What is it, Todd?" she asked, her voice softening.
"Well, see, I just wanted to say that--well, people make mistakes. I know that. People do things without realizing it, and then they're sorry. And you can't hold it against them forever! It's not fair."
No, Elizabeth thought. That was true.
If Todd apologized for what he tried to do to Jessica, that wouldn't make it all right, exactly. But it would make her at least stop hating him some.
"I just want to apologize, Liz, for the way I've been acting."
"Well, Todd, it really did surprise me. You have no idea how shocked I was."
"Well, can you blame me, Liz? I've cooled down some now, but it took me a lot to be willing to forgive you."
Elizabeth's head spun wildly, trying to make sense of what he was saying.
"Forgive me?"
"But I do," he said hurriedly. "I forgive you on the condition that you promise not to see that creep again."
"What creep?"
"Aw, Liz, you know--Rick Andover."
"You still believe that?"
"Everybody knows it."
"Didn't Jessica talk to you?"
"Oh, sure. She's as loyal as the day is long, Liz. She tried to take the blame for you. It was really wonderful of her. But I want you to know it's all right. You made a mistake--it's over. I'm willing to forget about it."
"You're willing--?" Elizabeth felt she was going to explode. "Just forget it, Todd."
"Huh?"
"Don't do me any favors."
"Elizabeth, I'm trying to keep my cool. But this is getting to me."
"Isn't that too bad."
"Liz, listen. How about seeing me tonight? Maybe we can talk this out."
"See you tonight? You have nerve! After what you did! Todd, let's get this straight once and for all. I never want to speak to you again!"
Elizabeth slammed down the phone and cried for an hour. But at least it was finally, totally, absolutely finished. Forever!
Fifteen
The courthouse in downtown Sweet Valley was a fine, sprawling Colonial-style building. Elizabeth felt a little overwhelmed when she walked in and was directed to the press room.
"You mean reporters have their own room in the courthouse?" she asked the man in the information booth.
"Yes, young lady. Right down the hall, third door on the left."
Elizabeth walked hesitantly to the press room and peeked inside. There were large desks around the walls, most of them piled high with newspapers and stacks of official-looking court papers. A few reporters were there, too. Maybe someday I'll work here, Elizabeth thought.
Mr. Collins had told her to find Eric Garnet, a
reporter he knew who worked for The Sweet Valley News.
"Hello, Mr. Garnet," she said shyly.
"Ah, yes--the Barbara Walters of Sweet Valley High, I believe," Eric Garnet said and smiled.
Elizabeth smiled and blushed. "Not exactly."
"So, what can I do for you?"
"I'm here to cover the football field story."
"The what?"
Elizabeth felt her face reddening again. She checked her notebook. "Oh, I mean, Fowler versus the Board of Education."
He directed her to the second floor and wished her luck.
As she walked into the courtroom, Elizabeth noticed Coach Schultz and the principal, Mr. Cooper, sitting in the spectators section. Judge Robert Daly was already on the bench, wearing his black robes and looking stern and dignified.
There was George Fowler, sitting at a table with several lawyers in dark suits. He looked rather sinister and very determined. And at another table up near the judge's bench was her father and his assistant, Marianna West.
Elizabeth felt an icy stab of anger go through her at the sight of Marianna. Her father was being so attentive, leaning over with his head next to hers, whispering heaven knows what into her ear. If her mother saw that, she would die!
At a third table were Henry Wilson Patman and two more lawyers. Altogether, there were enough lawyers in the courtroom to sue everyone in the state of California.
"Are both sides ready for oral argument in this proceeding?" the judge asked, looking up from a stack of legal briefs he'd been reading.
"Ready, Your Honor," piped Marianna West before any of the others had spoken.
Elizabeth glared at Marianna West. That pushy creature didn't even let her father--a partner in the law firm--speak up; she jumped right in!
Elizabeth had little time to simmer about it, though, because one after another the lawyers started talking, throwing around long legal words that left her bewildered.
First, one of George Fowler's blue-suited lawyers got up and delivered a towering speech about how the Fowlers were entitled to the football field property because the lease held by the Sweet Valley Board of Education had lapsed and had not been renewed.
Then one of Henry Patman's lawyers got up and delivered an even more impassioned speech about how a factory would deface Sweet Valley with smoke and pollution, and insisted the public had an interest in the matter.
Elizabeth felt her spirits falling as she listened to both convincing-sounding arguments. Still, she thought, her father hadn't spoken yet. He
was a wonderful lawyer. Maybe he could save the field for Sweet Valley High.
Elizabeth was stunned to see Marianna West rise to speak for the high school instead.
Marianna straightened the legal papers on the table in front of her, then began to speak. She addressed the courtroom in a clear, strong voice, arguing eloquently that the football field was "the heart" of Sweet Valley High as surely as the school building was its "mind."
Elizabeth scribbled frantically, trying to keep up with Marianna's powerful argument. She seemed to know everything about the matter, all right. Her father must have told her every detail.
Nevertheless, Elizabeth couldn't help admiring the ease with which Marianna had handled a difficult situation. She found herself writing in her notebook: "Ms. West was very impressive in marshaling the arguments for Sweet Valley High."
Elizabeth had begun to question her suspicions about Marianna West when the judge called a recess and the court retired to await his decision. She spotted her father in the corridor and rushed over to speak with him. She froze when she noticed that he had his arm slung around Marianna's shoulders. In front of everyone! What was going on? When Ned Wakefield walked over and
introduced the two of them, Elizabeth could scarcely find her voice. Fortunately, Marianna didn't notice. She was all smiles, bubbling over with her success in the courtroom. She greeted Elizabeth warmly.
"Ned told me what beautiful daughters he had," she said, "but I had no idea . . ."
Elizabeth blushed, overcome with confusion. Marianna was no phony. She was even someone Elizabeth felt she could like--a thought that made her feel traitorous toward her mother.
The bailiff stuck his head out the courtroom door and announced that the judge was back on the bench. They all filed back in and took their places. Elizabeth felt as if the entire room were holding its breath as they waited for him to announce his decision.
Amid a nearly unintelligible babble of legal jargon, the last part of what the judge was saying rang clear as a bell: "Petitions by George Fowler and Henry Patman are denied. The property shall be leased to the Sweet Valley Board of Education."
Coach Schultz, who was seated next to Chrome Dome Cooper, leaped to his feet and yelled, "Yea, Sweet Valley!"
Nobody heard the clerk calling for order in the ensuing din of cheers and excited conversation. Nobody noticed, except Elizabeth,
as the Fowler and Patman entourages slunk out of the courtroom in sour-faced defeat.
Mr. Cooper and Coach Schultz drove Elizabeth back to the high school, where she was trailed down the corridors by Ken Matthews and the whole Gladiator football team. "It's OK," she yelled. "We won!" And then the entire backfield hoisted Elizabeth onto their shoulders and paraded her outside, down the steps, around the school, up the ramp, and through the cafeteria.
Afterward, as she wrote the story, kids kept dashing in to ask for more details. "Did your father save us?"
"He was there, but Marianna West did the talking."