SVH09-Racing Hearts (2 page)

Jessica directed her piercing aquamarine stare toward her friend. "If you think I'm upset over Bill Chase, you're wrong, Lila. I'm sure he and DeeDee will make a lovely couple."

"My, my, aren't we bighearted this morning. Are you sure the rain hasn't made your brain soggy?" Lila asked. "A week ago you weren't in such a forgiving mood."

"Well, that was then and this is now. Besides, what's wrong with wishing someone a little

\

happiness?" Jessica replied, her voice pure sweetness and light.

"Nothing. Nothing at all," Lila said. She was still unconvinced about Jessica's sincerity, but realizing she was getting nowhere, she changed the subject. "I wonder who we'll see at the Dairi Burger this afternoon."

"What makes you so sure I'll even be there?" Jessica asked.

"Where else would you go when it's too wet for the beach?"

"There are other places in Sweet Valley besides the Dairi Burger and the beach," Jessica reminded Lila.

"I see." Lila shook her head in that all-knowing way of hers. "You've already struck again. No wonder you're feeling so generous about Bill. Who's the lucky guy?"

"It has nothing to do with guys, Lila." Jessica took out her chemistry and French notebooks and slammed the door of her locker with her foot. "After school I begin my first day of work at my father's law office."

That was the last thing Lila had expected to hear.
"Work? Why?
Why on earth would you do that?"

"I know the concept of working is alien to you, Lila, but some people
do
enjoy it. I've decided I'd like to follow in my father's footsteps and become a lawyer, and there's no better time than now to start."

"But after school? What about your social life?" Lila shook her head in disbelief.

"Dad's office closes at six. That still leaves plenty of time for my social life," Jessica explained. "Though I don't know how much dating I'll be doing for a while. I think I'd like to hold back until I see how the work goes."

Lila had to remind herself that this was Jessica she was talking to, not Elizabeth. "You're still going to the Bart dance next week, aren't you? I can't believe you'd want to miss that."

The dance was a big event on the Sweet Valley High social scene. It followed the annual running of the Barton Ames Memorial Mile, a very prestigious interscholastic race known informally as the Bart. "I'll be there," Jessica said. She began to walk slowly down the long corridor toward the classrooms. The hall was unusually messy, spotted with puddles and dirt brought in by rain-soaked students.

Lila avoided a streak of mud on the floor and fell in step beside Jessica. "I'll be there, too. But I'm not going to settle for just anyone."

"How about me, Lila?" asked Aaron Dallas, who came up behind them. The trio paused beside a row of lockers. "Didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I don't have a date yet and--"

"No, thanks, Aaron. I'm not
that
desperate," Lila teased. She gave the popular co-captain of the soccer team a playful shove. Lila had tried dating Aaron back in junior high, but there

hadn't been any chemistry. They had remained friends, however.

"Your loss, Lila," Aaron said good-naturedly. "Listen, I'd love to stay and talk, but I promised Bruce I'd go over our history assignment before class."

"Knowing Bruce Patman, he's probably going to make Aaron give him his homework," Jessica remarked caustically as Aaron walked off. She watched him as he disappeared down the corridor, swerving out of the way of Roger Barrett, who was running at full speed toward the locker area.

Lila snickered and pointed down the hallway. "Oops, don't look now, but here comes Bugs Bunny."

Just as Jessica caught sight of him, Roger stepped in a puddle and lost his footing. He slid about ten feet and landed on his backside on the wet floor, right in front of the girls. His books went flying in a semicircle around him, and his unfashionable, thick-framed glasses tilted at an odd angle on his square-jawed face.

It took all of Jessica's acting skills to hold back her giggles. The boy was a pathetic sight. His long legs stuck out of the cheap-looking jeans he wore, revealing his frayed white crew socks and well-worn sneakers. The force of his fall had caused his flannel shirt to open at the bottom, exposing a pale stomach that clearly hadn't seen the sun in years. As he got up, he

looked as if he couldn't decide whether to tend to his shirt first or to get his books before they were trampled by students on their way to class. His hesitation only heightened his clumsy appearance--and made Jessica's giggles harder to suppress.

Lila was only slightly more composed as she quipped, "Hey, what's up, doc?"

For the first time Roger noticed his audience. Lila Fowler was absolutely the last girl in the world he wanted to catch him off guard like this. He could feel his face flush with embarrassment, and he quickly closed his shirt and tucked it in. He'd had a crush on Lila for a very long time. Although he knew there was no chance of her caring about him, he'd never given up on the fantasy, even when he had heard her say at a party that she wouldn't dance with him "if he were the last boy on earth." He
still
always tried his best to impress her. This latest act, however, had done nothing to help his cause.

"Excuse me," he mumbled, turning away from her. He picked up his books as fast as he could and raced down the hall to his locker.

Once he was out of earshot, both Jessica and Lila let themselves go. "Do you believe him?" Lila finally sputtered. She'd been laughing so hard that tears had gathered in the corners of her eyes.

"I thought I was going to die," Jessica replied. "I couldn't have held it in too much longer."

"It would have served old Bugs right if we
had
laughed in his face," Lila said nastily.

"Hey, why do you call him Bugs Bunny, anyway?"

" 'Cause he
bugs
me," Lila explained as she and Jessica resumed their walk down the corridor. "The creep's had a crush on me forever, and I'm getting tired of it."

"Lila Fowler scorning the affections of an eligible bachelor?" Jessica said mockingly. Pretending to be serious, she continued. "It
is
getting late, you know. Maybe you ought to let
him
take you to the dance."

Lila sneered. "I'd rather date a fish." Once again she was overcome with giggles.

Jessica wasn't finished. "You're just saying that because he doesn't drive to school in a Ferrari."

"He doesn't drive anything, Jess. I don't even think he takes the school bus!"

Jessica was enjoying pleading Roger's case. When she became a lawyer, she'd have to defend plenty of lost causes like Roger Barrett, and there was no better time than now to begin sharpening her skills. "But, Lila, underneath the glasses and worn clothes is a boy who needs the kind of things a smart girl like you can teach him. Why don't you give the guy a break and go out with him? You know he wants you to."

"Jessica Wakefield, have you lost your mind?

If you think he's so great, go out with him yourself."

Jessica looked at her friend as if she'd suggested drinking Drano. The joke had gone far enough. It was one thing to defend Roger, quite another to date him. "No way, Jose," she said, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

Roger stuffed his books into his locker, cursing himself for losing control in front of Lila.
If
only I hadn't slipped like that,
he thought,
maybe she wouldn't think I was such a fool.

"You look like your cat just died."

Recognizing the voice, Roger turned around and smiled at Olivia Davidson, the arts editor for
The Oracle,
and one of his closest friends in school. "Hi, Liv," he said weakly.

"What's wrong?" Olivia asked.

"I just made a fool of myself in front of Lila Fowler."

"And that's why you have bags under your eyes?"

"Oh, that." Roger dismissed his tired expression with a shrug. "You'd have bags, too, if you were up till three in the morning studying."

"Not again." Olivia's voice was full of sympathy now. "How long is that going to go on, Roger?"

"Probably till I graduate--or at least until I truly understand trigonometry."

"Poor Roger."

Yeah, that's the problem: Roger is poor,
he thought grimly. But he didn't want anyone, even Olivia, to know the truth--that he spent almost all of his after-school hours working as a janitor in a Sweet Valley office building. He'd gone to great pains to convince everyone that he spent all these afternoons studying. In truth, his studying was done when he should have been sleeping.

"Hey, I shouldn't be complaining. If I want to be a doctor, I've got to understand this stuff. I've got to get used to sleepless nights and be prepared to work hard."

Olivia shook her head, letting her untamed curls cascade around her narrow shoulders. "But not too hard," she insisted. "School's supposed to be fun, too."

Maybe for some people,
he thought,
but not when your mother's too sick to hold a steady job and your father's too drunk.
"But what about you, Liv? You work pretty hard. When do you have time for play?"

"All the time. I mean, working at the museum and giving tours and lectures about the artists doesn't seem like work. That job is a dream come true for me--not to mention that it pays for the clothes on my back."

Roger eyed her carefully. "That's a new skirt, isn't it?" He wasn't sure he liked it, but it was in keeping with Olivia's offbeat sense of style.

Olivia proudly showed off the floral print skirt. It was so long it nearly covered her Chinese sandals. "The latest in chic from Martha's Thrift Shop. Goes well with the scarf, don't you think?" She fingered the long strip of faded silk tied loosely around her neck.

"Liv, when are you going to start shopping at the mall like everyone else around here?"

"What? And
be
like everyone else? That's not my style, Roger. I guess that's why I'm arts editor of
The Oracle
and not fashion editor. Speaking of which, I've got to hand my latest column in to Penny. See you later, Roger."

Olivia was already out of sight when the bell rang. Putting his legs into high gear, Roger ran up the stairs to his first class.

Three

Bruce Patman threw his towel against his cubicle in the boys' locker room in disgust. "I don't believe Coach Schultz, making us run in the rain." Droplets of water dripped from his dark hair onto his red and white Sweet Valley running shorts.

"Yeah, I'm glad we were playing inside," said John Pfeifer. He and Todd Wilkins had just finished a one-on-one game of basketball. "But I can understand why the coach would want you to be prepared for the Bart trials tomorrow."

"I hope the skies clear up by then," Bruce said. "Running in the muck is not my idea of a good time."

"Does that mean you're not going to try out for the race if it's raining?" As sports editor for
The Oracle,
John smelled a scoop here. For weeks Bruce had been bragging about how he was going to blow everybody away at the trials.

He'd even gone as far as working out with the track team in addition to running extra laps after school. If he didn't compete now, it would be big news.

"Of course I'm running," Bruce insisted. "I still aim to prove I'm the best athlete in school, certainly better than those clowns on the track team." He looked around quickly to make sure the guys he had just been training with were in the shower and safely out of earshot. "All I meant was that if the track is muddy, I'm not going to get a chance to break four minutes."

"As if you stand a chance of getting anywhere near four minutes," Todd interjected.

Bruce looked at the tall basketball player as if he were a worm. "Hey, Wilkins, you should talk. I don't hear anyone around here calling you speedy."

"At least I don't make any claims to be. You're the only one who seems to think you're a cinch to win the trials--not to mention coming out the big man in the Bart."

Todd wasn't usually so testy; in fact, he was one of the most easygoing students at Sweet Valley. But when he was pushed hard enough, his anger ran deep, and he still had good reason to hold a grudge against Bruce. The smooth- talking Bruce had tried to take advantage of Elizabeth Wakefield, Todd's girlfriend, when she'd been at her most vulnerable--after an accident that had left her acting completely out of

character for several weeks. Fortunately, Bruce had failed. But only barely.

"Tell me, Wilkins, who do
you
think's going to win? Esteban? You know he's the school's distance runner only because no one else wanted to be. Riley? The guy's purely a sprinter. And no one else from the track team even has the guts to try out." Bruce sneered. "Face it, Wilkins, I'm our school's only hope. And I'm willing to wager I'm just as fast as those guys from the other schools. I plan to take home that trophy next Saturday."

"And I suppose it wouldn't bother you that you'd be depriving some guy of a college education if you win?" Todd was referring to the full scholarship to Sweet Valley College that went along with the trophy.

"Come off it, Wilkins. Nobody's run that race just for the scholarship in years."

"Have you made up your mind yet about whether to try out, Todd?" asked John.

"I'm still not sure. But I
could
use the scholarship--unlike some people in this room." Todd eyed Bruce coldly as he took off his soaked T-shirt. "I imagine I have as good a chance as anyone. These legs of mine do OK on the basketball court. What about you, John?" Todd asked.

"Nah, covering the race for
The Oracle
will keep me busy enough. Besides, scholarship or no scholarship, there's no way I'm going to

subject myself to Coach Schultz's practices. That man's a killer."

"Maybe," Todd said as he headed toward the showers. "But he's one of the best coaches this school has ever had."