SVH10-Wrong Kind of Girl (6 page)

"Already?" asked a surprised Elizabeth. "I thought the tryouts weren't until after school."

"Well, they aren't," Jessica confessed, "but you won't make your deadline if we wait till then. You can be sure this is the list."

Elizabeth scanned the names.

"Jessica!" she scolded.

Jessica Wakefield's eyes widened--pure innocence personified. "I'm trying to give you a scoop, Liz."

"I'll take the list--
after
the tryouts."

And then who should dash into the
Oracle
office but Annie Whitman, all aglow.

"I made it," she gushed to Jessica. "A B-minus in math! Oh, Liz, how can I ever thank you enough for helping me?"

Annie gave Elizabeth a huge hug before dashing back out of the office and off to her next class. "See you at the gym!" she told Jessica as she was leaving.

"So!"
declared Jessica as soon as Annie had disappeared.

Elizabeth turned toward her work.

"Traitor!"

Elizabeth typed furiously.

"I knew somebody was helping that girl," Jessica fumed, "but I never dreamed it would be my very own flesh and blood!"

Elizabeth stopped and looked pleadingly at her twin. "Give her a chance, Jess, will you?"

Jessica's answer was to turn and march out of the room.

Elizabeth lifted her fingers from the keyboard and rested her chin on her hand. "What timing," she muttered. "Why couldn't one of them have come in five minutes later?"

"Is this a private conversation, or can a mere teacher get in on it?" The words, accompanied by a soft chuckle, startled Elizabeth.

"What?" she said, turning quickly to see Mr. Collins in the doorway. The good-looking
Oracle
adviser was grinning at her.

If another teacher had caught her talking to herself, Elizabeth might have been embarrassed. But Mr. Collins was different. Every girl in Sweet Valley High knew just how different Roger Collins was. In his late twenties, he was one of the youngest teachers on the faculty. Everything about him--his tall, slim build, his strawberry-blond hair, the well-cut sport jackets he wore-- seemed perfect., "He makes the rest of the teachers look like they sleep at the Salvation Army," Jessica had once said.

But what made Roger Collins really popular with the kids at Sweet Valley--the guys as well

as the girls--was the way he looked at things. Maybe it was because of his age, but he could always be counted on to see the kids' side of things.

Mr. Collins walked across the room to where Elizabeth was sitting. "What's got my star reporter talking to herself?" he asked, still smiling at her. "Do you want to talk to me about it?"

"I think I do. I
know
I do. But I don't know if I should." Elizabeth stared down at the typewriter keys in indecision. She could really use Mr. Collins's advice, but if she told him what was going on with Annie and Jessica, it would put her sister in an awful light. Not only would that be disloyal, but Jessica would probably never forgive her if she found out--and Jessica seemed to have a way of always finding out.

"Maybe you should sign up for that new course being offered next year," Mr. Collins suggested lightly.

"Excuse me?" Elizabeth looked at him in confusion.

"The course is called Decisions, something you seem to have a little trouble with at the moment."

"I think I'd better be first in line," Elizabeth said, breaking into a small smile. "You see, Mr. Collins, this problem I have is--is not really my problem, but I've gotten kind of involved, somehow...." Her voice trailed off.

"That's what I like in a reporter, Wakefield. Clear, concise, to the point."

Elizabeth responded to Mr. Collins's teasing

with a giggle. He knew just how to make a person relax, Elizabeth thought. It was so easy to open up and talk to him.

"I'm trying to help someone get something she really wants, something really good for her," Elizabeth began. "But there's someone else who doesn't want her to have this good thing. And this someone else has what she thinks are good reasons." Elizabeth looked up at him, appealing for a solution.

"And you're stuck in the middle, right?" Mr. Collins said.

"I sure am."

"And both girls are good friends of yours," he continued.

Was Annie a good friend? Elizabeth hadn't really thought about it that way before. But Mr. Collins was right. Annie had become a friend. And Jessica was her twin, the person closest to her in the whole world. That made her even more than a friend.

"Yes, they're both people I care about. And I'm just afraid one of them is going to get hurt." Elizabeth looked toward Mr. Collins, who nodded encouragingly.

"And what about you?" he asked, pulling up a chair and sitting down. "You could end up hurt, too, if you get involved in their problems."

Elizabeth thought about how much Annie was depending on her for support and how little she could really do. Then she pictured Jessica's angry face of a few minutes ago. She was liable

to wind up disappointing both of them if she wasn't careful.

"I guess the most I can do is to be a good friend to both of them and let them work out their differences for themselves, right?" Elizabeth leaned back in her chair and studied Mr. Collins for confirmation.

"It's not for nothing that you're my star reporter, Wakefield." He tousled her hair playfully.

"Thanks for listening, Mr. Collins." For the first time all day, the cheering tryouts didn't seem to Elizabeth like the beginning and end of the world.

But they did seem that way to Annie, Cara, Sandra, and all the rest of the squad hopefuls. They met that afternoon in the gym, each girl praying that the long hours of practice would pay off.

Cara Walker went through her three cheers with perfection, having been exhaustively coached by the co-captain of the squad.

Sandra Bacon did the same, Jessica was happy to note.

One by one, the aspirants skipped out in front of the five cheerleaders and did their routines, starting with the "Go, Gladiators" cheer, then doing two cheers of their choice and finishing up with a split.

"The split's what separates the 'want-tos' from the 'can-dos,' " Helen Bradley told Jessica, and she was right, of course. Of the twenty-five girls, more than half couldn't manage the split.

But Annie Whitman wasn't one of those. Annie was a "can-do" all the way.

Out she dashed, creating an immediate electric excitement in everybody watching--with one exception, of course.

Annie carried pom-poms, which weren't required, but which gave her an edge right away. Then she did the first two cheers with such zest and perfection that Robin Wilson actually applauded.

And when she sailed across the gym in the last cheer and did two cartwheels and a back flip and
then
a split, she was quite simply a sensation.

By then everyone was applauding, except Jessica, who pretended to be busy marking the list of names.

Annie leaped up, blushing prettily at the applause, and dashed straight to the one person who was unimpressed.

"How'd I do?" Annie asked eagerly, still not realizing she was asking the wrong person.

Jessica forced a weak smile. "We'll see," she said.

Ricky Capaldo ran over to Annie at the same time and congratulated her. Annie was radiant; she knew she had done well.

After the rest of the girls had gone through their cheers and left the gym, Ricky handed out the scoring sheets to Robin, Helen, Jean West, Maria Santelli, and Jessica. Jessica was sure everything was arranged. She had not let a day go by without telling the other cheerleaders that

Cara and Sandy were right for the team and that Annie most emphatically was not.

"She's not our type." Jessica had never missed an opportunity to drum it into their heads.

The squad sat down and made up their lists, and then Ricky read off the top eight.

Cara Walker and Sandra Bacon were on it, as Jessica had planned.

But heading the list was the name that almost made her choke.

Annie Whitman!

"There must be a mistake," Jessica cried.

Ricky checked the vote tallies. "No, no mistake," he said.

Jessica felt her toes getting red, and then her legs and her body and finally her head. She thought she would explode! How could they be so blind to the kind of person Annie was? Jessica wondered angrily. In spite of everything, she had not yet gotten across the message. But, fortunately, it wasn't too late.

Ricky Capaldo took a lot of teasing as manager of the cheerleaders. "Seven girls at a time, Capaldo," the guys said.

"Only five at the moment," said Ricky, blushing like crazy.

"Poor kid," they would say. "Only five!"

But the truth was, Ricky was very shy and hardly spoke to any of the girls in school except the cheerleaders. And that was more or less business. He kept pretty much to himself, except

when he was racing wildly around the basketball court or football field helping the cheerleaders during games and practices. And even though he was quite close to the cheerleaders, Ricky would never have dreamed of asking one of them out. It was enough that he could be around them and be their friend.

But something was happening to Ricky lately. He was beginning to feel differently about one of the cheerleaders. Or at least, a girl who he felt sure would be a cheerleader very soon.

And that's why he was so happy the next day when he slipped a note to Annie Whitman in Spanish class. Annie shot a quick, excited look at Ricky and slipped the note into her Spanish book.

When class finally ended, a million years later, Annie darted outside, tore the book open, and devoured the note. "Congratulations on being one of the eight finalists," it read.

The corridor was full of Sweet Valley students on their way from one class to another. They were all treated to an explosive shriek of joy from Annie. They saw her grab Ricky Capaldo and hug him long and hard while dancing him around the hall.

"Heyyyyyyy!" Ricky laughed, red as a beet.

"Oh, Rickeeeee!" Annie yelled.

And for days after that, every time Ricky Capaldo walked into a classroom or the lunchroom, he was greeted by his fellow students with a loud chorus:

"Oh, Rickeeeee!"

Ricky could only shake his head and blush and laugh. He felt happier than he could ever remember.

Annie Whitman also felt happier than she could ever remember. She could feel her life changing day by day. Something brand new was happening to her. For one thing, her grades were climbing, and she now knew she could do as well as anybody else. For that, she had Elizabeth to thank.

But there was more to it than that. When she was doing cheers, and doing them well, she felt confident. She felt liked. Admired.

Elizabeth joined her sitting on the steps after school the day Annie had learned she had made the eight finalists.

"If s funny," Annie said, "but I'm beginning to feel a lot differently about myself. I used to think I wasn't much, Liz."

"That's silly," Elizabeth said solicitously.

"Maybe. But now I'm beginning to think I'm not so bad after all. When they applauded me, I felt that I was even respected."

"Well, you are," said Elizabeth.

"I think I'm going to cut down on my dating," Annie said. "I used to need a lot of attention. You know, to make up for that empty feeling inside. But boys aren't always the answer. I've made a lot of mistakes with boys, I guess."

Elizabeth let that one go by silently.

"How do you do it, Liz?" Annie asked, a note of sadness and envy creeping into her voice.

"How do I do what, Annie?" Elizabeth was startled by her friend's quick change in mood.

"How do you have a--a friendship--a relationship like you have with Todd Wilkins? I mean you two always seem to be having so much fun. I've never had that kind of thing with a guy."

Elizabeth remembered how it had been when she first knew Todd. She remembered how miserable she'd felt when she thought Todd was interested in Jessica and how wonderful she'd felt when she knew that Todd loved her, not her sister.

"I think it takes time to develop a good relationship, Annie. Time and trust and respect."

"I don't think any boy I've known has respected me," Annie said quietly. "And I don't think I've ever respected any of them. But that's all over now. I'm a different person now. I'm
almost
a Sweet Valley High cheerleader!"

Annie's words were still ringing in Elizabeth's ears an hour later, when she met Enid at the Dairi Burger. She was trying hard not to think about the whole cheerleading mess, but she sensed trouble and couldn't push the feeling aside.

Enid stirred her chocolate milkshake with the end of her straw and studied Elizabeth with a worried expression. "Liz, you look frazzled. Is something wrong?"

Elizabeth shook her head and gave her friend a weak smile. "No, I'm OK, Enid. Just a little tired. I've been kind of busy...." Her

sentence trailed off. She needed to talk about Jessica and Annie, but she didn't want to burden Enid with a problem no one could solve.

The two girls were sitting in a back booth, away from the usual crowd of kids from Sweet Valley High. Enid shifted uncomfortably in her seat and said softly, "Liz, I feel like we haven't had a chance to talk much recently." A note of hurt crept into her voice. "Don't you have time for me anymore?"

"Oh, Enid," Elizabeth said. "You're my best friend in the whole world. I always have time for you. Please, please believe me." She reached across the table to touch Enid's hand. "I guess I've been preoccupied lately. I didn't mean to ignore you. You know you're one of the most special people in my life."

Enid smiled. "Thanks, Liz. I feel the same way about you. But I'm still worried. What's bothering you? Is it something to do with Todd?"

"Todd? No, Todd and I are fine." Her face lit up as she pictured his irresistible smile. If only Annie had someone who cared about her that way, she wouldn't need Jessica and the cheerleaders quite so much. Elizabeth's expression darkened again as she thought about the problem.

She debated with herself. Should she tell Enid about Annie and Jessica? She felt it would somehow be disloyal to her sister, and she knew there wasn't much that Enid could do. But she could trust Enid to understand. And she had to talk to someone, or she was going to burst.