What Jessica Wants . . . Read online

  WHAT JESSICA WANTS . . .

  Written by

  Kate William

  Created by

  FRANCINE PASCAL

  Copyright © 2015, Francine Pascal

  To Danielle Pallotta

  Jessica straightened up and tried to calm the fluttering in her heart. When Devon noticed her approaching, he immediately stood up, a grin lighting his face.

  "Hi, Devon," she said huskily.

  "Hi, yourself," Devon returned with just a hint of seduction.

  He put his arms around her and pulled her close. Jessica was in sheer bliss.

  She returned the embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck. She smelled a hint of cologne on his neck and inhaled deeply. Not too strong or fragrant, just clean, fresh, and masculine. Jessica savored the moment, taking in every detail. His soft hair brushing against her cheek, the noise of his leather jacket as he moved, the soft fabric of his T-shirt. Her night with Devon was finally here.

  "I knew you'd come, Elizabeth," he breathed into her ear, still holding her tight. "I knew you couldn't stay away."

  Visit the Official Sweet Valley Web Site on the Internet at:

  http://www.sweetvalley.com

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 1

  Seventeen-year-old Devon Whitelaw pulled his Harley-Davidson Sportster into the parking lot in front of Sweet Valley High. He looked up and smiled as a couple of students ran through the front doors of the school, wearing shorts and T-shirts.

  "I'm certainly not in Connecticut anymore," he said to himself as he removed his helmet and hung it on a handlebar.

  The weather back in Devon's old hometown would be crisp at this time of year, but the climate in Sweet Valley was much milder, to say the least.

  It was Friday afternoon, and after taking a week to relax and get used to his new town, Devon had decided to ride over to his new high school to register for classes. He had left the East Coast over a month ago when his parents had been killed in a car accident. His fathers will had stipulated that Devon was required to find a guardian in order to receive his significant inheritance. After a long, sometimes heartbreaking, search Devon had found a home in Sweet Valley with the nanny from his childhood, Nan Johnstone.

  Devon felt the warm sun through his faded blue jeans, and the light breeze made his cotton T-shirt ripple underneath his leather jacket. He took a deep breath of the clean salt-scented California air and sighed. For the first time in years he was beginning to believe that things were actually getting better for him. Nan's house was already more of a home to him than his parents' mansion had ever been. In fact, he was starting to feel like he had been living there for months instead of a few days.

  Devon looked over his new school. It was a beautiful brick building with marble columns at the main entrance. The campus was surrounded by trees, and the grounds were immaculate. Flowers lined the paved walkways, giving the landscape a bright and cheery look. It was homey—not industrial like a lot of high schools Devon had seen. He took in every detail of his surroundings, hoping that the inside of the school would be just as welcoming.

  He ascended the wide concrete steps slowly and paused before opening the tall wooden door, running a hand through his wavy brown hair. This is it, he thought, my chance to start fresh. He wasn't nervous, but he did want to savor the experience. He was about to begin a new life, and he wanted to remember every minute.

  Devon swung open the door just as the bell rang, and the hall was instantly flooded with bodies. Devon was surprised at first as kids laughed and chattered all around him. But he got his bearings quickly and immediately started searching the crowd, trying to catch a glimpse of the beautiful blond girl he had spotted at last week's football game.

  On a whim, Devon had attended the big match the week before, hoping to get a feel for his new school. But soon after he had arrived, he hadn't been thinking about classes and school spirit at all. He had seen the girl of his dreams walking along by the bleachers, chatting with a friend. Devon had tried to catch up with her but had lost her in the crowd. Moments later she had appeared on the track, wearing a red-and-white uniform and leading the crowd in a cheer. Devon hadn't been able to take his eyes off her at the time, and he hadn't stopped thinking about her since.

  Devon saw a flash of blond hair and was about to check it out when he felt a sudden push from behind that jolted him forward a few steps. He spun around, instinctively clenching his fists, but the person standing there wasn't at all intimidating. He was tall and lanky with tousled brown hair. A flurry of papers was falling around him as he looked nervously at Devon, smiling weakly.

  "Oh, my gosh, I'm really sorry," the guy apologized quickly, his voice cracking as he spoke. "I was trying to finish a scene in this play." He held up a copy of Macbeth. "We're having a quiz in English today, and I'm a little behind in the reading."

  Devon opened his mouth to respond, but the guy continued to ramble.

  "I thought I was watching where I was going, but when I looked up—bam—there you were. I tried to avoid you, but . . ." He finished the sentence with a shrug and a helpless look.

  "Hey, it's no problem," Devon said finally. The guy crouched to the floor to gather his belongings. When he reached for his calculator, which had already been kicked twice, a girl in high heels stepped on his fingers.

  "Ouch!" he exclaimed, jerking back his hand and shaking it. He glanced up at Devon and grimaced. "Sometimes I can be such a klutz."

  "I noticed," Devon said with a good-natured smile, kneeling down as well. The boy grinned sheepishly at Devon once more, then gathered a brown lunch bag and a stray apple up in his arms.

  Devon picked up the remaining papers and pens and then helped the boy move from the center of the corridor to the side so that he could get organized.

  "Jeez, thanks a lot," the boy gushed as Devon handed him the rest of his things. "I really appreciate it. Especially after I nearly knocked you over and everything."

  "Don't sweat it," Devon reassured him with a casual nod. Then he smiled. "I habitually run into people myself. I find it's a great way to make new acquaintances."

  "Well, if you don't already know who I am, then you must be new around here," the guy said, tucking a pen behind his ear.

  "Why's that? Are you famous or something?" Devon asked.

  "Official class clown at your service," the guy said, straightening up and giving a little salute with his free hand. Devon watched the precarious pile of books and papers warily. "I'm Winston Egbert."

  "Devon. Devon Whitelaw." He extended his hand.

  Winston thrust his own hand forward. The mound of objects he was holding began to teeter. Devon caught a notebook in midair and returned it to Winston's arms.

  "It's OK," Devon said, handing Winston his notebook, "we can shake later."

  "Yeah, that's probably a good idea," Winston agreed with a laugh. He shifted the stack of stuff into a more comfortable position.

  "You really ought to get a backpack or something," Devon suggested.

  "Oh, I have one," Winston returned, nodding enthusiastically. "I spilled grape juice all over it at lunch, so it's hanging in my locker drying out."

  Devon suppressed a smile. It figures, he thought. I should have guessed as much.

  "Well, it was nice meeting you," Devon said, backing away. "I gotta go meet with a guidance counselor."

  "Oh, so you're star
ting here soon?" Winston asked.

  "Monday," Devon confirmed. "Hey, good luck on your quiz."

  Winston stiffened. "Yikes! My quiz!" he exclaimed. "I've got to run! If I'm late for English again, Mr. Collins is going to kill me." He dashed down the hall away from Devon. When he had advanced a few paces, he turned around and walked backward for a moment.

  "Hey, thanks a lot, Devon," he called back. "It was nice to meet you."

  "Watch out!" Devon called nervously as Winston nearly ran into a crowd of students standing just outside one of the classrooms. He heard Winston apologize to the group and excuse himself as he squeezed past them. Devon couldn't help laughing out loud.

  If I ever hang out with that guy, I'm going to have to remember to walk behind him, he thought wryly.

  Once Winston had disappeared around the corner and Devon was certain the halls were safe again, he continued along the corridor until he came to the main office.

  Devon swung open the heavy wooden door and introduced himself to the secretary who was seated directly in front of it. Almost immediately he was shown into one of the guidance counselors' offices. It seemed as if they'd been expecting him. Nan must have called in advance.

  Devon was examining the volumes of classic books on the shelves of the office when the guidance counselor walked in briskly.

  "Good afternoon, Devon," he said, offering his hand. "My name is Mr. Farrington, and I'd like to welcome you to Sweet Valley High."

  Devon quickly rose to greet the counselor and attempted to return the firm handshake with equal strength. Mr. Farrington was an imposing man about six and a half feet tall. He had a stem voice, smooth ebony skin, dark eyes, and chiseled features. But when Mr. Farrington smiled, his whole face lit up. Devon relaxed somewhat.

  "I understand you've had quite a journey," Mr. Farrington began. "I'd like to begin by saying that I'm sorry for your recent loss."

  "Thank you," Devon responded, a bit startled by the counselor's comments. It was a nice sentiment, but Devon began to wonder just how much Nan had told the school about him. He had hoped to start fresh in Sweet Valley and didn't need people knowing all about his wealthy background and high IQ—and he certainly didn't want anyone's pity.

  "I've received your transcripts from Westwood Academy, and I'm quite impressed with your record," Mr. Farrington said candidly. "It seems that you've tested at the genius level in mathematics and the general sciences and earned honors in all your other classes." Mr. Farrington paused to smile at Devon. "That's rather remarkable, you know."

  Devon managed a weak smile but was unable to look enthusiastic as the guidance counselor continued to list his accomplishments.

  "Science fair winner grades five through ten, math award both freshman and sophomore year, outstanding achievement in biology as well as algebra one and two . . . it goes on and on," Mr. Farrington said, beaming. Devon merely shrugged.

  For years Devon's teachers had patted him on the back, praising his accomplishments and telling him only a student with devoted parents could achieve such things. They continually emphasized how lucky he was, but Devon didn't agree. He gladly would have traded his high IQ and every one of his achievements for a father who played catch with him or a mother who asked him how his day was.

  The large man looked Devon in the eyes.

  "Let's get down to business, Mr. Whitelaw," he said. "Given the information from your previous school and the information Ms. Johnstone provided over the phone, I've taken the liberty of putting together a schedule for you." He paused and began rifling through the papers on his desk.

  Here we go again, Devon thought. I've already been labeled, and they'll be enrolling me in some gifted and talented program any minute now. So much for anonymity. He sat back heavily in the black antique captain's chair and slumped down. He watched Mr. Farrington flipping through the forms on the desk and resigned himself to his fate.

  It seemed he would always have other people in control of his life. His parents had placed him in special school programs, pushing him to finish at the top of his class and gain recognition. Now it appeared the same thing was going to happen in Sweet Valley.

  "Ah, here we are," Mr. Farrington said, looking up again. He handed Devon a sample schedule with space for seven classes plus lunch. To Devon's surprise, only two courses had been penciled in. The rest of the squares on the grid were blank.

  "I've enrolled you in AP chemistry and calculus to start out," Mr. Farrington told him. "If you don't find those challenging enough, you let me know right away. We might be able to work out something through our partnership with Sweet Valley University. Some of our students take classes there to bolster their transcripts."

  "You mean I'm only taking two classes?" Devon asked, dumbfounded.

  Mr. Farrington grinned kindly. "Of course not." He chuckled. "You'll have to fill in the other five blocks yourself. One of them has to be an English class and you'll need one history, but aside from that you're on your own." Devon simply stared. Was this guy for real?

  "Well, you didn't think I was going to make all your decisions for you, did you?" the guidance counselor asked.

  Devon felt a little foolish for having been so cynical. But after all he had been through, he had trouble trusting people. Before Devon had found Nan, he had nearly been taken in by two sets of conniving relatives—people who had pretended to care about him but were really interested in his money. He reminded himself of a promise he made to Nan—to try to see the good in people before jumping to conclusions.

  "We like to challenge our students, Devon," Mr. Farrington explained. "But we also want you to have a well-rounded education. That means you need to be involved in it. We want you to pursue your interests, not ours."

  Devon was astonished.

  Mr. Farrington reached into his file cabinet and pulled out a brochure. "Here's a list of the electives we offer at Sweet Valley High," he said, offering the booklet to Devon. "Why don't you look through the descriptions, make some choices, and let me know what you decide. Then we can check the computer and see what fits your schedule. How's that sound?"

  "Great," Devon replied enthusiastically. He looked up at Mr. Farrington and smiled. Maybe things will be different here after all, he thought. Now all I have to do is find that blond girl, and everything will fall into place.

  Jessica Wakefield was scanning the student parking lot for Lila Fowler's green Triumph convertible when she noticed him. Standing next to a sporty-looking motorcycle was one of the cutest guys she had ever seen, and he was staring right back at her.

  His gaze was so intense, Jessica couldn't have looked away if she had wanted to—but she definitely didn't want to. She eyed the stranger carefully, taking in every detail of his appearance. He was easily six feet tall, with a lean, muscular frame. His dark brown hair was cut short on the sides with more length on top, making him appear at once sophisticated and untamed. The cut also accentuated his strong, square jaw. He had full lips, and even from a distance Jessica could see the slate blue color of his eyes. Jessica wondered if he was the new student she had heard her friends talking about earlier. A few people had noticed him in the office that afternoon when he was registering for classes. He's even hotter than they said, Jessica thought.

  She watched him pull on his helmet, totally unable to take her eyes off him. And he seemed to be having a hard time looking away from her too.

  Naturally, Jessica thought. What man has ever been able to resist me? But she had to admit that this guy certainly had some charm of his own.

  His faded blue jeans and white T-shirt fit perfectly, showing off his strong, athletic build. With his brown leather jacket hanging loosely on his frame, he looked like the ultimate rebel. Definitely dangerous, Jessica thought, admiring him. Especially on that bike.

  Jessica recalled the tragedies her family had suffered because of motorcycles. Her cousin, Rexy, had been killed in a motorcycle accident just three years ago. Then, more recently, her twin sister, Elizabeth, had been in a coma
as a result of a similar incident. For a while Jessica had sworn she would never ride on a motorcycle herself, but she had since come to the conclusion that if handled properly, a motorcycle could be as safe as a car. She wasn't about to run out and buy one for herself, but she had been known to accept a ride from a cute guy on a bike from time to time.

  And that's one guy I wouldn't mind riding with, she thought. She pictured herself on the back of his bike with her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. The image made her smile. I could use a little excitement in my life right now, she thought. Closing her eyes, she imagined how it would feel to cruise down the road with the wind in her face. All eyes would be on her as she and her motorcycle hunk motored through town. Everyone would want to be as cool as she was. But then, she thought, doesn't everybody already want to be like me?

  Suddenly Jessica was startled by the sound of the motorcycle engine getting louder. She realized she had been daydreaming and opened her eyes just in time to see the guy on the motorcycle coming toward her. She stared longingly as the bike got closer. Then, just as he was about to pass her by, he turned and met her gaze.

  He's looking right at me, Jessica thought excitedly. Her heart was pounding. Is this what love at first sight is like? She stared back and held his gaze for what seemed like an eternity. His stony blue eyes were positively riveted on her. She felt her spine tingle as he got closer.

  Talk about intense, she thought. This is one guy I'm definitely going to get to know. Motorcycle or no motorcycle.

  It's her, Devon thought, his heart pounding as he drove toward the beautiful girl standing outside the school, and she's staring right back at me. Devon's cool composure was shattered as he stared at the blond goddess on the high-school lawn.

  From her shiny blond hair blowing in the wind to her gorgeous blue-green eyes, she was exactly as he had always pictured the ideal girl to be. She was vibrant and healthy, with a slim, athletic figure. She wore a simple, pale blue tank dress that fluttered in the wind. It had narrow shoulder straps that accentuated her long, elegant arms and graceful neck. The knee-length flared hemline showed off her shapely calves without revealing too much.