Outcast Read online

  OUTCAST

  Written by

  Kate William

  Created by

  FRANCINE PASCAL

  Copyright © 2015, Francine Pascal

  OUTCAST

  As if from far away, Molly heard herself say, "I could come with you."

  Buzz gaped at her, astonished. "No! I couldn't ask you to run away—no."

  Molly shook her head, trying to dispel the fog of pain and confusion. What was she saying? Was she totally crazy?

  But instead of rejection, here was an offer of something more, something better. And it was coming from someone who said he wanted her. She hadn't heard much of that lately. "There's nothing to keep me here," she said, rubbing her tired eyes with the heel of her hand.

  Faces and voices swam into Molly's imagination—angry faces, harsh voices accusing her of tormenting Regina Morrow and driving her to her death. How dare they treat her that way! Well, she would show them. She would show them what they'd get for treating her so badly.

  A sob welled up in her throat. "Those—those pigs," she said angrily. I can't think of anything bad enough to call them! But they'll see. I'll show them. I'm going with you, Buzz. They'll be sorry. All of them."

  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  One

  Elizabeth Wakefield wiped her eyes with a tissue; her hand was trembling with emotion. She and her boyfriend, Jeffrey French, moved slowly toward the door of the auditorium of Sweet Valley High as the crowd filed out. All around her were the sounds of muffled crying—heart-wrenching tears of grief like the ones Elizabeth had been shedding since the night her friend Regina Morrow had died.

  Nicholas Morrow, Regina's brother, had asked her to speak at the service. She had managed not to cry as she spoke. But as soon as she was offstage, she had begun crying again. Now, her throat ached, and her chin quivered uncontrollably as a sob welled up to the surface again. Pressing her fist against her mouth, Elizabeth looked up into Jeffrey's deep green eyes. He had been crying, too.

  For a moment neither of them spoke: the pain of Regina's tragic death went too deep for words. Then Jeffrey tenderly brushed a lock of honey-gold hair from Elizabeth's forehead and gave her a faint, pained smile. "I love you so much, Liz," he whispered. "If anything ever—"

  "Shhh." Elizabeth put a finger to his lips and shook her head. "Don't even think about it!" she pleaded. She drew a shaky breath. "I have to go find Bruce and Amy," she said, fighting for control. "It's important."

  Jeffrey nodded. "I'll be waiting for you."

  As they walked outside into the blinding sunshine, Elizabeth caught sight of Bruce Patman and Amy Sutton, who were standing somewhat apart from the crowd. Until recently, Bruce and Regina had been a steady couple. But then things had changed: Bruce and Amy started working together on a project that threw them together constantly, and they began secretly dating. When Regina found out about it she was devastated, and as an act of defiance, she began hanging out with a wild bunch of kids. She accused her old friends of betraying her by not telling her about Amy and Bruce, and she tried to start over again without them. And now . . .

  Now Regina was dead. Her feelings of rejection and betrayal had driven her down a fatal road. When her new friend Justin Belson had invited her to a party with a group of kids known to use drugs, she said yes. It was a big mistake. To prove that she wasn't an outsider, Regina had agreed to try some cocaine. She had had an extremely rare reaction to the drug. Her heartbeat had accelerated, bringing on sudden cardiac failure. A heart murmur she had had since birth had aggravated the reaction. She had fallen into a coma and never woke up again.

  "Bruce? Amy?" Elizabeth spoke softly, and they turned to face her. There was a look of despair on Bruce's handsome face, and his jaw was tightly clenched. Amy's cheeks were streaked with tears, but she held Bruce's hand defiantly.

  Elizabeth took a deep breath. "I just wanted you to know that Regina—Regina understood," she began, her voice cracking from emotion. "She wrote me a letter the night she—that night—and said she didn't hold—anything against you, so—so—"

  Bruce pressed his lips together so hard the edges turned white, and tears welled up in his eyes. Elizabeth's heart ached to see him in such pain, and she put one hand on his arm as tears spilled down her own cheeks.

  "Thanks, Liz," he choked out. He turned away quickly.

  Amy gave Elizabeth a long, searching look. "Is that true?" she whispered. Long ago, Amy and Elizabeth had been best friends. Then the Suttons had moved to Connecticut, and Elizabeth had thought her childhood friend was gone forever. Recently, though, the Suttons had moved back to Sweet Valley, and Elizabeth had been ecstatic at the thought of renewing their old ties. But Amy had changed over the years into a frivolous, boy-crazy girl, and it was impossible to rekindle their friendship. Now, for the first time since Amy's return, Elizabeth felt as if they were looking straight into each other's hearts.

  Elizabeth met Amy's worried gaze and nodded slowly, and Amy let out a long, drawn-out sigh of relief and sadness. Neither of them could speak, and finally Elizabeth just walked away.

  She rejoined Jeffrey underneath a tree on the lawn. "Let's go home," she said wearily.

  Putting his arm around her shoulders, Jeffrey gave her a comforting squeeze. Then they left Sweet Valley High and headed for Elizabeth's house.

  The familiar scenery of their pretty California town flashed by as they drove away from the school. Elizabeth drew comfort from the everyday solidness of the trees, the houses, and the sun shining above. She turned to Jeffrey and shook her head in amazement.

  "You know, this all happened so quickly, I almost can't take it in."

  He nodded ruefully. "I know what you mean. It's hard to believe that just over a week ago, Regina was still—alive."

  "What I really wonder about is why she went to that party in the first place," Elizabeth continued, frowning. "I mean, I know she was spending time with Justin, but what would she want to go to Molly Hecht's party for? They're all pretty messed-up kids in that group. She knew that. I just . . ." Her voice trailed off, and she swallowed hard. None of it made any sense to her. How could pretty, confident Regina have let anyone talk her into using drugs? She just didn't seem like the type to get pressured into doing something, or to say to herself, "Why not? Just this once." Elizabeth couldn't imagine how it ever could have happened.

  "Here we are," Jeffrey said quietly. The car rolled to a stop in front of a big split-level house. Ahead of them, parked by the sidewalk, were a brown Ford LTD and an old yellow Volkswagen.

  Elizabeth squared her shoulders. "Looks like my whole family is home," she observed, trying to make her voice sound normal. "They all knew about today's memorial service."

  "Hey." Jeffrey turned her face to his and looked steadily into her eyes. His own eyes were filled with compassion and love. "Are you going to be OK?" he asked gently.

  Before she could speak, a red Fiat convertible roared to a stop behind them. As she glanced over her shoulder, Elizabeth sighed. She looked back at Jeffrey and touched his cheek softly. "Yeah. I'll be fine." They kissed tenderly, and then Elizabeth stepped out of the car and watched as Jeffrey drove away.

  Then she turned to face the one person who knew better than anyone else how she felt: her identical twin, Jessica. The girl facing Elizabeth was her mirror image: the same sun-streaked blond hair, the same dimpled left cheek, the same slim, five-foot, six-inch figure, the same healthy California tan.

  The similarity only went as deep as the tan, however, because Elizabeth and Jessica had wildly different personalities. Jessica—the younger twin by four minutes—lived in a helter-skelter fashion, changing her wardrobe and her boyfriends with breathtaking speed. More responsible and thoughtful, Elizabeth preferred quiet times with her close friends to wild parties. And she often felt like pulling her hair out over her twin's exploits.

  But even though in many ways the two girls were very different, the bond they shared as identical twins went deeper than anything else. Their eyes locked, and then they rushed into each other's arms.

  "Oh, Lizzie!" Jessica wailed. "I wish it were just a bad dream."

  "Me, too, Jess. Me, too."

  For a moment Elizabeth stroked Jessica's hair. Jessica had never been a great friend of Regina's, but her grief was just as real as Elizabeth's. Always tempestuous, always in high gear, Jessica Wakefield felt everything with an intensity that Elizabeth found exhausting.

  But in the end the twins always found more comfort in each other than in anyone else. With their arms around each other's shoulders, they walked up to the house.

  Steven, the twins' older brother, opened the front door and nodded over his shoulder. "We're all in the kitchen," he said quietly. "Mom and Dad thought we should have a family conference."

  Elizabeth gave her older brother a faint smile. "You didn't have to come home from college for us, Steve."

  "Forget it." He cleared his throat gruffly as he led the way inside. "I know how you must feel."

  It hadn't been that long ago that eighteen-year-old Steven Wakefield had watched his girlfriend, Tricia Martin, die of leukemia. His grief had been deep and long lasting, and his family had stood by him all the way. Elizabeth knew he was remembering that ordeal
now, and that he wanted to do something for his sisters because they had lost a friend, too.

  The girls followed their brother into the cheerful, Spanish-tiled kitchen. At the table sat Ned and Alice Wakefield, their faces filled with sympathy and understanding as they welcomed their daughters. Blond, pretty, and slim, Mrs. Wakefield was sometimes mistaken for the twins' older sister. But at the moment she was all maternal concern. She rose and came forward, her hands outstretched.

  "Hi, girls," she said, taking them each by the hand. She looked intently into Jessica's eyes and then switched her gaze to Elizabeth.

  As her eyes met her mother's vivid blue eyes, Elizabeth felt some of the bitter sadness lighten in her heart, as though her mother were helping to share the heavy burden. She smiled, suddenly very grateful and glad that her parents were there when she needed them.

  "Let's sit down, all right?" Mrs. Wakefield pulled two chairs out from the table and sat back down as her daughters took their seats. Elizabeth felt a wet touch on her hand. She smiled down tenderly at Prince Albert, the twins' Labrador retriever. Gazing earnestly into her eyes, he pressed against her leg as though sensing her unhappiness. She fondled his silky ears, grateful for his silent support.

  "I thought we should talk about what happened," began Mr. Wakefield, who approached many family problems with the same methodical care he approached legal problems. He ran a hand through his dark, wavy hair and sighed. "Your mother and I want you to know—and you, too, Steve," he added with a nod in his son's direction, "that if there's ever anything that makes you feel as though drugs are the only answer—"

  "Just stop and think for a minute," Mrs. Wakefield continued, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the table. "And then come to us. There's nothing you can't confide in us—nothing we wouldn't do everything possible to help you cope with."

  Elizabeth stared at the sugar bowl, lost in thought. It hurt deeply that Regina hadn't felt able to confide in her. There had been a time when Regina told Elizabeth all her hopes and dreams. But when Regina had found out that Elizabeth knew about Bruce and Amy and hadn't told her, Regina had thought of Elizabeth as a traitor.

  "Regina may have felt betrayed and alone," Mrs. Wakefield went on, echoing Elizabeth's thoughts. "But even if she felt she couldn't talk to her parents, she did have other options."

  "It can seem really tempting to turn to drugs to escape," Steven cut in, his eyes dark with emotion. "When Trish died, Betsy couldn't deal with it. She thought the only way to get over losing her sister was by numbing herself with drugs. But it isn't the answer. It never is."

  Elizabeth shook her head. "But it was so unlike Regina. She was the last person I would have expected—"

  "Well, she never would have done it if it hadn't been for Molly Hecht making her!" Jessica cried out suddenly, breaking her long silence. "It's all Molly's fault!"

  Ned Wakefield shook his head. "No, Jess. It may have been her party, Molly may have given Regina a push, but it was Regina who held out her hand for the drugs. It was her decision."

  "But Molly—"

  Elizabeth reached for her sister's hand under the table and squeezed hard. She knew her parents and Steven were right—it had been Regina's decision. But another part of her agreed with Jessica. If it hadn't been for Molly Hecht throwing that party in the first place—and inviting her messed-up friends—maybe Regina would still be alive today.

  Her eyes filled with tears again, and the sunny, plant-filled room blurred. No. No matter what, she would never be able to look at or think of Molly Hecht again without thinking of Regina and without feeling an aching emptiness.

  She felt a pressure on her hand as Jessica squeezed back, and Elizabeth sent her sister a look of complete understanding.

  "And another thing," their father went on. "I know you're probably asking yourselves: 'Why Regina? Why her?' Well, it could have been anyone—anyone at all who used cocaine or heroin or any other drug, or even liquor. She took a chance, and we all lost because of it."

  The family sat in silence for a few moments, each one contemplating Mr. Wakefield's words.

  "You know," Jessica began thoughtfully, "I know I wasn't always that nice to Regina—I mean, we weren't really ever close—but now that she's gone, I just wish there was something I could do."

  "Oh, sweetheart, that's very generous of you." Alice Wakefield smiled tenderly at Jessica. "But just remembering what a sweet girl she was, and all the wonderful things she accomplished—that's the best way to remember her."

  But Jessica shook her head. "No, Mom. I mean really do something. Something real. I—I want to make it up to Regina for not treating her better when I had the chance."

  Elizabeth stared wide-eyed at her twin, surprised by the intensity in Jessica's voice. Although she hated to admit it, Elizabeth was slightly skeptical of Jessica's desire to do something in Regina's memory. There wasn't any lack of sincerity in her offer, but Jessica often got carried away with good intentions on the spur of the moment, then forgot them just as quickly. But maybe this time she really would do something.

  Reaching across the table, Ned Wakefield touched Jessica's cheek. "You'll think of something, Jess. I know you will."

  "But just remember, sweetheart," her mother put in gently. "Nothing will bring Regina back. We all have to remember that."

  Nothing will bring Regina back. The words resounded in Elizabeth's head, and a picture formed in her mind. She had first seen Regina at a party, a laughing, beautiful, raven-haired girl who had just moved to Sweet Valley. Elizabeth hadn't been able to believe—no one had—that Regina was deaf; there was nothing handicapped about her, even though she had to watch intently to read lips when she was talking.

  And then another image replaced that one: a triumphant Regina returning to school for the first time after a series of special treatments in Switzerland had given her normal hearing. No one had ever looked more full of joy and life than Regina Morrow did then.

  "Excuse me," Elizabeth said quietly. She pushed herself up heavily and drew a shaky breath. "I think I'd like to be alone for a while. I'll be in my room."

  She met her mother's eyes for a long, silent moment and read the concern in her gaze. "I'll be OK, Mom," she whispered, managing a slight smile. Then she walked steadily out the door and up the stairs to her room, Prince Albert padding loyally behind.

  Carefully, slowly, as if it were a delicate, important task, Elizabeth closed her bedroom door and leaned against it. Then she began to feel as though all the life were draining from her body, and she dragged herself to a chair and sat down. If only this could be a bad dream. If only—

  With tears welling up in her eyes again, Elizabeth took a letter from the top of her writing table and reread it.

  I never admitted to myself that Bruce and I had drifted apart. He isn't to blame, either. Sometimes couples just change and grow apart. Seeing how jealous Molly has been has helped me to see that Amy wasn't really to blame at all. No one can really break up a couple in love.

  I owe you an apology because I see now that you tried to act in my best interest. I've always admired you so much, Liz . . . I really am sorry, and hope our friendship will last forever.

  The ink began to run in a few spots where Elizabeth's tears had fallen, and the words blurred on the page. She automatically refolded the letter, then rested her hands in her lap. Elizabeth stared sightlessly at the far wall and slowly shook her head. On the floor by the bed, Prince Albert raised his head and whined softly.

  "Oh, Regina!" Elizabeth whispered. "I'm going to miss you so much!"

  Two

  Jessica set her lunch tray down and slid into a chair next to her friend, Lila Fowler. The cafeteria wasn't as noisy as usual that Monday. It seemed that some of the somberness of Friday's memorial service still hung in the air.

  "Hi." Lila sighed. She took a sip of her diet soda and swirled the ice around in the cup as she stared at her salad.

  Jessica echoed the sigh. "Hi. Here comes Cara."

  The two girls watched silently as the third member of their trio, Cara Walker, pulled out a chair to join them. She met their eyes briefly and sat down.

  For several minutes they simply ate their lunches, not even bothering to talk. But Jessica's mind was still turning over and over the idea of doing something—she didn't know what—for Regina. Finally she leaned forward and crossed her arms on the table.