The Dating Game

  THE DATING GAME

  Written by

  Kate William

  Created by

  FRANCINE PASCAL

  Copyright © 2015, Francine Pascal

  "Are you still feeling nervous about this date of yours?" Jean asked.

  Claire burst out laughing. "Are you kidding? It's strange, but I almost feel as though I've never even talked to a boy before!"

  "Oh, come on," Jean teased, "After all, you've been on the football team, Claire! You can't feel uncomfortable around boys."

  "Well, I don't know," Claire said doubtfully. "Dating a football player is a lot different from passing him the ball."

  "You mean your date is a Gladiator?" Jean asked excitedly.

  Claire nodded.

  "What a coincidence! So is mine! And he's really good looking, too."

  "Mine, too," Claire whispered.

  Jean laughed. "I just can't get over the coincidences. They're both on the team. They're both really handsome. I'm almost afraid to ask what position he plays."

  "Quarterback," Claire whispered.

  "Quarterback?" Jean repeated. "But Scott Trost and Ken Matthews are the quarterbacks. And Ken goes out with Terri." Jean tried to remain calm. "Claire, I'm going out with Scott."

  Claire blinked. "But that's impossible, Jean. I'm going out with Scott!"

  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

  Chapter Thirteen

  One

  Jessica Wakefield talked animatedly as she ate her lunch. "This is definitely going to be one of the biggest dances of the year," she said, her blue-green eyes sparkling with excitement. She looked from one friend to the next. "Not only is the gym going to be absolutely covered in paper flowers, but the dance committee got permission to use candles on the patio tables."

  Sandra Bacon sighed. "Love in Bloom!" she exclaimed. "I think that's a great theme for a spring dance." She gave herself a hug. "And dancing by candlelight! Don't you think that's romantic?"

  Lila Fowler, who had been examining her eyebrows in a compact, dragged her gaze away from her own reflection. Romance wasn't her top priority. "I only wish I could convince my father to buy me that gold bracelet I saw at Bibi's. I want to wear it to the dance," she grumbled. "I can't go to something this special in the same old jewelry."

  Her friends exchanged a look among themselves. Bibi's was one of the most expensive boutiques in Sweet Valley, and Lila was one of the richest girls. Poor Lila, their looks said, what a hardship.

  "Well, if I were you, Lila, I wouldn't care about going in the same old gold," said Amy Sutton. "I'd worry about having to go with one of the same old boys." She rolled her pretty gray eyes. "I think I've found the perfect date for you, Lila. There's this gorgeous new guy working in the record store at the mall. He's exactly the person you'd want to go to a romantic dance like this with. I even had a dream about him. But, of course, that doesn't mean I don't love Barry."

  The other girls laughed. If they had a dollar for every boy Amy had ever dreamt about, they'd all be able to shop at Bibi's. And if they all didn't know that Amy was really and truly in love with her boyfriend, Barry Rork, they would have suspected Amy of scoping out the guy in the music store for herself and not Lila. Until Barry, Amy had had what they all had thought was a terminal case of the boy-crazies.

  Only Jessica didn't join in her friends' laughter. Her mind was on something else. "Did anyone see that show about dreams last night?" she asked seriously. "It was all about analyzing and interpreting your dreams. It was really fascinating. You'd be amazed how significant dreams can be."

  Amy picked up her fork. She did not look interested. "You mean all that boring psychological stuff?" She raised one eyebrow. "Like, if you dream that the cat gets lost, it means you secretly wish your brother would run away from home?"

  Lila went back to looking at herself in her mirror. "Dreams are just dreams. They don't mean anything." She gave herself a smile. "Every time I eat too much pepperoni pizza late at night, I dream that my car's been stolen."

  "Oh, I don't know if it's that simple," said Jean West suddenly.

  The others turned to her in surprise. She had been so quiet during the conversation about the big dance that they had almost forgotten she was there. "I saw part of that program, and it really convinced me of how important dreams can be." She smiled ruefully. "I only wish I had some dreams worth interpreting," she added.

  "The only dreams that are important are the ones about cute guys who drive sports cars," Amy said with a giggle.

  "Really, Amy," said Jessica, with a toss of her shoulder-length blond hair, "sometimes you can be so superficial. Almost every culture that has ever existed has recognized the significance of dreams."

  Lila snapped her compact closed. "Well, you certainly seem to have become the expert all of a sudden," she said. "Since when are you so well informed on the subject?"

  Jessica smiled knowingly. The idea of being an expert appealed to her. "Well, if you must know," she said airily, "I've been doing a lot of reading about dreams lately." In fact, Jessica had read one magazine article, but there was no reason for Lila to know that. "And," she continued, lowering her voice in a way that was guaranteed to catch the attention of her friends, "I've been having this one completely amazing dream lately."

  "I bet it has something to do with shopping," teased Lila.

  "As a matter of fact," Jessica replied coldly, "it doesn't have anything to do with shopping."

  "Come on, Jessica, tell us what it is," Jean urged. "The most memorable dream I've had lately was about turning up for a football game in my pajamas instead of my cheerleading outfit."

  But Jessica liked to be coaxed. "You really want to hear about it?" she asked coyly.

  "Of course we do," said Sandra.

  "Am I in the dream?" Lila asked.

  Jessica ignored her friend and cleared her throat theatrically. "Well," she began, "I'm walking along the beach. I'm wearing my two-piece pink bathing suit, the one with the little bows. Anyway, every few feet I pass another cute guy I know. There's Nicholas Morrow, and A. J. Morgan, and Danny Porter, and Scott Trost. . . ." She paused to make sure she had everyone's attention. "All of them want me to sit with them, but I just keep on walking. And then, all of a sudden, I'm on a different beach and there's no one around at all." By now, even Lila was listening to her every word. "Then, the next thing I know, it's raining. But there's nowhere to go for shelter. I start running. I run and run. And then I trip on something. I fall in the sand, and I'm lying there, getting soaking wet and thinking that I'm never going to get back home again, when I feel someone putting a blanket around me." She took a deep breath. "I turn to see who it is, and there's the most gorgeous boy I've ever seen!"

  "Does he have dark hair?" asked Amy.

  Jessica picked up her sandwich. "Well, actually, I'm not sure about that. It's storming so severely . . ."

  "Then how do you know he's so gorgeous?" asked Lila.

  Jessica looked exasperated. "It's a dream, Lila. Of course he's gorgeous."

  "So what happens then?" asked Sandra.

  Jessica shrugged. "Then I wake up."

  "It's like real life," said Jean. She smiled. "Just when you get to the good part, it ends."

  The other girls glanced at one another uneasily. Jessica knew that Jean, of course, was talking about herself and Tom McKay. They had really seemed to be made for each other, but then Tom had broken off the relationship, much to Jean's confusion and surprise.

  Sandra touched her best friend's shoulder. "Don't worry, Jean," she said gently. "You'll find the right guy for you yet."

  Jessica tapped on the table. "Hey," she said, "don't you want to hear what my dream means?"

  "I know what it means," said Lila. "It means you should never walk on an empty beach without an umbrella."

  "I've had it three times," Jessica went on. "Everybody knows that if you have the same dream three times, it means it's going to come true."

  Amy laughed. "You mean you really are going to get caught in a storm on the beach?"

  Jessica was too excited to be discouraged. "Of course not. The beach isn't what's important. It's the boy who's important." She looked from one to another of her friends triumphantly. "This boy is my one true love."

  "Your one true love?" Sandra repeated.

  "Yes," Jessica said firmly. "I just know that it's him."

  "Maybe I'd better start dreaming harder," Jean said, laughing.

  "Maybe you should, Jean," Jessica advised her solemnly. "Dreams do come true, you know."

  Jessica's twin, Elizabeth Wakefield, was sitting on the opposite side of the cafeteria with her boyfriend, Todd Wilkins, her best friend, Enid Rollins, and Claire Middleton. Like her identical twin, Elizabeth was a classic California blond with blue-green eyes and a tiny dimple in her left cheek. The sisters looked so much alike that even their parents had trouble telling them apart. But that was where the similarities ended. For while Jessica's favorite pastimes were shopping, going to parties, and dating every good-looking boy she met, Elizabeth was a hard-working student and a serious young woman who preferred spending time with Todd or a few close friends to a hectic social scene.

  She was far from se
rious now, however, as she teased Claire about the Love in Bloom dance that was less than two weeks away. "How about it, Claire?" Elizabeth said with a smile. "Who's the lucky guy going to be?"

  Claire flushed. She hadn't been at Sweet Valley High very long, and although she'd made a name for herself by becoming the first girl in the school's history to try out for the Gladiators, Sweet Valley High's football team, she hadn't yet dated anyone. "I'm not really much of a dancer." she said shyly.

  "You don't have to be much of a dancer to go to a dance," Todd said. He gave Claire a mischievous grin. "Look at Elizabeth. She's got three left feet, but I can't keep her away from the dance floor."

  Elizabeth punched Todd playfully in the arm. "Tell the truth," she laughed. "You're the one with the extra left feet!"

  "Anyway," said Claire, "it doesn't matter how many left feet I have. I don't think anyone's going to ask me."

  "Oh, come on," Enid said, "don't be modest, Claire. Any girl as intelligent, as nice, and as pretty as you are has to have her admirers."

  "Not to mention any girl who's as good a quarterback as you are," Todd added.

  "And don't tell me there isn't someone you're interested in," Elizabeth prompted. She smiled impishly. "Some handsome football player, maybe?"

  Automatically, all four of them glanced over at the next table, where several of the Gladiators were noisily inhaling their lunches.

  Claire's cheeks turned a bright pink. "Well," she whispered, "there is this one boy who seems pretty nice . . ."

  "Does he wear a helmet and like to go into a huddle?" Enid asked teasingly.

  But Claire shook her head. "I'm not telling. I don't want to jinx myself." She stood up and pushed in her chair. "Anyway," she said, "I've really got to get going. I've got this major English project to do. I want to go to the library before my next class to see what I can find."

  "I'll come with you, Claire," said Enid. "I have to return a couple of books I borrowed."

  Once they were alone, Elizabeth turned to Todd. "Claire's really nice, isn't she?" she asked.

  Todd started to reply, but his words were drowned out by a sudden burst of hilarity from the next table.

  They both looked over.

  Tim Nelson was choking with laughter. "Oh, right, Trost," he gasped. "And who are you taking to the dance if you're so fussy?"

  Scott Trost, the handsome quarterback, was sitting at one end of the table, looking smugly amused by Tim's question. Not long before, Scott had been temporarily suspended from the Gladiators because of poor grades, but now he was back on the team and playing even better than before. For all his good sportsmanship, Scott didn't mix much socially. Some people said this was because he was shy. Some said it was because he was stuck-up. "If I don't have a date for the dance," said Scott, sounding anything but shy, "it's because I don't want one."

  The other boys started laughing again and pounding on the table with their hands.

  "Oh, right," said Zack Johnson. He winked at his teammates. "That's not the way I hear it, Scott."

  Scott raised one eyebrow. "Oh, yeah?"

  "Oh, yeah?" Zack mimicked. "I hear you've been dumped so many times, you're afraid to ask anyone out."

  Scott looked shocked. "Me?" he asked. "Me, dumped? You must be falling on your head too much, Johnson. Scott Trost does not get dumped."

  "Except by Amy Sutton," Elizabeth whispered to Todd.

  "Amy dumps everybody sooner or later," Todd whispered back. "She doesn't count."

  "If you don't get dumped," Tad Johnson, Zack's older brother, broke in, "it's only because there isn't a girl in the school who would go out with you on a bet anymore."

  "Is that so, Blubber?" Scott asked, referring to Tad by the nickname he'd been given because of his enormous size. "Are you sure you're not confusing me with yourself?"

  Danny Porter, the team's quiet but cute and well-liked wide receiver, rapped on the table. "Come on, you guys," he said good-naturedly. "You don't have to start insulting each other." Then he shook his head. "On the other hand, Scott," he said with a grin, "you have to admit that you've got a little bit of an attitude problem when it comes to girls."

  "Look who's talking," Scott shot back. "I don't see them lining up for you, Porter. You probably can't even remember your last date. Whereas I," he went on, "I could go to that dance with any girl I wanted, just like that," he said, snapping his fingers.

  This time Danny's disbelief was genuine. "You're too much, Trost, you know that?"

  "OK," Tim said, loudly enough to cause several more heads to turn toward his table. "Prove how popular you are, Mr. Wonderful."

  Scott got to his feet and shoved his books under his arm. ''Don't you worry," he replied angrily. "I'll be at the dance. And I won't be alone!"

  Elizabeth stared after Scott as he strode from the cafeteria. "I don't believe him!" she exclaimed, turning back to Todd. "Did you hear him? He's so arrogant! No wonder no one wants to date him," she fumed. "It surprises me that no one's tried to murder him."

  Todd grinned amiably. "I wouldn't get too upset about it, Liz," he said mildly. "Scott's really not such a bad guy."

  Elizabeth stared at Todd as though he'd just acquired a second head. "Not such a bad guy?" she repeated. "What are you talking about? Did you hear him? He acts as if he's the best thing to happen to women since pantyhose."

  "He just got a little carried away with himself, that's all," Todd said. "You know how guys are. They like to brag. It doesn't really mean anything."

  Elizabeth's blue-green eyes were blazing. "Well, it means something to me," she said shortly. "It means Scott's a creep."

  "You should have heard him, Mom," Elizabeth said to Mrs. Wakefield. She deepened her voice in an imitation of Scott Trost. "I can have any girl I want."

  Mrs. Wakefield smiled understandingly. "At least Todd's not like that," she pointed out, "and that's what really matters."

  Elizabeth had an easygoing nature, but there were some things she felt very strongly about, and this was one of them. "It's a matter of principle, Mom," she explained. "That sort of shallow behavior really gets to me."

  Mrs. Wakefield patted her daughter's shoulder sympathetically. "I know you like to stand up for your principles," she told her daughter.

  "You know what it reminds me of, Mom? It reminds me of the beauty pageant. It's exactly the same kind of attitude." Recently, when a beauty pageant had been held in the auditorium of Sweet Valley High, Elizabeth led a protest against it because she believed that the emphasis of all those contests was on looks rather than on character and intelligence. "It's as if he thinks we're not people at all. To hear Scott talk, you'd think there was a girl tree or something, and that all he had to do was just reach out and pick the one he wants."

  At that moment Jessica drifted into the kitchen, a dreamy expression on her face. Catching the end of her sister's sentence, she came to an abrupt stop and widened her eyes. "So what's wrong with going after what you want?" she said.

  "That's not what we were talking about," Elizabeth tried to explain. "We were talking about boys who think that any girl should be thrilled to get a date with them."

  Jessica stared blankly at her twin. Elizabeth sighed. She knew Jessica seriously believed that any boy she liked should be thrilled to go out with her, so it was difficult for her to appreciate the point Elizabeth was trying to make. "I don't see what's wrong with a little self-confidence," she said at last.

  Elizabeth turned to her mother for support, but Mrs. Wakefield had ducked behind the refrigerator door. Elizabeth smiled inwardly. She knew that after a hard day at work, the last thing her mother wanted was to be caught in the middle of her opinionated twins. "Jessica," Elizabeth said in exasperation, "I'm not talking about self-confidence. I'm talking about egotism."

  But Jessica still seemed distracted. "No, you're not," she said. "You're saying that a person who's in love shouldn't go after what she, or he, wants."

  It was Elizabeth's turn to stare blankly at her sister. Sometimes it was hard for her to believe that they lived on the same planet, let alone that they were identical twins. "Jessica," said Elizabeth reasonably, "I didn't say anything like that. I'm talking about boys who—"

  "I don't know about you, Elizabeth Wakefield," Jessica interrupted, "but I believe in true love. It's everyone's destiny. And everyone has a right to go out and find it, no matter what." With a toss of her head she marched from the kitchen.