Alone in the Crowd Read online

  ALONE IN THE CROWD

  Written by

  Kate William

  Created by

  FRANCINE PASCAL

  Copyright © 2015, Francine Pascal.

  ALONE IN THE CROWD

  "I have a feeling that the girl is who wrote this song is really intense—really terrific," Guy said softly to Lynne, his brown eyes shining. "I can just tell by listening to her that she's not like anybody else around here. Playing backups for her would be like a dream come true. Like playing for Linda Ronstadt," he added, smiling at her.

  Lynne felt her mouth go dry. Guy probably thought this girl looked like Linda Ronstadt, too.

  Someone terrific, he had said. Lynne didn't have to think too hard to imagine what that meant. Someone curvy, lithe, beautiful, someone who would look as good onstage as she sounded.

  How right she'd been to keep her song anonymous! Lynne couldn't bear disappointing Guy, dashing his dream to bits. Let him keep thinking this anonymous songwriter was the girl he had been waiting for all his life.

  Lynne knew better, and she was determined no one else would learn the truth, however hard it became to keep her identity a secret.

  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

  "Listen, you guys!" Jessica Wakefield said, her blue-green eyes flashing with excitement as she jumped to her feet and pushed her chair back from the crowded lunch table. "I've finally come up with the perfect way to raise money for the cheerleaders. It's so perfect, it's going to make history around here!"

  "Don't talk about making history," Winston Egbert said and groaned. The tall, lanky boy was generally known as the clown of the junior class at Sweet Valley High and was always ready with a joke. "I've got a test in Fellows's class right after lunch," he went on, pretending to tear his dark hair out. "So if you're going to make history, Jess, make it soon. I need to learn some history good and fast!"

  Everyone at the table groaned.

  "What's your idea, Jess?" Elizabeth asked from across the table, flashing her sister a smile. Watching her twin glow with inspiration was like watching a light blub brighten. Though years of experience had taught Elizabeth that her sister was too often carried away, letting her enthusiasm and high spirits get her into trouble, she still found Jessica's excitement infectious.

  It was funny, she thought now, watching Jessica's face light up, as she prepared to explain her idea to the table of classmates looking expectantly up at her. As far as appearances went, she and her twin were mirror images. But when it came to their personalities, it was difficult to believe they were related!

  Sixteen years old, the twins were both model-slim, with gleaming blond hair, streaked by the California sun, and wide-set eyes that were the blue-green color of the Pacific Ocean. But Elizabeth's eyes were like the Pacific on a calm, serene day. As for Jessica—her eyes were more often stormy and flashing. Though Elizabeth was only four minutes older than her twin, she often felt the gap was more like four years. Jessica was so impulsive, so impractical! Elizabeth thought. She fell in and out of love at the wink of an eye, much to the dismay of her crowd of admirers, and her interest in her hobbies was equally passionate and short-lived. She would throw herself into something, such as gourmet cooking, and a few weeks later she would forget all about it. Elizabeth, on the other hand, knew exactly what she wanted to devote her spare time to: writing. That was why she spent long hours after school, working on The Oracle, the school newspaper, for which she wrote the "Eyes and Ears" column, keeping her classmates abreast of the latest gossip at Sweet Valley High.

  "We need something really different," Jessica was saying now, tossing her silky hair off her shoulder. "That's what we said at our last meeting. Only no one could come up with anything special."

  "That's right," Cara Walker chimed in, her brown eyes thoughtful. Pretty, dark-haired Cara was on the cheerleading squad with Jessica. "And we're really desperate for money," she added. "We've got to get new uniforms. The ones we've been wearing are almost in rags!"

  "You can say that again," Lila Fowler agreed, making a face as she pushed her light brown hair back from her face.

  "How about the Fowler Fund for Uniform Rehabilitation?" Winston cracked slyly.

  Lila glared at him. She hated being teased about the fact that her father was one of the wealthiest men in Southern California. "This is serious, Winston," she said coldly. "You don't have to be rude. Besides," she added with a pout, "I'm sure Daddy would say that the cheerleaders should work for the money. He says it builds character."

  Elizabeth could barely suppress a giggle, especially when she saw the expression on Enid Rollins's face—a cross between a grimace and a smirk. Enid was Elizabeth's dearest friend and confidante, and Elizabeth knew that Enid was probably thinking that Lila had never done a day's work in her life.

  "So what's your idea, Jess?" Cara cut in. "I hope it's good. You're sure giving it a big buildup."

  "Well, what do you think of this?" Jessica said dramatically, stepping back from the table and spreading out her arms as if to present an imaginary spectacle. "A rocking chair relay in the gym. Each girl on the squad will take turns rocking, and we'll sign up pledges in advance for every thirty minutes we rock. It'll be a scream, the most original fund-raising event in years!"

  Cara frowned. "Rocking chairs? Jess, I think you're off your rocker! It's so"—she paused, thinking—"peculiar!"

  "Don't be a spoilsport," Jessica reproached her. "It'll be great! We can use my parents' big old rocking chair. We'll take turns rocking, and the others can"—she thought for a few moments—"have a good time at the party that'll be going on at the same time!" she said triumphantly.

  "What sort of party?" Enid asked, intrigued.

  "We'll call it the Rock Around the Clock relay!" Jessica exclaimed, her eyes twinkling. "Maybe we can get The Droids to play for us, too. It'll be just like a school dance, only a million times better!"

  Winston pretended to collapse on the table. "Give us a break, Jess. We just got through with that blowout picnic of yours. We need some rest!"

  Jessica laughed. Winston was referring to the picnic she had organized as part of the recent Sweet Valley Centennial Celebration. The entire celebration had been a smashing success, and Jessica was proud of how well the picnic had turned out.

  "I think the relay's a great idea," Elizabeth said loyally. "It sure is original. Besides, I'll bet The Droids would be happy for an excuse to make a big appearance soon. Did you hear they're going to announce a contest to find a new hit song?"

  Enid's eyebrows lifted. The Droids were one of the most popular young bands in the area. Although they were still only juniors in high school, they had received a good deal of attention.

  "I heard Guy Chesney talking about that," Jessica said, plopping down in her chair again and taking a bite out of her apple. "He said he wants to find something new—kind of a signature song. He said a great song can make a band!"

  "That's for sure," Enid said. "A good song can be all it takes."

  "So when's this big Rock Around the Clock relay supposed to take place?" Winston demanded, putting down his notebook.

  Jessica sniffed. "None of you seems very interested," she said sulkily. "If I can't even get any support from my very own friends—my very own squadmates," she added, frowning at Cara.

  "Jess, it's a marvelous idea," Elizabeth said warmly. "You can count on all of us to pledge money. R
ight, guys?"

  "Right!" everyone chimed in.

  Jessica looked mollified. "I was thinking we should try to have it soon. We need the money right away, and if everyone on the squad gets going, I don't see why we can't have it next weekend. How does a week from Saturday night sound?"

  Elizabeth laughed. Seeing her sister's organizational tactics at work was always interesting. "Why are you asking us?" she demanded. "Don't you think you'd better ask The Droids and check with the office about using the gym?"

  "Good point!" Jessica exclaimed, jumping to her feet again. "I'm so lucky to have a genius for a twin!" The next minute she was off, dashing away in such a hurry that she almost smashed into a girl who was walking slowly toward her, head lowered. "Watch out!" Jessica exclaimed, shaking her head in irritation as she headed off in the direction of the office.

  "Liz, what's that girl's name?" Enid asked in a low voice, leaning forward to get a better look as the girl lifted her head, gazed about her with a look of confusion and unhappiness, then lowered her head again, and walked slowly to a table.

  "Her name is Sherry, isn't it?" Winston asked.

  "What an unfortunate outfit she has on, whoever she is," Lila commented with a yawn.

  Elizabeth frowned. "It isn't Sherry," she said. "It's Lynne Henry. She's kind of quiet," she added. Recently Elizabeth had been noticing the tall, reclusive junior and wondering what she was like.

  "Lynne Henry!" Enid exclaimed, snapping her fingers. "I keep seeing her around, but I couldn't remember her name. She's in two of my classes, but she never says a word. She's like a ghost or something. She just kind of drifts in at the last minute, sits really quietly in her seat, and leaves when the bell rings. She never talks to anyone."

  "I don't think she has any friends," Elizabeth said sadly.

  "She doesn't look very appealing," Lila said disparagingly. "I can't imagine who would want to be friends with someone like her."

  "Lila," Winston chided her, "haven't you got a single kind bone in your whole body?"

  Lila grimaced. "Look at her, though. She's just sitting there, staring at her sandwich like she's in another world or something."

  Elizabeth turned to follow Lila's gaze. Sure enough, Lynne Henry was sitting alone, elbows propped up on the empty table, her face expressionless.

  Elizabeth felt a tiny shiver go through her. "She must be lonely," she said softly, watching the girl take a bite of her sandwich and chew it automatically, as if she couldn't even taste it. Elizabeth couldn't imagine eating lunch by herself, sitting alone in the crowded lunchroom while everyone else talked and laughed.

  The girl's expression looked so unwelcoming, though, so stony. Elizabeth wondered what she was thinking. Sighing, Elizabeth turned back to her friends, her eyes thoughtful.

  But she only half-heard what Winston was saying about his history test. She was wondering about Lynne Henry.

  The thing is, Lynne was telling herself, I just have to act as if I don't care. If I can tell myself that, everything's going to be OK.

  She hated lunch time. The rest of the day was all right—not spectacular, but not terrible, either. She had gotten so used to the routine at school that she could practically get through the day as if she were sleepwalking. And sometimes that was what it felt like, too.

  But lunchtime was awful. She felt self-conscious getting into the cafeteria line by herself. Everyone else waited for friends, joked around, made conversation. Nobody said anything to Lynne, though. She might as well have been invisible.

  Lynne had opened the brown lunch bag her mother had packed for her and automatically unwrapped the sandwich. She had taken a bite, telling herself the sooner she finished it, the quicker she could go back to the library. If the librarians would have let her, she would have eaten lunch there. But food was forbidden in the library. "Lunchtime is supposed to be relaxing," the head librarian had told her once with a smile. "Why don't you go meet some of your friends?"

  And what was I supposed to say to that? Lynne thought miserably, putting her sandwich down with a frown. That I don't have any friends? That I'm a total nobody?

  Until Lynne had started high school, she hadn't really believed that. She had told herself things would get better when she was a little older, when people stopped caring so much about who was pretty, who was in with the "right" crowd, all that.

  But now that Lynne was a junior, she didn't have any delusions any more. People didn't want to be friends with her. They didn't even notice she existed! She just kind of faded into the background.

  Picking her sandwich up again, Lynne remembered the day the week before in her English class when Mr. Collins had read a poem out loud. She liked English, and she liked Mr. Collins. He looked like a movie star. He had reddish-blond hair and a warm smile, and he was really young. Everyone liked him. But more important, he had actually complimented Lynne several times, writing nice things at the end of the compositions she wrote. Once he had written that she seemed to have a natural flair for writing. That had made her glow for days. If only he knew how much that meant to her!

  But she still got a bad taste in her mouth when she remembered the sound of Mr. Collins's voice, reading the Emily Dickinson poem out loud:

  "I'm nobody! Who are you?

  Are you nobody, too?"

  She had sat up with a start, shaken out of her daydream, her heart pounding. "I'm nobody! Who are you?" It was as if Mr. Collins had found her diary and read it out loud. She could have written those lines. It was as if her own inner voice were speaking!

  Mr. Collins had continued to read, his rich voice bringing the poem to life. Then he had put the book down and asked the students what they thought of the poem. And one by one, hands had gone up. Opinions were voiced. Lynne had just sat there, praying the bell would ring. She had never felt so terrible before. I'm nobody, she kept thinking. What a depressing thing to say. How could Emily Dickinson have written that?

  She hadn't heard anything else Mr. Collins said. She was daydreaming again, imagining she was upstairs in her bedroom at home, with the door closed, playing her guitar. She could practically feel the strings under her fingers. Lynne adored the guitar. When she played, she didn't feel like a nobody.

  But there was still the rest of the lunch hour to get through and the rest of the long, dragging afternoon before she could get on the bus and go home. Lynne put her sandwich down again, her eyes filling with tears.

  "Lynne!" a male voice called, interrupting her reverie.

  Lynne's eyes widened in disbelief, her heart beginning to hammer. Turning around, she saw Keith Webster, the good-looking forward on the basketball team, waving frantically across the room. At her? Her mouth dry, she started to get to her feet.

  "I'm coming, silly!" a high-pitched voice behind her called back, and Lynne Jacobs, a sophomore with shiny black hair and a glowing complexion, raced across the cafeteria and linked arms with Keith.

  Lynne sank back down into her chair, the color draining from her face. She didn't know why she had kidded herself that way. She wasn't Lynne. She was nobody.

  Two

  The crowd waiting for the bus after school seemed even more animated than usual. It seemed that way to Lynne, anyway, who was standing off by herself, her backpack slung over one shoulder, her eyes on the pavement.

  "Dance with me, Caroline!" Winston Egbert crooned, stepping gallantly forward and greeting Caroline Pearce with a mock bow. The redhead burst into giggles.

  "You're too much, Winston," she said merrily, clearly loving the attention.

  "I'm serious," Winston protested. "Let's do the I'm-waiting-for-the-bus two-step. It's one of my favorites."

  Still giggling, Caroline took Winston's hand, and the two made a halfhearted attempt to repeat the steps they had learned in ballroom dancing the year before. They were both laughing.

  The crowd began cheering. "That Winston," a sophomore girl said, grabbing her boyfriend by the hand.

  "Madam, your golden chariot approacheth," Winston
was saying to Caroline, bowing again and pointing to the yellow school bus.

  Lynne's heart began to pound. It was so stupid to make a big deal out of something as ordinary as a bus ride home. But she hated riding the bus. It seemed as if everyone else had someone to sit with. It reminded her of the game they used to play when they were kids. When the music stopped playing, everyone grabbed a place to sit. Everyone, that was, but the loser. The odd man out.

  Or in this case, the odd girl out. From now on, Lynne decided suddenly, she was going to walk to school. She couldn't stand this anymore.

  Soon the bus was filled with chattering, laughing students. Sighing, Lynne sat down next to the window, her backpack on her lap. Just ten more minutes, she told herself. Then she would be home, and another long day would be safely behind her.

  Lynne barely noticed when Caroline sank down in the seat next to her, her arms spilling over with books and papers. Lynne was staring out the window, her brow wrinkling with concentration. Sometimes, even on a crowded, noisy bus, Lynne could concentrate so hard that she could hear music in her head. Not music she knew, but the start of something, a new song. It was her secret, and it made it easier to be alone. If people knew, they would probably laugh at her, she thought uneasily. But no one was going to find out.

  Ever since she was a little girl Lynne Henry had dreamed of one thing, and one thing only: becoming a famous songwriter. When she was a kid, she was always begging her mother to let her take music lessons. She was always humming to herself, making up little songs when she was in the bathtub or taking a walk. She loved to sing. And her voice teacher said she had talent! When she was young, Lynne had wanted to be a performer as well as a songwriter. She had dreamed of being up on a huge stage, belting out song after song, dazzling the audience.

  But as Lynne grew older, she realized she wasn't ever going to get up on any stage. And no one was going to applaud her performance, either. It was one thing to fantasize when she was a kid, an ugly duckling. But this duckling had never turned into a swan, she reminded herself grimly. Just an ugly duck. And who wanted to pay to see an ugly duck on stage?