Miss Teen Sweet Valley Read online

  "Hi, Jess," Steven said, surfacing on the other side of the sparkling blue-green water and tossing his head to shake the water from his face. Steven had been spending a lot of time at home lately, partly because it was easier to see Cara and partly because he was working on a special project and needed a quiet place to study. According to Steven, the dorm was a zoo.

  Jessica was uncomfortably aware that Frazer, who had sun-bleached blond hair, broad shoulders, expressive brown eyes, and skin bronzed by days at the beach, didn't seem to notice that she looked fantastic in her black two-piece suit. When he said hi, he might have been talking to the patio furniture for all the interest he showed.

  Jessica's heart took a dip, then soared again. There was no reason to worry. Once she'd landed the Miss Teen Sweet Valley title, Frazer would never ignore her again. Settling back to resume her sunbathing, Jessica tried to appear bored and uninterested, but her pulse was pounding. She watched through her thick lashes as Steven and his friend enjoyed their morning swim.

  Snatches of conversation reached her ears as the guys left the pool and began drying themselves off with towels they'd brought from the house.

  "Cara and I are going out for pizza and a movie tonight," Steven said to his friend. "Why don't you call Monica Crane or somebody and come with us?"

  Jessica felt a sting. She wondered about Monica Crane, and what it was about her that put her in the running for a date with a hunk like Frazer.

  "Can't," Frazer answered, his muscles rippling as he towel-dried his hair, then his arms and shoulders. "My kid sister has a dance recital, and I promised I'd be there."

  He spoke with a sort of quiet pride. Jessica's attention, already focused on Frazer, was intensified, like sunlight shining through a magnifying glass.

  Steven was already headed toward the patio doors. "That's great," he said, though Jessica suspected he wasn't really any more interested in the things Frazer's younger sister did than Frazer was in Jessica and Elizabeth's activities. "What kind of dancing does she do?"

  "Modern," Frazer said just before he and Steven disappeared into the house. And in that moment, Jessica's choice of modern dance for her talent number became definite. Now, not only would her dancing impress the judges, it would impress Frazer, too. He seemed proud of his sister's accomplishments, and the fact that Jessica had something important in common with her had to work in her favor.

  Jessica turned onto her stomach, rested her cheek on her hands, and dozed off. She dreamed she was walking into the Dairi Burger hand in hand with Frazer McConnell. She looked terrific in a glamorous evening gown and the winner's sash, the Miss Teen Sweet Valley crown gleaming on her head. In her free arm she carried a huge bouquet of roses.

  Elizabeth Wakefield's normally even temper simmered that following Monday morning when she and Enid arrived at school and found the hallway walls practically papered in announcements about the upcoming beauty pageant.

  "They're really going to do it," Elizabeth muttered, shaking her head. "They're going to hold that silly, sexist contest right here at Sweet Valley High, in our own auditorium!"

  Enid sighed and shrugged. "I plan to ignore the whole thing."

  Elizabeth opened her locker door and hung her shoulder bag on the hook inside. "Sometimes you have to stand up for what you believe in," she said quietly. "You can't just sit back and let things happen."

  "I suppose you're right," Enid answered. "So what do you plan to do?"

  Elizabeth had already asked herself that question. In fact, she'd been thinking about it all weekend: while she and Todd swam at the beach, while they played miniature golf on Friday night, and even while they watched movies at Todd's on Saturday. "We'll organize a protest committee," she said decisively as she and Enid entered their first class of the day. "I'll write an article for The Oracle, too, about how beauty contests exploit women."

  Just then Todd came into the classroom. He followed the girls to their seats and sat down next to Elizabeth.

  "What exploits women?" he asked.

  "Beauty pageants do," Elizabeth answered with conviction. Even as she spoke, her ideas were gathering steam. "They focus on all the wrong things, too. How a person looks instead of who she is and how she—"

  Todd grinned and held up both hands in comical surrender. "You don't have to convince me, Liz. I'm on your side."

  The room was filling up with other students, and a lot of the girls were talking about the pageant.

  "We'll go to the mall and the library," Elizabeth announced decisively, "and collect signatures protesting the use of the school auditorium—which, of course, belongs to the taxpayers—for such a ridiculous purpose. And we'll get the students and teachers at Sweet Valley High to sign."

  "The people speak," Todd said with a grin.

  Elizabeth had a hard time keeping her mind on classwork that day, and right after school she hurried to The Oracle office. She was sitting at her desk, making notes for the article she planned to write, when she looked up and saw Dana Larson and Olivia Davidson standing in front of her, smiling.

  Dana was an unconventional type, the lead singer of Sweet Valley High's popular rock band, The Droids. Olivia was a talented painter who also handled the arts column for The Oracle.

  "She's got that look about her," Dana said.

  Olivia folded her arms and pretended to study Elizabeth seriously. "Yes," she agreed. "I'd know the Liz-on-the-warpath look anywhere. She's preparing to do journalistic battle."

  Elizabeth grinned and spread her hands. "You caught me. What can I say?"

  Dana perched on the edge of Elizabeth's desk. "You can tell us which cause has you so worked up."

  "It's that beauty pageant the Chamber of Commerce is holding," Elizabeth answered, her smile fading away to an annoyed frown. "It's bad enough that they're sponsoring the thing at all, but to drag all of Sweet Valley High into it by using our auditorium . . . well, it just really bugs me."

  "I agree," Olivia said. She pulled up a chair and pushed graceful, artistic fingers through her curly brown hair. "The statement it makes is totally wrong."

  Dana nodded. "You've got my support too, Liz."

  "Great," Elizabeth said. "Let's try to get some other student volunteers to collect signatures on a petition."

  "We could march in front of the courthouse," Olivia suggested, and Elizabeth knew her friend was already designing picket signs in her mind.

  "And the supermarket," Dana added.

  "And the library," Elizabeth put in.

  With that the protest committee was born, and Elizabeth Wakefield was in her element—planning, organizing, directing. If she had anything to say about it, the pageant would be called off and the dignity of Sweet Valley womanhood would be preserved.

  Lively music filled the boutique, making the walls and ceiling of the dressing room vibrate. Jessica hummed along as she admired the way the white leotard and tights she was wearing emphasized her suntan.

  She had to admit it, she looked gorgeous. She smiled at her image, then hastily changed back into jeans and a white ruffled camisole. Buying the outfit would mean parting with a major chunk of her allowance, but Jessica reasoned that a woman had to be willing to make investments in her future.

  After carefully combing her hair and touching up her lip gloss, Jessica came out of the dressing room, paid the clerk, and left the shop. She crossed the mall's wide concourse to Simple Splendor, where she spent an hour and a half going through the racks and trying things on. Once she'd decided which outfits she was going to choose on her shopping spree, she smiled charmingly at the baffled saleswoman and set out for the parking lot.

  She was so happy and excited that it seemed her feet were barely skimming the asphalt. In just a few weeks she would be the envy of every girl at Sweet Valley High.

  It was a very warm day, and Steven's car was in the driveway again when Jessica arrived home. Maybe he'd brought Frazer with him and they were taking a swim even now.

  Mrs. Wakefield was tearing spinach l
eaves for a salad when Jessica entered the kitchen a minute or two later. Jessica was disappointed that there had been no sign of Frazer when she looked out at the pool.

  "Hi, honey," Alice Wakefield said, glancing at the shopping bag in Jessica's hand. "Buy something new?"

  Jessica nodded. She would announce her participation in the beauty pageant when the moment was exactly right, and not a minute before. "Nothing spectacular," she said.

  Mrs. Wakefield reached for a colander full of tomatoes and began to slice them into juicy wedges. "Elizabeth will be late for dinner. She's working on some project for The Oracle. But Steven brought Frazer home with him, so we'll still need five place settings. Would you take care of setting the table, please?"

  Jessica smiled brightly. "Sure," she agreed with uncharacteristic readiness. "I'll just put this bag in my room, then I'll be right down."

  Mrs. Wakefield looked a little surprised at Jessica's willingness to help out, but she recovered quickly. She reached for a cucumber to slice and said, "Good."

  As Jessica passed Steven's room she heard the stereo blaring, and grinned. Frazer didn't know it yet, but in a matter of weeks he was going to be absolutely crazy about her.

  By the time Elizabeth got home from her long meeting with Penny Ayala, editor-in-chief of The Oracle, Todd, Enid, Dana, Olivia, Maria, and Winston, dinner was over, the dishwasher was whirring away, and the whole family had gone their separate ways.

  Her dad, a partner in a prominent law firm, was in his study going over some notes for a case, and she found her mother upstairs in the master bedroom studying drawings of a new design project. Jessica was shut up in her room, music pounding against the door as if it were trying to escape.

  Elizabeth felt a headache coming on, but when she stepped into her own room she felt a little better. It was quiet, tastefully decorated, and impeccably neat.

  She set her notebook down on the square table that served as a desk. Hearing a series of thumps from Jessica's room even louder than the throb of the music, she frowned and went through the bathroom to knock at her sister's door.

  "Jess?"

  There was no answer. Little wonder, Elizabeth thought. The stereo was playing at a decibel level that would raise the dead. Elizabeth opened the door and stepped into her sister's room.

  Jessica was standing in the middle of her bedroom floor which, as always, was littered with clothes, towels, and books. She was wearing a white dance outfit and moving expressively to the music. Actually, she looked pretty graceful, and although Elizabeth wondered what her sister was doing, she was too tired to pursue the matter. Besides, she felt like a spy standing there.

  Elizabeth slipped back out and returned to her own room to write a long entry in her journal.

  As soon as her last class let out the next afternoon, Jessica hurried to the parking lot and slid behind the wheel of the red Fiat Spider she shared with Elizabeth.

  She started the engine, put the small car in gear, and headed for downtown Sweet Valley. She passed the courthouse and pulled to a stop in front of the small building that housed the Chamber of Commerce. She pulled the keys from the ignition and dropped them into her purse.

  After checking her hair and lip gloss in the rearview mirror, Jessica got out of the car and went inside the building.

  "I'm here to sign up for the beauty pageant," she told the receptionist, who greeted her with a smile.

  The woman had her pegged for a sure winner, Jessica could tell.

  "Just fill this out, please," said the receptionist. She handed Jessica a couple of forms, a pen, and a clipboard. "We'll need a black-and-white photograph for the newspaper, and there is a small entry fee. Oh, and one of your parents will need to sign a permission slip."

  Jessica nodded. She hoped the entry fee wouldn't be beyond her somewhat limited means. Jessica walked over to a folding chair against the wall and sat down to fill out the main form. She would return later with the signed permission slip and the black-and-white photograph. She would ask Lila to take the picture with her fancy camera. Elizabeth was into photography and had recently joined the photography club, but Jessica preferred not to tell her sister why she wanted her picture taken. Not yet, anyway.

  As it happened, Jessica had the amount of money required for the entry fee, and when she left the Chamber of Commerce's offices that afternoon she was well on her way to being officially entered in the Miss Teen Sweet Valley contest. The permission slip, along with a sheaf of papers listing the rules and regulations of the pageant, were stuffed into her purse.

  When Jessica got home Elizabeth was in the kitchen taking her turn at fixing dinner. Jessica was tempted to share the news of her imminent reign over Sweet Valley, but memories of Elizabeth's disparaging comments in the cafeteria stopped her. She was keeping her entry in the pageant from her friends for strategic purposes, to throw them off guard. And for a while longer she would keep her entry a secret from Elizabeth, too. Her sister would find out soon enough.

  "Hi, Liz," she said, almost sighing the words. "What's for dinner?"

  "Grilled chicken," Elizabeth answered with her usual smile. She looked a little tired to Jessica, and maybe a bit worried, too. But because Jessica had preoccupations of her own, she didn't ask about Elizabeth's.

  "Ummm," Jessica replied. "Sounds terrific."

  At dinner Mr. Wakefield talked about his current case, and Mrs. Wakefield described a new design project she and her partner, Doug, were working on. Steven finished his food, carried his plate back to the kitchen, and went off to spend some time with Cara. Elizabeth ate quietly. She seemed to have something serious on her mind.

  Jessica decided it wasn't quite the time to spring the good news on her family.

  Three

  At school the next day everybody was talking about Elizabeth's campaign to stop the Chamber of Commerce from sponsoring the beauty pageant. Jessica was annoyed, but not worried. She was destined to be Miss Teen Sweet Valley; she could feel it in her blood.

  That night when the Wakefields gathered for dinner, Elizabeth was in a thoughtful mood.

  In spite of Elizabeth's feelings regarding the beauty pageant, Jessica decided it was time to make the announcement. After all, she was almost an official contestant. She'd done the really important footwork, like signing up for the pageant, buying the leotard and tights, and deciding on the music for her dance. Besides, she couldn't keep her participation a secret forever. She needed one of her parents' signatures on the permission slip.

  "Have you heard that the Chamber of Commerce is choosing a Miss Teen Sweet Valley this year?" she asked innocently, smiling to herself because she knew just how Elizabeth was going to react.

  Elizabeth looked up. "That's what I was going to ask."

  "I've entered," Jessica blurted out at the precise moment Elizabeth said, "I'm organizing a protest committee."

  Elizabeth stared at her sister in horror. "You're entering?"

  "Everybody take cover," Steven put in with a grin, "here comes the fallout."

  Elizabeth folded her table napkin and set it aside. "I don't believe it," she said, and Jessica knew by her tone that she was making an effort to speak calmly. "Beauty pageants are demeaning to women. They should be outlawed."

  "Outlawed?" Jessica protested. "Demeaning? Now, wait a minute. How can being chosen prettiest, smartest, and most talented be demeaning?"

  "You think parading up and down a runway in a bathing suit and high heels is dignified?" Elizabeth asked sarcastically.

  Mr. Wakefield cleared his throat. "Just a minute, girls," he said quietly. "You each have a right to your own opinion."

  Jessica glared at her sister. It wasn't the first time she and Elizabeth had been on opposite sides of a controversy. In fact, because their outlooks on life were so different, it happened often. But something about Elizabeth's attitude stung. Jessica felt put down, like she had in the cafeteria when Elizabeth's friends were mocking beauty pageant contestants.

  "I don't think I'm hungry any
more," Jessica said in a chilly tone. "May I please be excused?"

  Mrs. Wakefield nodded and exchanged a glance with her husband. Jessica pushed back her chair as if to leave the table.

  But she couldn't quite bring herself to leave without having the final word. "If you ruin this for me, Elizabeth Wakefield, I'll never forgive you."

  "If I have anything to say about it," Elizabeth answered coolly, "there won't be a beauty pageant in Sweet Valley. Not this year, not next year, not ever."

  "Incoming mortar fire," Steven warned, amused.

  Jessica knew there was no sense in arguing with Elizabeth while her twin was in such a stubborn state of mind. Jessica went to her room and closed the door hard behind her.

  Elizabeth stopped a woman pushing a baby stroller through the crowded mall. "Excuse me," she said with a friendly smile. "I'm Elizabeth Wakefield, and I'd like to get your opinion on something."

  The young mother returned Elizabeth's smile, but she looked tired. "Yes?"

  Elizabeth offered the clipboard and pen she was holding. "My friends and I are collecting signatures to protest the use of the auditorium at Sweet Valley High for a beauty pageant." She indicated Penny, Olivia, Enid, Dana, and Claire Middleton, who were also stopping passers-by. "We think contests like this set women back a hundred years."

  "I kind of enjoy watching pageants on TV," the woman said, pushing her wispy bangs back off her forehead with one hand.

  "The question is," Elizabeth replied earnestly, "do we really want to encourage the idea that looks are the most important quality a woman can have? What about personal initiative? What about persistence, intelligence, skill?"

  The baby in the stroller began to cry, and the young mother took the pen and clipboard from Elizabeth with a sigh. "You're right, I suppose," she said as she signed.

  Elizabeth thanked her and turned to stop a distinguished-looking businessman in a tailored suit.

  "Excuse me, sir. . . ."

  About fifteen minutes had passed when Amy Sutton appeared, walking hand in hand with her boyfriend, Barry Rork, a member of the Sweet Valley High tennis team.