Jealous Lies Page 3

  "What I mean is this," Jean said, her green eyes shining with intensity. "It's like some kind of lucky spell's been put on me. I know that sounds ridiculous, but it's true." She giggled. "Penny Ayala is on the dance committee for the Friday the Thirteenth dance a week from tonight, and she asked Dana Larson and me to start off the dancing because we both have birthdays that day. That's supposed to be unlucky, isn't it?" She giggled again. "But ever since you nominated me for Pi Beta, I've never felt so lucky."

  "What do you mean?" Sandra asked again, staring at her.

  "Well, for one thing, my father told me a few days ago that a bond my grandparents bought for me years ago has matured, and he gave me a hundred dollars, just out of the blue! So I'm going to buy something special to wear tomorrow night. Then," she continued, "I got an A on my history exam. You know how busy I've been with cheerleading and everything. I didn't even have time to study. But the essay question was on the only thing I knew about, the Civil War."

  Sandra took a sip of her diet soda. "You're always lucky, Jeanie," she said gloomily.

  Jean shook her head. "Well, that's not all," she said. "The luckiest thing has been getting stuck with Tom McKay for tomorrow night. Do you realize we actually had a decent talk when he called me? He's really nice, too."

  Sandra pushed her soda away in disgust. "So he's looking forward to Cara's party, huh?"

  Jean nodded. "Apparently! And you know something, Sandy, so am I. To be honest with you, I wasn't exactly big on the idea of Tom when you told me he was my assignment. But he's really OK." Her eyes twinkled. "Who knows? I might really start to like him!"

  Sandra sighed heavily. This was even worse than she had expected. How was she going to convince Tom to ditch Jean if he was counting the minutes until Cara's party?

  "He even wants to go out to get something to eat first," Jean confided. "He's going to pick me up early because the party starts at eight-thirty, right?"

  Sandra nodded. She was only listening with half an ear. The last thing she had expected was that Tom McKay and Jean would actually like each other!

  "Isn't he really obsessed with sports, though?" Sandra objected. "I thought you hated jocks."

  As Jean tucked her legs up underneath her, a little smile played about her lips. "I don't know," she murmured. "Maybe I was a little hasty, Sandy. All I know is that I'm not dreading tomorrow night half as much as I thought I would be!"

  Well, there goes that, Sandra thought. Unless she did something drastic, it looked as if Tom was going to do exactly what Jean wanted him to do the following night.

  Sandra felt terrible. She just couldn't let it happen! If doing something drastic was the only way to keep Jean out of Pi Beta Alpha, then Sandra was prepared to do something drastic.

  It looked as though her only option was to find Tom the next day and drop a couple of significant hints about Cara's party.

  Maybe if he realized his dream date was only using him, he'd be a little less excited about being her escort!

  "Steve, do you have any idea how good it is to have you home again?" Elizabeth asked.

  Steven leaned over to rumple her hair, his dark eyes twinkling. "It isn't half bad being home, either," he said. "Especially around dinner time! I'm telling you, that dorm food makes a hunger strike sound appealing."

  The Wakefields were sitting out on the patio in the twilight, eating barbecued chicken and asking Steven questions about college life. Jessica was the only one who was quiet. Taking a mouthful of salad, she sneaked a look at her brother, wondering when he was planning to spill the big news. She couldn't help thinking how good Steven looked. Broad-shouldered and dark-haired, he had the kind of casual good looks that made people naturally gravitate to him. With his pleasant manners and excellent sense of humor, he had always been popular. He would be a natural on an ocean liner, Jessica thought suddenly. She couldn't believe she had been skeptical before. All the same, she knew her parents were going to be upset about his decision.

  But Jessica was not prepared for how upset her parents were when Steven broached the subject of leaving college.

  "Steve, you're not serious," Mrs. Wakefield said, her blue eyes narrowing with concern. "You're only a freshman. You've barely given college a chance!"

  "Mom, I'm sick of studying," Steven said earnestly. "I don't mind school, but I feel I want something more—experience, a chance to see the world! I've been in school all my life," he complained. "I really feel ready to leave and get a job."

  Mr. Wakefield frowned. "You know, Steve, the way things are today, it's harder and harder to get a job without special training of one kind or another. Don't you think leaving college now would jeopardize your chances of finding a good job?"

  Steven shook his head. "That's the great thing. I've already got a job all lined up!"

  Mr. and Mrs. Wakefield exchanged worried glances. "What kind of job?" Mrs. Wakefield asked.

  "You know my roommate, Bob, right? Well, his father owns an ocean liner called the Bellefleur. You guys should see it. It's the most beautiful ship in the whole world. He runs cruises from Los Angeles to the Far East and then on around the world. Bob says I can get a job on the ship!"

  "I don't want to dispel your enthusiasm," Mr. Wakefield said dryly, "but exactly what sort of job would it be?"

  Steven shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe being a bartender, maybe a waiter. Nothing fancy, but an opportunity like this comes along once in a lifetime. I'd get to see the whole world!"

  Mr. Wakefield smiled. "That reminds me of a joke I heard the other day. One guy says, 'My daughter went around the world this summer.' And the other guy says, 'Oh, really? Where's she going next summer?' "

  Mrs. Wakefield sighed. "Ned, this isn't exactly a joking matter. I think Steve's serious about this."

  "Of course I'm serious," Steven broke in. "I've already talked to my adviser at school. I'll go back to school next week. The following week I'll sign the contract with Mr. Rose. He's out of town right now. Then I'll pack up my things and sail a few days after that!"

  "What about Cara?" Elizabeth asked, obviously shocked by her brother's announcement.

  Steven frowned. "She's having a hard time accepting it," he admitted. "But I'm hoping I can talk to her about it and help her understand that it's really the best thing for me right now. It'll be hard, being separated, but—"

  "Steven," Mr. Wakefield said sternly, "I think you, your mother, and I need to discuss this alone. This isn't the sort of thing you rush into, you understand. Nobody's getting on any ocean liner before we've all had some very serious discussions."

  Steven got to his feet. "I do understand, Dad," he said softly. "But my mind is made up. This is my life, not yours or Mom's. And no one's going to stop me from sailing on the Bellefleur. No one."

  The next minute he had crossed the patio and entered the house, closing the sliding glass door quietly but firmly behind him.

  "What are we going to do?" Mrs. Wakefield cried, distraught.

  Mr. Wakefield frowned. "It may just be a phase," he said, not sounding very hopeful. "Or maybe something's wrong at school. If we can talk to him . . . "

  "I think it's an excellent idea," Jessica protested. "Why shouldn't he sail around the world? I wouldn't mind going, myself."

  Mrs. Wakefield glared at her. "Jess, try to be a little sensitive, OK? This isn't a joking matter."

  "Mom," Elizabeth said, a thoughtful expression on her face, "remember when you got that job offer in San Francisco and Jessica and I ambushed you and Daddy with propaganda about Sweet Valley, trying to convince you to stay?"

  Mrs. Wakefield looked perplexed. "Of course I do, honey." She smiled. "You two were pretty darn persuasive, too, though that wasn't the reason I didn't take the job."

  "Listen," Elizabeth said earnestly, "maybe we should try a little bit of the same medicine on Steve—only let's try a little reverse psychology this time."

  "What do you mean?" Mr. Wakefield asked, looking skeptical.

  "Jess is the one who gave me the idea." Elizabeth said, sounding excited. "Her response is exactly the right line to take. Instead of getting all upset about Steve's decision, maybe we should all act like it's no big deal. Let's approve of it one hundred percent. In fact," she added with a giggle, "the surprise party we've been planning for a week from tomorrow can be a bon voyage party instead. If he thinks we're all behind him . . . "

  Jessica's face lit up. "Liz is right," she said enthusiastically. "He probably came home expecting everyone to throw a fit. Instead, we should all encourage him to go! Mom, you can take him shopping for luggage. I'll talk to Cara and convince her to act like she couldn't care less if he goes."

  Mr. Wakefield began to smile. "The kids just might be right, Alice," he admitted. "Steve may be feeling as though he needs to prove he's old enough to do what he wants. If we don't put up any opposition, the idea of dropping out of school may lose its appeal."

  Mrs. Wakefield looked worried. "I don't know," she said anxiously. "What if he goes ahead and does it anyway? Then all we'll have done is make his departure easier."

  Elizabeth shook her head. "Trust us, Mom," she said. "As long as we all go along with it and no one says a single negative thing about his plans, I guarantee Steve will change his mind faster than you can say 'drop out'!"

  "Well," Mrs. Wakefield said at last, "I guess it's worth a try."

  Elizabeth jumped to her feet.

  "Where are you going?" Jessica demanded.

  Elizabeth grinned. "Oh, just upstairs," she said casually. "I want to see if Steve needs help packing, and if he wants to borrow my camera while he's away!"

  Jessica giggled, catching on. "I'd better see if he wants me to buy him some airmail stationery. He's going to need it, since that's the only way he'll be able to keep i
n touch with anyone from the middle of the Pacific."

  The next minute the twins were hurrying inside. Elizabeth couldn't wait to put their scheme into action. She was almost positive Steven wouldn't want to go once he had faced the implications of dropping out of college and leaving home.

  The only question was whether or not the Wakefields could make him change his mind in the one week he was spending at home before going back to Mr. Rose to sign the contract.

  Five

  Sandra parked her mother's Toyota in front of the Valley Mall entrance, then checked her reflection in the rearview mirror. Sandra was so nervous her heart was pounding. She had never done anything like this before. Two-thirty, the digital clock on the dashboard said. Tom ought to be through with lunch by now, and with any luck the Tennis Shop would be fairly empty. It was such a beautiful afternoon, too beautiful to be inside.

  Ten minutes later Sandra was pretending to inspect a frilly tennis dress inside the store. The shop was divided into two parts. The front half of the store was filled with clothes racks crammed with tennis clothes of every color and style. Tennis shoes lined one wall. The back of the store was where tennis rackets and balls were sold. Dropping the price tag on the dress, Sandra caught sight of Tom emerging from the storeroom, his arms laden with rackets. Pretending she hadn't seen him, Sandra moved over to look at shoes.

  "Can I help you, miss?" Tom said behind her.

  Sandra turned around, her eyebrows shooting up with feigned surprise. "Tom! I completely forgot you worked here."

  Tom smiled. "I didn't know you were a tennis fan, Sandy. Are you looking for a pair of shoes?"

  "They're for my mother, actually," Sandra lied, picking up the nearest pair. "Can I see these in a size seven?"

  "Sure," Tom said. A few minutes later he emerged from the back room and took the tennis shoes out of their box. "You think these will do?"

  Sandra looked at the shoes, wiping her palms on her shorts. How could she change the subject from tennis shoes? She was so bad at this sort of thing! "I wish I could play," she said lamely, "but I'm so busy—between cheerleading and Pi Beta Alpha . . . "

  Tom looked interested. "Jean mentioned she wanted to get into Pi Beta," he said. "Is it a big deal?"

  Sandra thought fast. "Well, yes and no," she said, fiddling with the lace on one of the shoes. "Pledging can be pretty grueling for some girls. They have to do all sorts of tasks. You know," she added, trying to sound casual, "sometimes it's even things like getting a guy to be your date who seems impossible. Or wearing a silly outfit to school—something like that."

  Tom stared at her, an uneasy expression crossing his face. "How long does the pledge period last?"

  "Well, part of it ends tonight," Sandra said. She tried to make her face look slightly upset and surprised, as if she'd just remembered something. "You're coming to Cara's party, aren't you?"

  Tom frowned. "You mean tonight's party has something to do with the sorority? It isn't part of the pledging thing, is it?"

  This time Sandra's embarrassed stare was natural. "Uh . . . yes and no," she said miserably.

  Tom's eyes flashed with anger. "Do you mean to tell me—"

  "Tom, I've got to get going," Sandra said quickly, grabbing her handbag and hurrying away.

  "What about the shoes?" he called after her. But Sandra didn't turn around. She couldn't believe what she had just done. Her eyes were filled with guilty tears, and she could barely find her way out of the store and into the mall.

  I just hope Jean doesn't find out, she thought miserably. If Tom confronts her and she finds out I was the one who ratted on her, she'll never talk to me again as long as she lives!

  Tom put the last racket cover away. He had finished doing inventory, and he knew he could go home now. But he didn't feel like it. He was burning mad, and he was afraid once he went home, he'd do nothing but sit and stew over what Sandra had accidentally blurted out.

  So Jean was just using him as a pledge task. It was painfully obvious when he put the bits and pieces of Sandra's story together. The pledges were given various assignments, and sometimes one assignment was to get a particular guy to go out.

  Boy, he'd sure fallen for it that time. What an idiot I am, he thought miserably. For ages he had had a secret crush on Jean West. Who wouldn't? She was petite, slender, and pretty, with long, gleaming dark brown hair and eyes as green as meadow grass. Jean West's middle name could have been Perfect, but that had always been part of the trouble.

  Tom was shy around girls. Maybe not outwardly shy—after all, he had managed to date Jessica Wakefield, one of the most popular and flirtatious girls at school. But when it came to making a commitment, to really caring, then he was shy. The truth was, he had never been in love. Jean was the first girl whom he had been interested in in a long time.

  But he didn't like the way Jean acted sometimes. Granted, she was pretty. But Tom had never been sure there was anything beyond Jean's image. The few times he had tried to strike up a conversation with her, she had seemed aloof. When she did respond, she didn't really seem to have much to say; she just made small talk.

  Gradually Tom's interest in Jean had faded. He had been astounded when she had approached him at the tennis match. And Tom was extremely flattered. Not only had she and Lila called him over, but Jean had gone all out trying to talk to him. And she didn't just chatter that time—she really talked. They had had some great telephone conversations, too, and Tom felt as if he was beginning to like her. He had been looking forward to their date so much. He had even bought a new shirt and had gotten permission to take his father's car. . . .

  Well, I was a jerk, he thought sharply. A real jerk. I'm not going to let her make a fool of me in front of everyone tonight.

  He couldn't believe Jean would do this to him. But from what Sandra had let slip, there was no denying it. It was too much of a coincidence. Here this gorgeous girl had approached him out of the blue and asked him to a party that just happened to be one of the most important events in the Pi Beta Alpha pledge period!

  Well, I'll show her, Tom thought grimly.

  He had no intention of letting Jean know that he knew what she was up to. Better fo fight fire with fire, he decided. Let her go on thinking everything was perfectly fine—until it was too late for her to do anything about it.

  There was no way he was going to be her date that night. He was going to make her good and sorry she had treated him the way she had. And he was going to make her look like a fool in front of her sorority sisters!

  "Who is it?" Steven called.

  "Only me," Elizabeth said, opening the door to his bedroom a crack and sticking her head inside. "Can I come in?"

  "Sure," Steven said.

  Elizabeth strolled into her brother's bedroom and plopped down in his armchair, watching Steven search through some papers on his desk. "I was just thinking," she said conversationally, "that you probably won't be wanting your word processor on board the Bellefleur, right?"

  Steven stared at her. "I get the definite impression you're hinting, Liz."

  Elizabeth smiled. "Well, I have an awful lot of stuff to do for The Oracle these days, Steve. A computer of my own would sure come in handy. And if you're not going to be using yours anymore . . . "

  Steven stiffened. "I worked hard to buy that computer, Liz."

  "I'll take excellent care of it," Elizabeth said. "Come on, Steve. What are you going to do with a computer in the middle of the ocean?"

  Steven didn't say anything at first. "I'll think about it," he said shortly, turning back to the papers on his desk.

  "What's that?" Elizabeth asked him, trying hard to keep her voice nonchalant.

  Steven made a face. "A bunch of junk Dad gave me this morning, insurance policies, medical plans, all that sort of thing. He says I'll have to check out my coverage now that I'm leaving school." He frowned again. "I never realized how much paperwork it takes just to stay healthy."