Alone in the Crowd Read online

  Mrs. Henry went over and put her arms around Lynne, who stiffened, hating herself. "Listen, sweetie," her mother said, tears running down her cheeks. "I don't think you're a zero! I just think you're unhappy. And I want to help you somehow. If only you wouldn't shut me out—"

  "I'm not unhappy," Lynne said flatly. I'm miserable, she thought. But somehow she couldn't admit it to her mother. It seemed like the ultimate defeat.

  "Well," her mother said at last, her face tear-stained and confused, "I guess I should just leave you alone if you're working on a song, hmm?"

  Lynne felt like crying. She didn't want her mother to go. She wanted to put her arms around her and weep her heart out on her shoulder. She wanted to tell her all about Guy and how confused she had been feeling since she met him. But she couldn't.

  "I guess you should," she said dully, watching with a face of stone while her mother crossed the room and shut the door behind her.

  The minute the door closed, Lynne strummed an experimental D-minor chord on her guitar. The melancholy chord suited her mood perfectly. Closing her eyes, she tried to feel her way back toward the magical tingling that had begun earlier that day when the phrase "outside, looking in" had come into her mind. She tried to clear her mind, keeping herself as still as possible. Strumming another chord, she half-whispered, half-sang the phrase, "Day after day, I'm feeling kind of empty." She frowned, shook her head, and reached for her notebook and pencil. "Day after day I'm feeling kind of lonely," she wrote. A smile crossed her face. That was better. "Day after day, it's him and him only." Tears filled her eyes. She had never felt this way writing a song before. This was her life she was writing about—her loneliness, her pain, her awkwardness. The song came as if from out of nowhere. She wasn't even aware of the minutes flying past, and she couldn't believe her eyes when she looked up at last, the finished lyrics scrawled hastily on her note pad. It was ten o'clock already. She had been working for almost two hours.

  But she couldn't wait to record the song. She felt as if she had to do it now, before she lost heart and forgot the whole thing. Her fingers trembling, she set her tape recorder up, inserting a blank cassette and placing the microphone carefully on her bed so it wouldn't jiggle. At last everything was ready. She pushed the record button and sang her song. She couldn't believe how confident she felt. Her voice was rich and full, without a single quaver in it, and tears stung her eyes from the depth of emotion she was feeling. There was no doubt about it: everything she had was in this song. If The Droids didn't like it, it wasn't because she hadn't tried.

  "There!" she said at last. She labeled the tape " 'On the Outside, Looking In' (Anonymous)" and dropped it in an envelope. "There," she said again, but she didn't feel triumphant any more.

  She knew she had given the song everything she had. She just wished she could somehow let Guy know she had written it for him.

  But it was better this way, she tried to reassure herself. Being anonymous meant no glory, no recognition. But it also meant no risk of pain. And she wasn't going to risk being hurt, not for anything in the world.

  Not even for Guy Chesney.

  It was Monday afternoon, and Elizabeth and Enid, were in the Wakefield's living room, listening to records Enid had brought over. Their conversation drifted languidly from one topic to another. "Billie Holiday is really something," Enid said admiringly. "I think this is my favorite album."

  Elizabeth nodded in agreement. She adored the blues singer as much as Enid did. She decided at that moment to go record shopping later that week and to buy a Billie Holiday album for herself.

  "Speaking of music, what do you think about the contest The Droids are running?" Elizabeth asked.

  Enid's green eyes sparkled. "I think it's so exciting," she said and sighed. "A real star search, right in Sweet Valley High! Do you think they'll get a lot of entries?"

  "I should hope so, considering how well they're advertising," Elizabeth replied. "I don't know, though," she reconsidered. "I'm not sure how many songwriters are hiding out there. Maybe not that many."

  "Well, I hope they find the perfect song," Enid said vehemently. "The Droids are so good. If they could find a terrific song, I bet they'd make it in no time."

  "Who'd make it in no time?" Jessica demanded, appearing in the doorway with her usual eager and inquisitive expression on her face.

  Elizabeth groaned. "The walls have ears," she complained.

  "We're talking about The Droids," Enid told Jessica. "We were just saying that they could use a really great song."

  "I hope they find one by Saturday night," Jessica said. "We're going to need something wonderful to listen to. Otherwise, all those hours in the rocking chair might start to get a little dull."

  Enid giggled. "Your bottom's going to be sore!"

  "It'll be worth it," Jessica said stoically. "You should see the outfits we decided on yesterday. They're so cute—little white skirts and the sweetest short-sleeved tops. We're just a few pledges short of having the best-looking uniforms in the whole state!"

  "Did you get a lot of pledges at lunch today?" Enid asked. "I saw you running around like crazy in the cafeteria."

  "I did pretty well," Jessica said modestly. "Do either of you want to guess how much money I'll raise each hour I rock?"

  "Break it to us, Jess." Elizabeth said. "How much?"

  "Twenty-five dollars," Jessica said proudly. "That makes seventy-five dollars if I rock for three hours. That's pretty good for one night's fund-raising, don't you think?"

  "Excellent," Enid said.

  "I have to go," Jessica announced. "The cheerleaders are meeting over at Helen Bradley's house. She's got a rocking chair, and we have to practice."

  Elizabeth and Enid fought hard to keep their faces straight. "I hope it goes well," Elizabeth said, losing her composure.

  "Cut it out," Jessica said, pouting. "You guys are going to be sorry Saturday night that you made fun of me. You're going to wish you could be in on the relay, too."

  "Maybe you could start a new fad," Elizabeth said, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. "Instead of collecting rocks, you could get people collecting rockers!"

  "I'm leaving," Jessica said, storming out of the room.

  Enid and Elizabeth locked gazes. That was all it took. The next minute they were laughing so hard they thought they'd never be able to stop.

  "What's wrong?" Jessica demanded, looking around in dismay at the deadpan faces that greeted her in the Bradleys' comfortable living room.

  "Hellen just made us all feel rotten, that's all," Annie Whitman said, reaching over to take a brownie from the tray on the coffee table. "Tell her the awful news, Helen."

  Helen blinked miserably. "I'm the one who should be sad, not you guys," she said, refusing to meet Jessica's inquisitive gaze. "My dad just told us that he and my mom went ahead and bought the house of their dreams," she admitted after a long, glum silence "But it's in Los Angeles! I still can't believe it," she moaned, staring around at the others with a stricken look on her face. "I can't believe we have to move away from Sweet Valley!"

  "When are you supposed to move?" Jessica demanded.

  "It could be practically any time." Helen sighed. "My dad said he's putting our house on the market right away. It could be next week, or the week after—"

  Jessica went pale. "But what about the squad?" she cried. "Helen, we're counting on you! You can't drop out of cheerleading after everything we've been through together!"

  "Jessica," Cara pointed out, "what's she supposed to do, commute from Los Angeles? Be reasonable!"

  Jessica grimaced. Be reasonable, indeed. She and Robin Wilson were co-captains of the team, but she was the one who had ended up doing most of the work the last time they had had auditions. Granted, that was at her own insistence. But she couldn't stand the thought of going through that again. They finally had a squad that worked well together!

  Helen left the room for a minute, and Cara turned to Jessica, keeping her voice low. "It's hardly going to make Helen feel any better, hearing you gripe about her leaving the cheerleaders."

  "That's easy for you to say," Jessica retorted. She was thinking that she was the one who had to suffer most when they had auditioned Annie Whitman, but she didn't dare mention it, not with Annie right in the room. The poor girl had tried to commit suicide when she hadn't made the squad. Everyone had gone almost crazy with fear and worry. Finally they expanded the squad and let her on. The last thing Jessica wanted was to go through something like that again.

  "Lighten up," Cara whispered to Jessica. "The poor girl's really low about moving as it is."

  "OK, OK," Jessica conceded. But her spirits were considerably dampened. The rest of the evening dragged, and Jessica could barely wait to get home to tell her sister the grim news about Helen.

  She and Cara were the last to leave. After they had said goodbye to Helen, Cara put her hand on Jessica's arm, her face bright with excitement. "I couldn't tell you the news before," she confided, her pretty eyes sparkling, "because it seemed too cruel after Helen dropped her bombshell. Did Lila ever tell you about her fabulous, adorable cousin Christopher?"

  Jessica stopped short. "The really cute one who lives in New England somewhere?"

  "That's right." Cara was positively brimming with excitement. "He's seventeen, and he lives in Kennebunkport, Maine. The incredible news is that he's coming out to the West Coast to visit Lila!"

  "When?" Jessica demanded, her eyes widening. This was good news!

  "Not for a few weeks. That's why I didn't want to say anything in front of Helen," Cara replied. "I thought it would just add insult to injury, since she may have moved by the time he gets here. And, Jess, Lila says she's going to have the biggest, most fabulous party ever, to celebrate his arrival!"

  Jessica laughed. Lila's parties were famous in Sweet Valley, and she had a hard time imagining how she could compete with her own past success. But she had a feeling Lila would find a way.

  And somehow the news about Christopher made it easier for Jessica to put Helen Bradley's move out of her mind. Helen herself had said it could be weeks before they actually left Sweet Valley. Why worry about it now? she asked herself. She had too much to look forward to in the next few days to worry about cheerleading auditions.

  And she was bound and determined to make sure Saturday's Rock Around the Clock was as fun an event as she had promised all her classmates!

  Six

  It was Wednesday morning. Lynne swallowed nervously. This is it, she told herself, checking both sides of the hallway to make sure no one was coming. It was first period, her study hall, and she wanted to drop her cassette off in the box in the Oracle office when no one else would see her. This seemed like the best possible time, when everyone else was in class.

  For the dozenth time, Lynne wondered if she was doing the right thing. Why submit the song at all? Wasn't she risking being found out? No way, she assured herself, checking her bag to make sure the envelope was still there. No one could possibly figure out who the anonymous singer was. Taking a deep breath, she hurried across the hall and put her hand on the doorknob to open the door to the office. To her shock and dismay, the door was pulled open, and Elizabeth Wakefield hurried out, almost knocking Lynne off her feet.

  "Lynne!" Elizabeth said, obviously startled, ooo. "I'm so sorry. Are you OK?"

  "Y-y-y-yes," Lynne stammered, turning scarlet. "It was my fault, anyway."

  Elizabeth's face relaxed into a smile. "It's the door's fault," she said and giggled. "We have no-fault accidents around this office all the time!"

  Lynne could feel her heart hammering. She was cursing herself out for not having considered that someone might be inside the office. Any second now Elizabeth was going to ask her what she was doing there, and Lynne would be found out. She felt terrible, and she was sure her secret was written all over her face.

  "Can I help you with something?" Elizabeth asked. "Did you want to come inside?"

  Lynne blinked, feeling ridiculous. "Uh—no, Liz. I actually had the wrong room, if you can believe that." She laughed, a false, absurd-sounding laugh that made her cringe. Elizabeth looked at her strangely but didn't say anything.

  "Well, I'd better run," Elizabeth said, still looking closely at Lynne. "You're sure you don't need anything?"

  "Sure," Lynne said with exaggerated cheer.

  "OK." Elizabeth closed the door behind her, gave Lynne a parting smile, and hurried down the hall.

  That was close, Lynne thought. She waited until Elizabeth had turned the corner before opening the door. Then she scuttled into the office, made sure no one else was around, and dropped her envelope into the box marked Droids' Songwriting Contest Submissions. Wiping her forehead with the back of her sleeve, Lynne darted back into the hall, pulling the door closed and breathing an enormous sigh of relief.

  She'd done it. No one could possibly figure out who the anonymous singer was. There was no way that Elizabeth could make the connection, either. There were already several cassettes in the box, and no one would suspect the yellow envelope was any different from the other submissions.

  Lynne felt an enormous sense of relief. She had managed to submit her song without being discovered. She had put everything she had into that song, stripping herself bare, revealing her deepest feelings for the very first time. If anyone thought she was the one singing those words, it would be the end of her.

  But the way she had handled it, she was sure no one would ever find out about her song.

  A small crowd had gathered out on the rolling green lawn under the big oak trees in front of Sweet Valley High. It was one o'clock on Friday afternoon, and the lunch hour was drawing to a close. The Droids were at the center of the group, reading aloud the names of the submissions they had received and popping the cassettes into a battery-operated cassette player. Elizabeth and Jessica were listening avidly with the rest of the group, waiting for the perfect song, the special hit that would become a signature title for The Droids. The four songs they had heard so far all sounded very much the same. They were nice, but nothing special.

  "I don't know," Elizabeth said, looking disturbed. "It doesn't seem as if they're going to find what they're looking for after all."

  "Hey, what's this?" Guy said, taking a tape out of a yellow envelope and turning it over in his hands. "It's marked Anonymous," he said, looking at it speculatively. " 'Outside, Looking In,' by Anonymous!"

  "What kind of title is that?" Ken Matthews asked. " 'Outside, Looking In.' It sounds kind of strange."

  "Let's give it a try," Guy said, popping the tape into the cassette player. A hush fell over the group as he pushed the play button. For a moment the only sound was the whirring of the tape player. Then there was an introductory chord or two from a guitar, followed by one of the richest, throatiest, most gorgeous voices they had ever heard.

  "Jeez," Ken said, sitting up straighter. "Whoever she is, she can really sing!"

  "Ssssh!" Guy said, his expression transfixed. He turned the volume up. "Listen to the words!"

  Elizabeth felt her spine prickling as the haunting melody poured out of the tape player. She couldn't believe anyone her own age could have written a song with so much maturity, such deep and poignant feeling.

  "Wait!" Guy cried. "We have to rewind this and play it from the beginning. I had no idea anyone around here could write like this!"

  This time the audience was ready from the beginning for the magic they were about to hear. The chords struck up again, and the haunting voice sang the poignant lyric from the first word:

  Day after day I'm feeling kind of lonely,

  Day after day it's him and him only.

  Something in his eyes

  Made my hopes start to rise.

  But he's part of a world that doesn't include me.

  Nothing he says could ever delude me.

  I'll never win.

  This is how it's always been.

  I'm on the outside . . . looking in.

  Night after night I'm saying a prayer

  Night after night . . . that somebody will care!

  Somebody to hear me,

  Someone to stay near me . . .

  But nothing's going to change. Dreams can't deceive me.

  I'm all alone. You've got to believe me.

  I just can't win.

  This is how it's always been . . .

  I'm on the outside—on the outside . . .

  Lookin' in.

  A hush fell over the group when the last note had faded. Guy, his eyes bright with excitement, grabbed Dana's arm. "That's it," he said, his voice choked with emotion. "That's the song we've been looking for!"

  Everyone began to buzz with excitement. "It's such a beautiful song," Elizabeth said.

  "Who do you suppose it could be?" Enid asked.

  Guy jumped to his feet, his cheeks blazing. "OK," he said, obviously trying to control his excitement. "We've got a mission, you guys. We've got to find out who this anonymous songwriter is. Can I count on everyone to help me?"

  "Don't you think that's going to be a little hard?" Ken demanded. "Whoever this person is obviously doesn't want to be discovered. Why else wouldn't she submit the song under her name?"

  "We've got to find her," Guy repeated stubbornly, rewinding the tape to play it again. His eyes were filled with a strange expression—something between awe and desperation. "Don't you understand? I've just got to find the girl who wrote this song!"

  "Lynne," Mr. Collins said, standing up behind his desk and brushing his strawberry-blond hair back from his forehead, "would you mind staying behind for a few minutes? I want to talk to you about your paper on Emily Dickinson."

  "Sure," Lynne mumbled. She wasn't in any hurry to eat her sandwich, anyway. The high point of the week, turning her song in at The Oracle, was over. Now she just wanted the hours to fly by. Soon she'd have the whole weekend to herself, to work on her music. And on Saturday she was teaching guitar at the Music Center.