Roger Collins was faculty adviser to The Oracle, as well as one of the most popular teachers at Sweet Valley High. And it was simple to see why. In addition to his good looks and easygoing manner, he was always there for the students when they needed someone to talk to, when they were having problems in school or at home.
Right then, Mr. Collins was officiating at the barbecue grill, passing out sizzling hamburgers along with samples of his dry wit. Elizabeth noticed Suzanne following his movements with her eyes. Well, why not? Roger Collins was without a doubt the best-looking teacher at Sweet Valley High. With his windblown, strawberry-blond hair and crinkly blue eyes, he reminded Elizabeth a little of Robert Redford.
After everyone had finished eating, some of the kids set up a net and got a volleyball game going. An hour later, they were ready for a nice cool swim. Suzanne was the first to hit the water, stroking her way toward the far end of the lake. Enid and George got into a water fight that soon escalated into an all-out war. No one within firing range was safe. Todd commented jokingly to Elizabeth that it was beginning to look more like Marine World than a picnic.
Suddenly Elizabeth noticed a tiny figure out in the middle of the lake who appeared to be floundering.
“Mr. Collins!” she yelled. “I think Suzanne’s in trouble!”
Mr. Collins took one look, and instantly he was in the water, thrashing his way toward her with powerful strokes. Elizabeth remembered him telling her once that he’d been a lifeguard in college. She watched with growing relief as he began maneuvering Suzanne toward shore, one arm looped about her chest. The crowd broke into cheers when he had finally scooped her out of the water and carried her up the beach. A very drenched-looking Suzanne clung to him, sobbing.
“I—I don’t know what happened,” she choked. “I must have gone too far. My legs just g-gave out on me.” Mr. Collins tried to put her down, but she wrapped her arms about his neck even more tightly, burying her face against his muscular chest. “Oh, Mr. Collins, if it hadn’t been for you, I might have drowned!”
“Are you all right now?” he asked.
“Well … sort of. I know this will probably sound silly, but I’d feel so much better if you could just sit with me for a few more minutes. I—I still feel kind of wobbly.”
Mr. Collins looked uncomfortable. “If you’re not feeling well, maybe someone should take you home.”
“Oh, no, please, I wouldn’t want to put anyone out. Besides, I’m feeling much better now. You can put me down. I promise I won’t collapse.” She offered a shaky smile.
Mr. Collins didn’t argue.
As it turned out, Suzanne had no shortage of strong shoulders to lean on. As soon as Mr. Collins left, she was surrounded by more than a dozen concerned males, eager to offer their support and sympathy. Aaron Dallas, co-captain of the soccer team, tenderly wrapped his towel around her, while Tom McKay held her hand until she stopped shivering. In an effort to cheer her up, Winston strummed another one of his made-up melodies about a fair lady lost at sea. Even Bruce Patman got in on the action by bringing her a paper cupful of iced tea.
Elizabeth was left with a vague feeling of confusion. Something was wrong, and she tried hard to put her finger on what was bothering her. Then she thought about the other day when she and Suzanne had swum laps in the pool. Suzanne was such a strong swimmer. How had she come so near to drowning?
“You look a little shaky yourself,” Todd said, slipping an arm about Elizabeth’s waist. “That was a close call.”
Elizabeth swiveled around to face him, momentarily forgetting her consternation over Suzanne. Todd smiled down at her, his brown eyes filled with tenderness. His dark hair curled in damp ringlets, and beads of moisture glistened on his broad, sun-burnished chest.
“I’m just glad she’s OK,” Elizabeth said. “If it hadn’t been for Mr. Collins…”
“Are you kidding? Another few seconds and she would’ve had more rescuers than she knew what to do with.”
“It’s funny how Mr. Collins was acting,” Elizabeth observed thoughtfully. “Almost like he couldn’t wait to get away afterward.”
“Maybe he doesn’t like everybody looking at him as if he’s the big hero. I guess it makes some guys uncomfortable.”
“Maybe.” Elizabeth pushed the incident to the back of her mind. There was no sense spending the rest of the afternoon worrying about it. “I suppose it doesn’t matter, now that Suzanne’s all right.”
Todd glanced toward the adoring throng surrounding her. “From the looks of it, I’d say so. The real question here is”—he dipped his head to kiss her lightly on the mouth—“are you going to be all right?”
“I don’t know,” Elizabeth answered, wilting against him in a mock faint. “I may need more mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.”
This time Todd’s lips lingered on hers. “Any better?” he murmured against her ear.
“I’ll tell you when I’ve had enough.”
He grinned. “Slave driver.”
A few minutes later, as they were strolling along the edge of the lake hand in hand, Elizabeth mused aloud, “I wonder what Jessica’s doing right now.” She’d been vaguely concerned about her sister ever since Suzanne had made that comment about her parents, although Jessica wasn’t the kind of person who had trouble taking care of herself.
“Knowing Jessica, I’d say anything was possible.”
Elizabeth groaned. “You’re right about that. With Jessica, ‘anything’ might mean … well, anything.”
Todd laughed. “The only difference is, this time you won’t be dragged into it.”
She knew he was thinking about all the times she’d stepped in to bail her sister out of impossible jams—and then had ended up getting burned herself. Todd disapproved of the way Elizabeth stuck up for Jessica, but by now he knew better than to say much about it. Despite Jessica’s faults, Elizabeth was fiercely loyal to her twin.
Elizabeth sighed. “Well, we can be sure of one thing, at least—whatever she’s getting herself into, Jessica’s probably having the time of her life.”
Four
Jessica felt as if she’d been hit in the chest with a sledgehammer.
Standing in the doorway was the most gorgeous male she’d ever laid eyes on.
“Hi,” he said in a deep, sexy voice. “I’m Pete. Pete McCafferty.”
He stuck out his hand, but she was barely aware of shaking it. She was too busy noticing the way his green eyes sparkled, the way his chestnut hair fell in sun-streaked locks over his tanned forehead. In white slacks and a blue Lacoste shirt that hugged his muscular chest, he looked as if he’d just stepped off a yacht—which he probably had, Jessica speculated.
“I’m Jessica,” she said, flashing him her most winning smile.
“I know. Suzy told me you’d be visiting.”
“You’re a friend of Suzanne’s?” she asked in surprise. He had to be at least twenty. Her mother would have an absolute fit if she went out with anyone that old! Of course Jessica had sneaked around with older guys a couple of times, but she’d never let her parents find out.
Pete stepped into the Devlins’ apartment as if he were perfectly at home doing so, asking as an afterthought, “Mind if I come in?”
“Certainly—I mean, no, of course not,” Jessica stammered, feeling unsure of herself—a rare occurrence for her. Normally she knew exactly what she was doing when it came to boys, and it usually wound up with her leading them around by the nose. But Pete seemed so much more mature and sophisticated than the boys she’d known. “If you’re looking for Mr. and Mrs. Devlin, they’re not home right now.”
“Too bad.” He cast her a sleepily seductive smile, then crossed the room, sinking into a huge, thronelike leather chair by the fireplace.
Jessica’s heart picked up speed, the way it always did when she found herself teetering on the brink of some potentially delicious adventure.
She’d been in New York only two days, but so far it had been such a whirlwind of strange and
exotic things that she wouldn’t have been a bit surprised if this handsome stranger had introduced himself by saying, “Hi, I’m Prince. Prince Charming, that is.”
When she’d arrived at the airport, both the Devlins had been there to greet her. Jessica immediately liked Mr. Devlin. He reminded her of her father, even though they didn’t look anything alike. Mr. Devlin was short and roundish, with thinning blond hair and a bushy mustache. But his gray-blue eyes held the same fun-loving twinkle of mischief as her father’s. Mrs. Devlin was much more elegant. She was tall and gloriously thin, with the kind of cheekbones Jessica could achieve only by sucking her cheeks in as far as they would go. She wore her black hair in a skintight bun from which not a single stray strand dared to escape. When Mrs. Devlin hugged her, Jessica’s only impression was of a cool draft of perfumed air.
They rode home in a hired limousine. Mrs. Devlin explained that they avoided taxicabs whenever possible. According to her, they were all “dreadful contraptions” driven by “dreadful little men.” Jessica scarcely paid attention to what Mrs. Devlin was saying. She was too engrossed in staring out at the Manhattan skyline, lit up like a carnival, as they crossed the Queens-borough Bridge. She was so excited she could hardly sit still.
On Saturday Mrs. Devlin was going shopping on Fifth Avenue, and took Jessica along. Jessica had brought some spending money, but she was shocked when she saw some of the prices. In Saks Fifth Avenue she picked up a pretty scarf she was thinking of buying as a souvenir for Elizabeth. When she saw the price tag, she dropped it as though her fingers had been scorched. Seventy-five dollars for that! She wouldn’t even spend that much on herself!
Finally she decided that Elizabeth would just have to be satisfied with the free sample vials of perfume they were passing out in the cosmetics department—Jessica could always pretend she’d paid for them. For herself, she splurged on a pretty necklace made of twisted strands of colored beads that was on sale. It didn’t compare, of course, to the fabulous gems that winked at her from under the display cases in Tiffany’s and Cartier’s, but she tried not to look too impressed so Mrs. Devlin wouldn’t think she was hopelessly unsophisticated.
They had had lunch at the Russian Tea Room, which Jessica had read about in People magazine. Mrs. Devlin spent the whole time smoking skinny brown cigarettes. She hardly even touched her food, Jessica noticed. No wonder she was so slim!
Jessica was hoping for a glimpse of someone famous—according to People, a lot of celebrities lunched there—but the closest she got was a waiter who vaguely resembled Paul Newman. Still, she wasn’t too disappointed. Obviously the people who ate there were simply oozing with money.
And now, enthroned before her was the dream boy of a lifetime. Jessica didn’t care if he was Suzanne’s boyfriend or not. Why should she be loyal to a girl she’d never even met? Besides, what Suzanne didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. This was definitely too good to pass up.
“Would you, uh, like something to drink?” she offered.
It suddenly crossed her mind that he might ask for something like a martini. Not that she would have minded, except that Mrs. Devlin kept the liquor cabinet locked when she wasn’t around. She was sure the cleaning woman would steal from it otherwise. Jessica hoped he would want something simple like a Coke.
“No, thanks,” Pete said. “I can’t stay. I just came by to drop off these tickets.” He produced an envelope from inside his jacket. “They’re for a concert Suzy and I were supposed to go to tonight. I thought since she’s out of town, Tom and Felicia might like them.”
It was the first time Jessica had ever heard a boy call his girlfriend’s parents by their first names. Oh, he was so unbelievably sophisticated! She felt a thrill of challenge ripple through her.
“That’s too bad,” she said, the corners of her mouth turning down ever so slightly. “The Devlins can’t go either. They’re going to some kind of party. It’s a shame the tickets have to go to waste. What kind of concert did you say it was?”
“Piano. Horowitz.”
“Oh, I just love him!” she trilled. The truth was, she didn’t have the vaguest idea who he was.
Pete wore an amused smile. “Yes, he really is quite extraordinary, isn’t he? What did you think of his latest recording of Chopin’s Polonaise in A Major?”
“I, uh—” Jessica felt an unfamiliar heat climbing into her cheeks. “I thought it was very—interesting.”
“You did? I found it a bit on the dry side. Too intellectual. Chopin should come from the heart, don’t you think?”
“From the heart? Oh, yes, definitely.”
Pete rose languidly from his chair. “Well, I really must be going.”
Jessica felt a rush of panic. He was leaving, and she might never see him again. She couldn’t let that happen.
“This really is a fantastic coincidence,” she purred. “Here I was planning to spend the whole evening all by my lonesome self, and you just happen to have these tickets.…”
Pete raised one eyebrow in a way that almost made it appear he was mocking her, but he said nothing. Jessica’s words hung in the air between them. She could feel herself turning very red.
Finally she blurted, “So I was just thinking—if you still want to go to the concert, I wouldn’t mind going with you.”
“Fine. I’ll pick you up at five-thirty,” he said, as if he’d been planning it all along. “We might as well have dinner first.”
Jessica would have been furious at the way he’d made her suffer—if her joy at having a date with such a fabulously exciting man hadn’t been so overwhelming. Back home, her parents never would have allowed her to go out with anyone his age. Obviously Suzanne’s parents were far more enlightened. Oh, just wait until Cara and Lila heard about this!
Five
It took Jessica several hours to get ready for her all-important date with Pete. She spent an hour soaking in the tub, having the time of her life trying out all the scented oils and perfumes that filled Suzanne’s lavish bathroom. How could any girl be so lucky?
Next came the makeup. Normally Jessica didn’t wear that much. The truth was that with her natural good looks she didn’t really need it. But somehow the thought of wearing too little makeup that night seemed horribly unsophisticated.
She spent an hour experimenting with Suzanne’s vast array of creams, powders, eye shadows, lipsticks, and blushes. Finally she arrived at the perfect combination. Looking at the finished masterpiece in the mirror, she couldn’t resist a satisfied smile. Perfect. Pete would have to be made of stone to resist her.
But by the time she’d gone through her dresses looking for something to wear, she was ready to cry. Nothing seemed right. Everything was too casual or unsophisticated by New York standards. Her best dress—a white dotted swiss with a ruffled neckline—looked like something a choir girl would wear. She tossed it on the bed in disgust.
Then she remembered Suzanne’s closet. Maybe there was something that would fit her. Minutes later she had the answer—in the form of a close-fitting black crepe cocktail dress with a plunging back. When she had tried it on and inspected the results in the mirror, she could hardly believe the transformation. My gosh, I look at least nineteen! She imagined Pete’s reaction when he saw her, and a chill of excitement chased up her spine.
The way it turned out, though, wasn’t anything like what she’d imagined.
For one thing, Pete was late—nearly half an hour. Jessica was on the verge of tears by the time he showed up. The only thing that kept her from crying was the prospect of ruining her makeup. She waited for him to offer some kind of apology, but it never came.
“Are you ready?” Pete asked, taking in her polished appearance with one quick glance.
Ready! Jessica could hardly believe her ears. Wasn’t he going to tell her how absolutely stunning she looked?
She was fuming, but she took care not to let Pete know. In spite of his rudeness, he was still the most exciting guy she’d ever met. Swallowing her anger, she r
eached out and touched his arm. “It was so sweet of you to invite me out,” she cooed, fluttering her eyelashes at him. “I just don’t know what I would have done if I had to sit home all by myself tonight.”
“Oh, I’m sure you would’ve come up with something,” he drawled, his green eyes twinkling with suppressed amusement as he looked down at her. “You don’t seem like the type of girl who ever stays lonesome for long.”
Jessica giggled. “Not if I can help it.”
It wasn’t until he was helping her on with her coat that he finally made a comment about her appearance—only it wasn’t at all what she expected.
“Isn’t that Suzy’s dress?” he asked.
“Uh … she told me I was welcome to borrow anything that was in her closet,” Jessica quickly invented. “Wasn’t that nice of her?”
Pete nodded. “Mmm. I thought I recognized it.”
Not one word about how sensational she looked in it! How could anyone be so blind? Either that or he was purposely torturing her.
He took her to Windows on the World for dinner. It was the fanciest restaurant she’d ever eaten in—as well as the most breathtaking. It was located at the top of the World Trade Center, the tallest building in New York. Gazing out the floor-to-ceiling windows, Jessica grew dizzy with delight. Below, the glittering panorama of the city seemed to stretch on endlessly. She could even see the Statue of Liberty! Except that from this height, it looked the size of a Barbie doll.
Pete ordered wine with dinner, and Jessica was pleased to note the waiter didn’t bat an eyelash when it came to filling her glass. At least one person thought she looked grown-up and sophisticated! Pete was friendly enough—they never seemed to run out of things to chat about—but he continued to keep her at arm’s length. It was as if he hadn’t even noticed she was a member of the opposite sex!
Too Good to Be True Page 3