She picked up a magazine and began flipping through it. Mr. Collins had a lot of magazines. Books, too. They were scattered all over the place. Didn’t he have any hobbies besides reading? Well, she would soon find out.
“Liz knows a lot of stories,” Teddy persisted.
“Well, I’m not Liz,” she said flatly.
Teddy looked crestfallen. “Aren’t you going to show me how to do the cat’s cradle?”
“Later,” she snapped. “I’m busy right now.”
Teddy’s big blue eyes shimmered with tears. “How come you’re mad at me, Suzy? You said we were friends.”
“Look, can’t you watch TV or something? I told you, I’m busy.”
Annoyed at his persistence, she jumped up and disappeared into the bedroom. Now that there was no one around to impress, she didn’t have to waste time being nice to some stupid little kid. She’d only taken this job in the first place to get close to Mr. Collins. Let Teddy take care of himself. Hadn’t she taken care of herself during all these years of being shipped off to boarding schools? Oh, they pretended it was for her own good, but she’d known they were only trying to get rid of her. She’d never told anyone how much she hated it—and them. Someday she would show them, though. Someday all the creeps who smiled and pretended to be her friends would find out how she really felt about them.
Meanwhile, here she was alone in Mr. Collins’s bedroom. Her skin prickled at the deliciousness of it; her stomach felt floaty with excitement. She spent the next hour or so going through his closet and drawers. She wasn’t looking for anything in particular—she just liked going through other people’s private things; she could find out a lot about them that way. Some of the time it was even useful. Like that time she found that plastic bag of pot in her cousin Ruthie’s jewelry box. Ruthie had cried and begged her not to tell—and Suzanne had kept her promise not to. Why should she? As long as she kept Ruthie’s secret, she had the perfect slave. Poor scared Ruthie would do anything to keep her parents from finding out.
The contents of Mr. Collins’s bedroom, however, proved mostly disappointing. She’d been unable to unearth even a Playboy magazine. The only things she’d learned were that he liked to dress casually, favoring cords and lightweight sport jackets rather than conservative suits, and that he was extremely fond of his son, judging from the number of photographs of Teddy she saw lying around. How boring. Well, maybe he wasn’t so boring under the surface. She intended to find out.
She could hear the TV going in the other room. Good. The little brat had found something to do besides bug her. She decided to take a bath. Maybe Mr. Collins would come home early and find her in the tub, just like in the movies. Boy, would he be embarrassed. She giggled at the thought. Arranging her hair on top of her head, she examined herself in the mirror as if posing for a bath oil commercial. Yes. Definitely sexy.
By the time she’d finished taking a leisurely bath and had gotten dressed, it was past eleven. She found Teddy asleep in front of the TV. His face looked red and blotchy as if he’d been crying. Never mind. She’d tell Mr. Collins that Teddy had fallen asleep before she could put him to bed and that she hadn’t had the heart to wake him up. He’d never know the difference.
Suzanne prowled around the house, switching off all the lights except for one low table lamp in the living room. She found a station on the radio that played soft, romantic music. For good measure she undid another button on her blouse and curled up on the couch to wait.
Mr. Collins arrived home shortly before twelve-thirty. Suzanne closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep. She could hear the leathery squeak of his shoes as he approached.
“Suzanne. Wake up,” his voice urged.
She continued to play dead.
He bent closer. She could feel the warmth of his breath against her cheek. This time he shook her gently by the shoulder.
Suzanne let her eyelids flutter open in frightened surprise. She sat up with a gasp. “Oh, Mr. Collins, it’s you! I didn’t hear you come in. I must have fallen asleep. You nearly scared me to death. Just feel how my heart is beating!”
She grabbed his hand and pressed it to her chest. Mr. Collins flushed as he pulled away.
“It’s late,” he said. “I’d better take you home now. I don’t want the Wakefields to worry.”
“They won’t be worried. They know where I am.” She stretched sleepily, arching her back so that her chest strained against the few closed buttons of her blouse. “Aren’t you at least going to offer me something to drink? I wouldn’t mind a glass of wine.”
“You’re too young to drink,” Mr. Collins stated flatly.
She laughed. “Oh, don’t be so old-fashioned. My parents let me drink all the time. I’m not going to turn into an alcoholic or anything if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about.”
“Then what are you worried about?” she said silkily. With lazy, catlike grace, Suzanne rose from the couch and wound her arms about his neck. She could feel his muscles tensing as she pressed up against him. She knew the effect she was having on him, and it gave her a heady rush of power.
“Suzanne, stop it.” Mr. Collins’s voice was low with warning.
“I know what’s bothering you,” she murmured. “Why don’t you relax. I’m a big girl. And I’m not the type to kiss and tell.”
She parted her lips and tilted her head back, willing him to embrace her. He was so close, she could tell. His heart was beating too quickly, much too quickly.…
“Oh, Roger…”
Trembling with the effort, Mr. Collins pulled free from her. “Get your things,” he said coldly. “I’ll wait for you in the car.”
She stared at him for a long, incredulous moment. She couldn’t believe it. He was turning her down! She felt like screaming. How dare he reject her?
Her eyes narrowed to razor-thin slits. “You wanted to kiss me. I know you did.”
Mr. Collins shook his head. His eyes looked almost black in the shadowy light. “You’re playing a very foolish game, Suzanne. Believe me, I’m doing you a favor. Otherwise, you’d be very sorry later on.”
But Suzanne scarcely heard what he was saying. Rage was boiling inside her, bubbling to the surface. He had some nerve to treat her this way! She felt like hitting him, scratching his eyes out. Oh, he’d pay for this. She’d make him pay.
Grabbing her purse, she pushed her way past him out the door. She’d be damned if she’d let him drive her home now! Suzanne was halfway down the front path when she whirled to face him one last time.
“You’re the one who’s going to be sorry, Roger Collins!” she hissed.
* * *
Suzanne calmed down as she walked back to the Wakefields’. The thought of getting her revenge on Mr. Collins was making her feel better, more in control. Already a plan was taking shape in her mind. She dried her tears. It might even be fun.
Smiling a little, she pulled at her blouse until it ripped. Let everyone think Mr. Collins had attacked her. It would be priceless, absolutely priceless. He’d probably even be kicked out of school.
As she neared the house, Suzanne let her smile drop. It took her a minute to muster up the tears again, but she managed. After all, she was an expert at it, wasn’t she? Letting herself in the front door, she crept slowly up the darkened stairs toward Elizabeth’s room.
Ten
“It’s so romantic.” Jessica sighed, sinking deep into the leather seat of the horse-drawn carriage as the twilit green of Central Park skimmed past. “I wish I had a picture of us. No one at my school is going to believe this.”
“It’s a bit touristy for my taste,” Pete commented.
His arm was draped over the back of the seat. The tweedy fabric of his sleeve grazed Jessica’s bare shoulder, sending ripples of icy gooseflesh down her back.
Jessica laughed. “Well, I am a tourist after all, so I guess that qualifies me. And you’re my tour guide.” She shot him a coy, sidelong glance. �
�Pete, it’s been such a wonderful day! How can I ever thank you?”
“Don’t thank me, thank the Devlins. It was their idea.”
“They asked you to call me?”
“They thought you might enjoy spending time with someone closer to your own age.” He shrugged. “I happened to be free; so it really wasn’t any trouble.”
Jessica’s heart plunged. She should have known it was too good to be true when Pete phoned to invite her out for a day of sightseeing. It was Thursday; she was leaving in three days. She hadn’t thought she would see him again. Then, when he called …
So he was only doing it as a favor to the Devlins! Just when she was starting to think he might really like her!
This called for drastic action. Jessica felt a surge of determination. This time she was going to pull out all the stops. She’d bring King Cool to a boil, if it was the last thing she did!
She snuggled closer to Pete so that the breeze blew her hair against his cheek in a silken caress. “If this were a movie, we’d probably be kissing right now,” she purred.
Pete arched his brow. “Do you always imagine yourself to be the star of a movie?”
“That depends on the leading man.”
“What sort of leading man did you have in mind?”
She giggled, managing to snuggle even closer. “He’d have to be tall, dark, and handsome. With green eyes and a sexy smile. Very cool. Do you know anyone who might fit the description?”
“I can’t imagine.”
“He’d have to be a good kisser, of course, but that’s the kind of thing you can’t tell just by looking at someone.” She knew she was flirting outrageously, but she didn’t care. All was fair in love and war.
“No, of course not.” Pete’s eyes danced with amusement. “You should have fun auditioning in any case.”
“Well, actually”—Jessica shifted to close any remaining gap that lay between them, bringing her head to rest cozily on his shoulder—“I do have someone in mind, but I’m not sure he’s interested.”
“Impossible!” He pretended to be shocked. “How could anyone resist you, little Jessica?”
Jessica pouted. “I’m not so little.”
“So I’m beginning to see.”
No you don’t see! she raged inwardly. None of her strategies were working. She’d tried the subtle approach. Zero. She’d tried the friendly, interested approach. Ditto. Today, when they were on top of the Empire State Building, she’d clung to him, pretending to be deathly afraid of heights. He’d simply patted her hand and led her back to the elevator as if she’d been a child. Talk about humiliation!
It was getting dark and chilly. The ride didn’t seem that much fun anymore. Actually, she was starting to feel a little sick to her stomach. Why was Pete torturing her this way?
By the time they arrived back at the Devlins’ apartment, Jessica was on the verge of tears. She didn’t care what she looked like anymore. She didn’t even care how she acted. He was treating her as if she were invisible anyway, so what difference did it make?
Pete rode up with her in the elevator—she assumed it was because he wanted to see the Devlins. But no one was home when they got there. It figured. Jessica had spent the better part of her vacation alone in this apartment, after the disaster at Evelyn’s. One exception was the dinner party Mrs. Devlin had given supposedly in Jessica’s honor. The only other teenager was a dorky thirteen-year-old girl named Martha who wouldn’t talk about anything but her horse and the summer she’d spent at a camp for overweight kids. The rest of the people acted as if Jessica hardly existed. Where were all the rich, exciting men who were supposed to be falling all over her? Certainly Pete wasn’t one of them!
“Do you want a drink?” Pete now asked. “I’m having one.”
“I don’t think Mrs. Devlin—”
“Oh, Felicia won’t mind. I know where she keeps the key to the liquor cabinet.”
Jessica shrugged. What did it matter at this point? She didn’t protest when he handed her a glass of brandy. She took a gulp, nearly choking as the fiery liquid burned its way down her throat. When Pete switched off the lights a few minutes later, she hardly noticed.
Suddenly he was beside her in the darkness. His breath was hot against her face. Then he was kissing her! He was actually kissing her! Jessica could barely believe that she wasn’t dreaming. She responded eagerly at first, but it quickly became apparent that Pete had much more in mind than kissing.
What was going on? Nothing could have prepared her for the way he was acting after all the indifference he’d shown her up until now. He’d always been so cool, so controlled, so remote. Now he was acting out of control. His mouth was pressed against hers with an insistence that was frightening. One hand was sliding up over her knee while the other inched up past her rib cage with equal determination. Jessica began to feel panicky.
She twisted away. “No!”
He wouldn’t listen. Pressing her back on the couch, his arms tightened around her while his mouth moved down over her throat. She struggled to sit up but found she couldn’t move. She was firmly pinned beneath him.
“Pete!” she gasped. “Stop it this minute! I mean it!”
Pete only squeezed more tightly. “You’re getting what you asked for, Jessica. Don’t tell me this isn’t what you wanted. You’ve been practically begging for it since the day I met you.”
“I—I—I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Jessica sputtered in outrage. Though they were both fully clothed, she somehow felt as though she were being stripped bare.
“I think you know very well what I’m talking about, not-so-little Jessica.”
She felt as if she were being crushed. She could hardly breathe. She wanted to scream, but she couldn’t get enough air into her lungs. Pete lay on top of her, his moist lips devouring her neck.
“Help!” she managed to get out.
“Grow up,” he growled. “What kind of a game did you think this was? You’re not playing in the sandbox anymore. This is the real world.”
“I—I never wanted this. I only wanted—well…”
He uttered a harsh laugh as his lips sought out her mouth once more. “Little matches start big fires. Didn’t your mother ever warn you about playing with matches?”
Jessica was both scared and angry. What had she done to deserve this? She was mad at Pete, mad at the Devlins for getting her into this—she was even mad at her sister. Elizabeth had been so quick to want to switch places with her. She probably knew how it was going to turn out and had only pretended to want to go in the first place in order to make it sound like fun.
Jessica shoved against Pete with all her strength, managing to wriggle out from underneath him. She rolled off the couch, banging her head against the coffee table.
She glared at Pete. “If you don’t get out of here, I’m going to call the police!”
“And tell them what? That I attacked you after you invited me up to an empty apartment? That you practically begged me to kiss you, then changed your mind at the last minute? Get off it, Jessica. Who’s going to believe you?”
“You’re the most awful person I’ve ever met!” she said, standing up and looking at him defiantly.
Pete was laughing. Jessica got the horrible feeling he’d planned it this way. Just to humiliate her.
“I know about girls like you,” he went on. “You think it’s a game. You like to tease, then the minute anyone takes you seriously, you act so innocent and pure. Well, Miss Innocence, do you still feel like kissing, or is the audition over?”
“I hate you,” Jessica choked out. “I never want to see you again! You’re the meanest person on earth!”
He didn’t look like Prince Charming anymore, she thought. In the shadowy dimness, he looked evil and mean. How could she ever have thought he was handsome?
“Don’t worry, I’m on my way,” he assured her. “But I wouldn’t dream of leaving you without the good-night kiss you deserve.”
As he lu
nged for her, she tried to move out of his way but banged into the coffee table. There was a tremendous crash as a brandy glass shattered on the parquet floor. The sharp scent of alcohol stung her nostrils. She was wrestling with Pete when suddenly the lights came on in a blaze.
Jessica looked up at the horrified expressions on the faces of Mr. and Mrs. Devlin as they stood frozen in the doorway.
Eleven
“Suzy! What on earth happened? You look awful!”
Elizabeth, who had just gotten home and had been getting ready for bed, stared at her friend in shocked dismay. Suzanne was trembling as she sank down on Elizabeth’s bed. Her blouse was torn, her hair a mess. There were smudges of mascara under her eyes, which were red and swollen from weeping.
Suzanne covered her face with her hands. “Oh, Liz, it was so awful! It was like a nightmare!”
“What was like a nightmare?”
“I can’t tell you,” came her muffled reply. “I’m too ashamed.”
“Suzy, you’ve got to tell me what happened!”
“He—Mr. Collins—he tried to—” Suzanne broke off in a fresh torrent of sobs. When she finally looked up, her expression was one of utter misery and despair. “Oh, what’s the use? No one’s ever going to believe it!”
“I’ll believe you,” Elizabeth reassured her.
“Promise?” Tears continued to stream down Suzanne’s cheeks.
“Of course I promise! Now tell me, please, what is going on?”
In a ragged whisper, Suzanne confessed. “Mr. Collins tried to—I mean he.… Oh, I can’t say it.”
“Mr. Collins?” Elizabeth cried in horror. “Oh, Suzanne, no! There’s got to be some mistake. Mr. Collins would never do anything like that!”
“You see? I knew you wouldn’t believe it. I could hardly believe it myself.” She gave a deep, shuddery sigh. “He seemed so nice at first.”
Elizabeth felt sick. There was a funny taste in her mouth, and a strange throbbing had started up in the pit of her stomach. Suzanne was right. She didn’t want to believe it. Not about Mr. Collins, of all people. He was more than just her favorite teacher, he was also her friend.
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