"See you Thursday," Barry said cheerfully at five o'clock when Amy gathered her things to leave. Amy nodded. She tried to ignore the way Barry was looking at her. If only you were Tom McKay, she thought.
But he wasn't. And whoever he was, Barry just wasn't her type.
After school on Wednesday Amy changed for cheerleading practice. She was determined to keep her spirits up. So far, it had not been a great day. Both her parents had left for work early and she had eaten breakfast alone, and at lunchtime Jessica, Lila, and Cara had disappeared on an errand, leaving her stranded again. At least cheerleading practice would be fun, she promised herself.
The other cheerleaders were already out on the field by the time Amy joined them. They were standing in a semicircle around Jean, who looked as if she had been crying.
"Sorry I'm late," Amy said.
"OK, let's get started," Robin Wilson said brusquely.
Robin, who was co-captain of the cheerleading squad with Jessica, was leading practice although she herself wouldn't be working out for a while. She was still recovering from a case of pneumonia brought on from severe weight loss, and her doctors did not think she was strong enough yet for strenuous activity. But Robin was getting stronger every day. With support and therapy, Robin had learned her weight loss was due to anorexia nervosa, an eating disorder, a phenomenon she now knew was neither uncommon nor shameful. The other cheerleaders were glad to have her back.
"You should tell Jean you're sorry. She's really bummed out about what you said about Tom the other day at lunch," Jessica said under her breath to Amy.
Amy bit her lip. Luckily, Robin was instructing them to get into formation, because she really didn't know what to say in her own defense. Jean and Tom were finished! And since when was Jessica so self-righteous about this sort of thing? The two girls had always considered "all's fair in love and war" their chief motto.
It was probably just sour grapes, Amy decided. Maybe Jessica was angry because Amy had gotten her hands on Tom before she did. Well, she couldn't waste her time worrying. If Jessica wanted to act crazy, then let her.
But Amy didn't have anywhere near as much fun at practice as she usually did. She had trouble concentrating. Her mind was a whirl of confusing thoughts. When the cheerleaders had finished the last cheer, they headed back to the locker room, eager to change and go out for ice cream. But Amy stayed behind. She wanted to watch the boys' tennis team practice. And if her friends were determined to give her the cold shoulder, why give them further opportunity?
Tom was playing singles with Barry when Amy stopped by the courts ten minutes later. When Barry dropped a ball at the sight of her, Amy was glad that she had spent so much time with him the day before.
"Amy!" He waved his racket.
She gave him a little wave she had seen once in an old movie. It seemed to charm Barry completely, and Amy grinned. Good. She was halfway there. Now, if only Tom would notice her!
Tom gave a halfhearted wave and nodded his head to Barry. "Your serve," he reminded him.
Amy spread her sweater on the grass and sat down daintily. She watched with interest as they played. Both boys were good, but Tom was a better, more powerful player. Amy noted with pleasure that he was very muscular. She liked the way he looked when he ran. Amy again began to daydream about what it would be like once they were seeing each other. She would come watch Tom play all the time. After each game they would go for a drive, maybe up to Miller's Point.
Barry's voice brought Amy out of her reverie. "I didn't know telephone counselors moonlighted as cheerleaders," he said as he walked toward her, tossing a neon-green tennis ball awkwardly in one hand. Tom walked along with Barry, wiping his face with a towel.
"Let's not talk about counseling here," Amy answered with a quick glance at Tom. She did not want her reputation ruined.
Barry looked surprised. "OK, if that's—"
Amy cut him off again. "Tom, what a great game!" she cooed as she got to her feet. "You know, I need a lot of help on my backhand. I bet you're probably far too busy to help a poor struggling cheerleader learn how to hit, right?" She spoke in her most flirtatious voice.
Tom flung his towel over his shoulder. "Well, actually, I'm pretty booked these days. I've got practice every afternoon this week. And I promised Enid I'd save some time to hit a few balls with her cousin this weekend."
Amy bit her lip. "Not even a teeny little bit of time left over?"
Barry cleared his throat. "I'll help you, Amy."
Tom looked obviously grateful, and Amy began to feel annoyed.
"I'll just wait for you," she turned to Tom, completely ignoring Barry's offer.
"If you change your mind, Amy, I'll be around," Barry called after her as she turned and walked away.
Amy shook her head. She should have known. This was just not her day. How was she ever going to get to Tom if Barry was always in the way?
Five
On Thursday afternoon Amy realized she was actually looking forward to going to Project Youth after school. Of course, if anyone had found out about her work, she would have downplayed the whole thing, saying she was only doing it to make up her grade. But she was excited when she opened the clinic's heavy front door. Coming to the clinic was an adventure, so different from anything she had ever done before.
When she finished her training session, Barry was already on the phones. They worked together side by side for about an hour before there was a lull long enough to allow them a break.
"Phew," Amy said, taking off her headset. "I had some tough ones this afternoon." She looked curiously at Barry. "How do you get used to this? It's weird talking about such heavy stuff, and then switching so quickly back to normal life."
Barry shrugged good-naturedly. "It gets easier over time. You find out that other people's problems aren't so different from your own."
Amy nodded. She had been thinking about one of the young girls who had called in that afternoon. Her name was Mindy and she was fourteen. Mindy had had a big fight with her parents and ever since then her confidence had been at an all-time low. Well, Amy could sure identify with that. She'd found that she was really able to comfort the girl. Maybe she actually did have a knack for this sort of work!
"Hey, you want to get a soda downstairs? Kathy always tells me it's important to take a five-minute breather," Barry said.
"Sure." Amy stretched. She was a little stiff from having sat for so long.
Barry forwarded the calls to Kathy's office. Then he and Amy walked down to the lounge. Barry fired questions at her all the way. Why was she interested in social work? Had she ever thought about being a social worker? Did she have any brothers or sisters?
Amy laughed. "This sounds like an FBI interrogation," she teased him.
Barry shook his head. "I can't help it. When I want to get to know people, I'm not always very subtle. You'll learn that about me, Amy. I'm a pretty straightforward person. I tend to say what's on my mind."
Amy took the soda he offered her. "Not me. I tend to be the opposite," she admitted. "Sometimes I hear myself saying things I just can't believe are coming out of my mouth!" She shook her head. "Sometimes I hear myself sounding flaky and I hate it. But . . ." She shrugged. "I guess it's my style."
Barry nodded. "Nothing wrong with that. You've got to know who you are and be proud of it."
Amy sat down next to Barry. It felt funny talking so honestly, particularly to a guy. It must be the welcoming atmosphere of the clinic, she told herself. She had never confided in anyone like this before, and certainly not a guy.
Come to think of it, Amy had never had a male friend before. The realization surprised her, but it was true. No brothers, no male cousins. She caught herself grinning, and realized that it was nice having this kind of talk with Barry. He was certainly making this internship more enjoyable. And, of course, he might also help her get closer to Tom. They certainly seemed to be good friends.
"Still looking for some help with your tennis game?" Bar
ry asked suddenly.
"Well . . ." Amy dropped her eyes. "Actually, I was just kind of using that as an excuse. I want to get to know Tom McKay better," she blurted out. There. She had said it.
Barry looked a bit pained. After a minute he cleared his throat. "Well, that's honest of you."
"You two are good friends, right?" Amy continued.
Barry nodded. "Yeah. He's a great guy," he said quietly.
"He really is, isn't he?" Amy mused. "Listen, do you think you could help me out a little. Kind of hint to him that I'm interested?"
Barry stared hard at a poster on the opposite wall. "Sure," he said at last. "I don't know how good I am at matchmaking, but I can pass along the message."
Amy felt like hugging him. "Thanks a million," she said, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. She barely even noticed that Barry turned beet red and quickly looked away.
Elizabeth and Todd arrived at the Dairi Burger at about seven-thirty on Friday evening. "I can't wait to meet Jake," Elizabeth said as they parked Todd's BMW in front of the cheerful old dive of a hamburger place.
"Me, too. He sounds terrific," Todd answered.
Enid had rounded up several friends to help her welcome her cousin to town, but news of Jake's arrival had spread so quickly that the whole place seemed packed with curious classmates. Elizabeth spotted Enid right away. She was seated at a corner booth with Winston, Maria, and Tom McKay. Next to Tom sat a taller, more handsome version of the Jake Elizabeth had seen in Enid's photograph.
Elizabeth and Todd hurried over to join their friends.
"Oh, Jake, I want you to meet two of my favorite people in the whole world!" Enid's green eyes were shining as she made the introductions.
"Well, if you're two of my cousin's favorite people, I feel honored to meet you!" Jake smiled and offered his hand.
Elizabeth and Todd slipped into the booth and Todd asked Jake about living in San Francisco.
"It's a really great town. There's a lot happening in the arts, as well as in the local communities. And the city is just so beautiful," Jake said enthusiastically. He mentioned some of the things he liked best about the Bay Area—the bridges, the lovely hills, the wonderful restaurants.
Elizabeth smiled as she listened to Jake. He was every bit as captivating as Enid had promised. He was tall and slender, with dark curly hair and wonderful hazel eyes that twinkled intelligently. Elizabeth liked what he was wearing, too—a sports jacket over a white shirt, opened casually at the neck, and linen trousers. Jake managed to look trendy and casual at the same time.
"I hear the tennis scene in San Francisco is pretty different than it is down here in southern California," Tom observed.
Jake's eyes brightened. "Right. You're the tennis player Enid's determined to have ruin my reputation tomorrow."
Everyone laughed. "That's me. But from what I hear about your game, I'll be lucky to come away with my racket intact." Tom grinned.
"Listen, do you know a guy named Eddie Herbert? He does some coaching at UCLA, and he's pretty big on the tennis scene around L.A.," Jake asked.
Tom nodded. "Of course I know Eddie! He's a local legend."
"He's a great friend of mine," Jake said modestly.
"Hey," Jessica called brightly as she approached the booth, her face set with a determined smile. "Any room for Lila and me, or do we have to take a number to meet the famous Jake Farrell?"
It took a fair amount of shifting around to squeeze both Jessica and Lila in the booth, but Jessica managed to chatter the entire time, her eyes fixed steadfastly on Enid's cousin.
"I think it was very unfair of you to sit in such a tiny booth! The rest of the Sweet Valley crowd will never get to talk to you." Jessica smiled coyly.
"Enid," Lila said sternly, "how could you feed your cousin Dairi Burger hamburgers on his very first night in Sweet Valley! I think you need a real meal, Jake. My father—I'm sure you've heard of him, George Fowler—was just telling me about this wonderful little French restaurant not far from here. I could take you there later, if you'd like."
Jake put up his hand. "Whoa! You sure know how to make a guy feel welcome," he joked. "Thanks for the invitation, Lila, but this place is exactly what I hoped for tonight."
Lila looked a little hurt but Jessica rushed in with another plan.
"I know. We could take you for a tour of Sweet Valley. There's a lot to see here," she said eagerly. "Of course, my little Fiat Spider only fits two. . . ."
Elizabeth nudged her sister in the ribs. "Your little Fiat Spider?" she repeated incredulously. She and Jessica shared the car, or at least they were supposed to share it. Sharing was not Jessica's strong point.
"Listen, we'll have plenty of time to get to know each other this weekend," Jake said good-naturedly. "Anyway, I want to do some catching up with Enid later tonight. And I need to get a good night's sleep. I don't want to make a fool of myself on the courts tomorrow!" Jake smiled at Tom, and everyone at the table settled down to hamburgers and conversation.
It was Enid's idea to play doubles the next morning. Elizabeth did not really feel up to playing with either Tom or Jake. She knew they were both considered excellent players. But Enid insisted they play just for fun.
Enid, Elizabeth, Jake, and Tom managed a few games together as a foursome, and they all did have fun. Elizabeth was paired with Jake, who was the most gracious partner imaginable. He praised her when she successfully returned a shot, and reassured her when she missed.
But after three games, it was obvious the boys wanted to play each other.
"That's OK. We'll be the cheering section," Enid said as she sat down on the grass.
Elizabeth sat down beside her. "Jake's really great," she said. "I didn't think anyone could live up to your description, but Jake really does. He seems like the kind of guy everyone likes."
Enid nodded. "Yeah. He's always been like that, really popular without trying. He's the kind of guy who goes out and buys a really weird watch, just because he likes it. And then all of a sudden, everyone he knows wants one! He's very sure of himself."
Elizabeth nodded and turned her attention to the court. The boys were well matched. Jake was the better player, but Tom made him work for every point. Tom's speed and force were as impressive as Jake's astonishing placement. It took hard work for Jake to take the first set, 7 to 5.
"Whew. This guy is good," Jake called to Enid and Elizabeth.
Tom grinned. "Get back on the court, Farrell! This time I'm not going to let you off so easy!"
"It's nice to see Tom looking a little more like himself," Elizabeth whispered to Enid. "He's seemed so upset since he and Jeanie broke up."
"I know," Enid agreed. "I'm glad he and Jake get along so well."
Before too long the girls were discussing plans for the party at the Beach Disco that evening. When Jake had narrowly taken the second set, the four decided to go to Guido's for pizza.
"I feel a little left out," Elizabeth said to Enid. Jake and Tom were deep in a discussion about tennis rackets.
"I know. Guys and sports!" Enid shrugged cheerfully and studied Guido's menu.
Tom and Jake seemed to have an amazing amount in common. During lunch they discovered that they were both fans of science fiction. Tom had just finished reading a book by an author Jake had admired since he was twelve. They were also both jazz freaks. "I can't believe it. It's too weird," Tom said, shaking his head. "Jake, you can't tell me you've got the 1959 version of that trumpet solo. You know, I'd been looking for it for years and I just found a recording two weeks ago at a garage sale!"
At times the discussion opened up to include Elizabeth and Enid, but it quickly returned to the boys' favorite topic: tennis.
"You know, Jake, I feel as if I've met you somewhere before," Tom mused. "You're sure you weren't at the L.A. tennis course two summers ago?"
Jake shook his head. "Wrong guy. You must be mixing me up with someone else."
Elizabeth knew what Tom meant. Jake did seem familiar so
mehow. But that was just the kind of person he was. He had an openness that made him seem like an old friend. And that was probably what made him seem familiar to Tom.
Six
Amy felt extremely out of sorts Saturday morning. Her father was hard at work on his book. Her mother had to dash off to the station for what she hoped would be just "a couple of hours" to reedit a program due to be shown the next day. Amy's guess was that she would not see her mother again until the evening at least.
Where were Jessica and Lila? Amy had called each of her friends four times. Jessica's line was busy until noon, when the Wakefields' new answering machine picked up. And there was no answer at Lila's house at all.
Amy felt confused and more than a little left out. Ever since the Suttons had moved back to Sweet Valley, Amy had always felt as if she was in the center of the action. Now, for the first time, she felt abandoned.
If only Tom and I were together, she mused as she wandered listlessly around her bedroom. She picked up her hairbrush and stood in front of the mirror, fantasizing about being with Tom. If they were a couple, she would never again feel this lonesome. Saturday afternoons would be the perfect time for doing something really fun. And Tom would never tire of telling her how great she looked and what a special person she was.
Amy shook her head. That was still a dream world. In the real world, she was alone.
"Daddy? Do you want some lunch?" Amy called to her father at twelve-thirty.
"No thanks, sweetie. I'll grab something later when I can take a break," Mr. Sutton called back.
Amy sat alone at the kitchen table and glared at her tuna fish sandwich. What had she done to deserve being deserted?
The phone rang, and Amy lunged for it. It was Kathy Henry, from Project Youth. "Listen, Amy, we're short on staff for the phone lines this afternoon. Any chance you can come in for a few hours?"
"Sure, Kathy," she replied automatically. It felt good to know somebody needed her. Somebodies, she reminded herself as she thought of the dozens of teenagers she had spoken to on the phone lines since she had begun her volunteer work at the clinic.
Amy's True Love (Sweet Valley High Book 75) Page 4