The Perfect Girl (Sweet Valley High Book 74)

by Francine Pascal

  Elizabeth looked up at her twin. "Do you want me to write it, or do you want to write it yourself?" she asked dryly.

  "I want you to write it, Liz," Jessica said in a soothingly sweet voice. "You're so good at this kind of thing."

  "I feel like I'm getting a snow job here." Elizabeth shook her head.

  The cheerleaders had drafted Elizabeth to write a story on Super Sundae for the school paper. Elizabeth was glad to do it, but with Jessica breathing down her neck it was a little hard to concentrate.

  "Just give me all the facts, Jess, and I'll figure out the best way to write the article, OK?"

  Jessica dropped into a chair and crossed her arms. "I was only trying to help."

  The look on her twin's face was so mournful that Elizabeth had to laugh. "OK. OK! I give up. Tell me what to write."

  "Good." Jessica smiled, leaned forward, and took on a look of inspiration. "The Sweet Valley High cheerleaders, led by Jessica Wakefield, are planning the world's biggest—"

  "Whoa," Elizabeth said. "I don't take shorthand, you know."

  "Just as long as you get that bit about me being in charge, Liz."

  "Yeah, right," Elizabeth said. "Should I add that you're the most wonderful person in the world, or does everyone already know that?"

  "Ha, ha." Jessica smirked at her.

  "Just curious, but were you expecting me to write anything about your cocaptain? Even though I'm sure Robin has absolutely nothing to do with this," she said sarcastically.

  Elizabeth knew how her twin felt about Robin. Jessica's feelings were totally illogical, but that did not make any difference to Jessica. It irked Elizabeth that Jessica could be so careless about someone whom she herself liked. Well, Elizabeth would be very sure to give Robin as much credit as she deserved. After all, the ice-cream sundae had been Robin's idea.

  "Whatever," Jessica said dismissively.

  Jessica propped her chin up in her hand and looked across the cafeteria. She made a face. "Look at Lois. If I were that fat, I'd live in isolation."

  "Jessica!" Elizabeth followed Jessica's gaze and saw Lois Waller sitting down at a table with her boyfriend, Gene White. Lois wasn't really fat, but she was definitely chubby. She had always been a bit overweight, even back when they were all in middle school.

  But Lois's weight had not spoiled her good nature. She didn't exactly take teasing in stride, but she knew it was inevitable. Most of the time Lois seemed to be pretty contented with her life. She and Gene laughed together over something and then began to share a big plate of french fries.

  "No wonder she's so fat. Look what she's eating," Jessica noted fastidiously.

  Elizabeth shook her head in exasperation. "I've noticed you eating french fries once or twice."

  "Yeah, but I'm not fat," Jessica retorted. "How can she stand it?"

  "She seems to stand it just fine. Lois obviously isn't bothered by her weight. So why should it bother you?"

  "It doesn't bother me."

  "You could have fooled me!"

  "It's just that it's not healthy. That's all I'm saying."

  "Lois gets perfect attendance awards every year!" Elizabeth pointed out. "She keeps up in gym, she always looks full of life, and she's in love. What's not healthy about that?"

  Jessica looked at the ceiling and sighed. "Let's just drop it, OK?"

  "Fine with me," Elizabeth muttered, picking up her pen again.

  But she glanced over at Lois one more time. Lois would never be a fashion model, but she clearly had a great relationship with Gene, and her outlook on life was completely optimistic.

  So what difference did it make if she couldn't wear size-six jeans?

  None at all, Elizabeth told herself confidently. None at all.

  Four

  On the Wednesday of the second week of George's flying class, George called Robin from school. "I'm coming home on Friday," he said. "It'll be great to see you."

  Robin's pulse raced at the sound of his voice. "Oh, it will be great to see you," she said earnestly. "I've been thinking about you."

  "Me, too. Listen, I'm going to ask you something, and you can say no if you want." George paused. "How would it be if I brought Vicky along? She really wants to meet you. I'll call a friend and we can all go dancing. Would that be OK with you?"

  Robin's first reaction was to say "NO!" loud and clear. She wanted George all to herself. She wanted a chance to get back the confidence that had been slipping away. But she didn't want to introduce a sour note into the conversation, and besides, it was clear that George was really counting on inviting his friend.

  George probably felt sorry for Vicky, and inviting her to spend the evening with them was his way of being friendly.

  "That's fine," she said pleasantly.

  "Great. So, what have you been up to?"

  Robin toyed with the phone cord. "Not much. Mostly making plans for this fund-raising event at school."

  "Hey, just because I can't come up that often for a while doesn't mean you can't have fun, you know," George said in a cajoling voice.

  "I know." Robin laughed. "But I miss you."

  "I'll see you on Friday, OK?" he said tenderly. "Try not to be too lonely and pitiful until then."

  "I promise. Bye."

  After she hung up, Robin thought about what George had said. She knew it was ridiculous for her to sit at home feeling sorry for herself. She should be using her extra free time to her advantage—catching up on schoolwork and getting in more diving practice. But instead, she had been spending the time missing George.

  Robin shook her head as if to clear away the reproaches. At least Friday night would be fun. She could hardly wait.

  Thursday and Friday dragged by. Though Robin was busy with school and diving practice, her mind was set on Friday night. The only thing that captured her attention was typing out her notes on the Super Sundae. Just seeing them so neat in black and white made her feel that she had everything under control.

  Finally it was Friday evening. Robin put on her new skinny jeans and a light blue silk blouse. She didn't know how Vicky might dress, and she didn't want to take the chance of making George's friend feel frumpy. When she heard George's car in the driveway, she ran down to open the door.

  "Hi!" she called out as soon as the driver's door opened.

  "Hey, Rob!" George called. He said something to the person in the passenger seat and then got out. Robin ran down the walk to hug him.

  "Robin, this is Vicky Carter."

  Robin looked over George's shoulder and gaped.

  Vicky was tall and slim, with a cap of pale blond hair. Her bangs accentuated her huge dark eyes and made provocative wisps against her high cheekbones. Vicky was gorgeous.

  "Hi," Robin said, her heart pounding from the surprise.

  "It's really great to meet you, Robin." Vicky smiled. "George talks about you all the time."

  Robin turned and looked vacantly at George. "Where's . . .?"

  "It turned out Hal couldn't make it," George explained hastily. "So it's just the three of us."

  Robin swallowed. "Great," she said, trying to force a smile to her lips.

  Standing there in front of her house with George and Vicky, Robin could not remember what had convinced her that George's friend was a shy little mouse. Robin cursed herself for thinking that just because a girl was a whiz at math she was unattractive. It was the worst kind of sexist stereotyping, and Robin felt terrible for having fallen into it.

  And she also felt terrible about the way she was dressed. Compared to Vicky's stylishly short skirt and beige linen safari jacket, Robin was the one who felt like a frump.

  "Ready to go?" George asked.

  "Sure," Robin replied without enthusiasm.

  "It's so nice of you to invite me along," Vicky said cheerfully. "I feel like I know you already, Robin."

  As they got back into the car Robin felt a twinge of aggravation. She certainly didn't feel as if she knew Vicky. In fact, George had managed to leave out th
e most vital information about her, such as the fact that she looked as if she had just stepped out of the pages of Ingenue. Was George's behavior typical of guys his age, or was it deliberate? Robin glanced nervously at George, trying to find some trace of secrecy in his expression. But he looked the way he always did: handsome, cheerful, and self-confident.

  "I love dancing," Vicky said from the backseat. "I hardly ever have time to go, though, so I'm really psyched about tonight. I think you're terrific not minding my coming, Robin."

  "No problem." To Robin's ears her own voice sounded cold. If Vicky was someone George cared about, Robin knew she should try to be friendly. She didn't want George to be upset with her. She turned around and tried to smile.

  "I hear you're a real math whiz," she said, sounding slightly sarcastic without meaning to.

  Vicky rolled her eyes. "Yeah. It really comes in handy when you're figuring out the tip in a restaurant."

  "I'll bet!" George laughed loudly.

  Robin shot him a look. Vicky's response wasn't all that funny.

  "What are you majoring in, Vicky?" Robin forced a smile to her face.

  "Oceanography. That's one of the reasons I took up flying. It really helps if you can fly over areas of the ocean you're studying."

  "Oh, really?" Robin began. "I—"

  "Did you ever take Professor Richardson's class?" George cut in, glancing at Vicky in the rearview mirror.

  Robin stared straight ahead. George didn't seem to know she was there. She listened mutely while George and Vicky talked about their classes. By the time they arrived at the Beach Disco, Robin was well on her way to a terrible mood.

  The Beach Disco threw long rectangles of light onto the sand, and rhythmic music drifted from its windows. George parked the car and held both of his elbows out to the girls.

  "Ladies?"

  Vicky laughed and took one arm. Robin possessively hugged the other. She remained silent as they headed for the building, while George and Vicky chattered on about their flying class.

  How much time was George actually spending with Vicky? Robin began to wonder. From the tone of their conversation, Robin could tell they already considered themselves good friends. She felt a sting of resentment. George was obviously having a great time without her, both at flight school and here with Vicky.

  "You two go ahead and dance," Robin said as soon as they entered the disco. "I don't really feel like it right now."

  Vicky's dark eyes widened. "Are you sure?"

  "We'll be back soon." George and Vicky hurried to the dance floor.

  Robin slumped into a chair and frowned. From where she sat she could watch George and Vicky as they danced. Vicky was nearly George's height, and she danced beautifully. More than one boy on the dance floor stopped to look at her. And Vicky was talking and laughing with George as though she found him the most fascinating person in the world. George seemed to be enjoying the attention.

  It seemed clear to her now that Vicky's "so glad to meet you" act was just a way of winning George's favor. Why would a college girl like Vicky want to meet Robin? No, Robin decided, Vicky must really be interested in George.

  And how interested was George in Vicky? Robin knew perfectly well how strong emotions could arise when two people worked together in an involving, intense project. Their own relationship had started that way while Robin and George were first learning to fly. Though George had still been dating Enid at the time, he had fallen head over heels in love with Robin.

  A cold fist closed around Robin's heart. And who was to say it couldn't happen again? If George had been capable of cheating on Enid, didn't that mean he was capable of cheating on Robin?

  The loud dance music was beginning to give Robin a headache. She twisted one of the buttons on her shirt and tried not to give in to her awful suspicions.

  "Hey, Robin!" Jessica bounced over and sat down next to her. "Who's that girl with George?" Her blue eyes were alive with curiosity.

  One thing Robin had learned a long time ago was never to tell Jessica anything important. Jessica was prone to dramatizing the truth until the wildest rumors were flying around school. Now it was best to downplay Vicky's presence as much as possible.

  "Nobody. Just a friend of his from his flying class. Her date had to cancel, so we said she could come with us." That was the truth, Robin told herself, but with a slant that didn't make Robin look like such an idiot.

  And she felt like an idiot. Only an idiot would let her boyfriend get stolen right out from under her.

  "She's very pretty," Jessica said, watching Robin like a hawk.

  Robin smiled as casually as she could. "Yeah, I guess she is."

  When Robin didn't say anything more, Jessica shrugged and bounced away again. Robin's headache was getting worse.

  "Hi."

  Robin turned and saw a cute boy smiling at her. Instantly she felt flustered and awkward. She didn't know what to say.

  "Do you want to dance?" he asked.

  "No, I—uh—uh," Robin mumbled. She turned away and felt a fiery blush overtake her face.

  The truth was, Robin had never gotten used to attention from boys or to dating. Not long after having lost the weight, she had met George, and she had been with him ever since. In fact, aside from George, she didn't have much experience at all with boys. The cute boy gave her a sorry look and walked away. Robin felt stupid and clumsy.

  "That was great!" Vicky gasped as she returned to their table and sat down. She beamed a dazzling smile at Robin and pushed the hair off her forehead. "I must have looked like the worst klutz out there, though. I haven't danced in such a long time."

  "No way!" George scoffed.

  Robin returned Vicky's smile coldly. Klutz was the last thing anyone would call Vicky. In fact, Vicky was so elegant and poised in her stylish clothes that Robin felt positively drab. Were her jeans just a little too tight? Was the color of her shirt a little too flashy? She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She hadn't felt so insecure about her looks since—since she was fat.

  "I'll get us some sodas," George said.

  "Oh, thanks!" Vicky smiled again.

  Robin didn't say anything. She stared out absently at the dancers.

  "George talks about you all the time, Robin," Vicky said when he had gone. "He's just crazy about you. He said you were really great in that flying class you took together."

  "Really? That's what he says about you." Robin's tone made it plain how displeased she was with the comparison.

  "And that's just what I say about him." Vicky laughed. "He really loves flying, doesn't he?"

  It bothered Robin to hear Vicky discussing George's innermost feelings. She turned away and nodded. "Yeah, he does."

  Her cold snubs finally got through to Vicky. She blinked in surprise and looked around uncomfortably. "Oh, here comes George."

  Robin noticed the great relief in Vicky's voice. Robin tried to send George a message with her eyes, but he didn't seem to notice that she desperately wanted to leave.

  "How about dancing, Rob?" he asked. "I can't sit still."

  "You go ahead, Vicky," Robin said dismally. "I really don't feel like it."

  George gave Robin a questioning look, and when she smiled weakly, he shrugged and walked toward the dance floor with Vicky.

  After two miserable hours, Robin couldn't stand it anymore. When Vicky went to the ladies' room, Robin told George that she wanted to go home. George agreed reluctantly.

  "We were thinking about leaving pretty soon," George said when Vicky came back to the table.

  "Sure, no problem."

  Robin stood up and headed for the door.

  "Where did you get that blouse, Robin?" Vicky asked on the way home. "I've been admiring it all night."

  "Just some store. I forget."

  "It's a great color. I couldn't wear it. But it looks really nice on you."

  "Thanks," Robin muttered. Talking about her looks always made her feel uncomfortable, as if she were being examined under a m
icroscope.

  George sent her another puzzled glance. He was obviously bothered by Robin's unfriendly attitude. They drove in silence the rest of the way home.

  "You have such a cute house," Vicky said when they got to the Wilsons. "Would it be OK if I came in and used the bathroom?"

  "Sure." Robin slammed the car door shut and strode up the walkway.

  George hurried to catch up with her. "Are you feeling OK?" he asked in a whisper.

  "I'm fine," she replied shortly.

  When they were inside, Vicky stopped in front of a small watercolor by Fiona Maxwell and gasped. "This is wonderful!" she said. "I've heard of this artist. She's quite well known."

  "Yeah." Why did Vicky have to find the one thing in the house that would make her feel lousy? "She's my aunt."

  "No kidding! That's fantastic! You must be really proud to have someone like Fiona Maxwell in your family."

  Robin didn't feel proud at all. If Vicky only knew what Robin had been through with her aunt, she wouldn't have said that. Suddenly Robin felt as if everything were slipping out of her grasp. She wished that Vicky, and George, would just go away.

  "Who's this?" Vicky held up a small framed photograph of Robin that had been taken two years earlier. "Is she a cousin?"

  Robin snatched it out of her hands. "No. That's me."

  "You? Robin, you've lost so much weight! I'm really impressed," Vicky said sincerely.

  "Gee, thanks. I know I used to be fat, Vicky."

  There was a tense silence in the room. George stared at Robin in complete surprise, and Vicky looked very uncomfortable. Finally she spoke.

  "Well, if I could use the bathroom?"

  "Down the hall, first door on the left."

  When Robin and George were alone, he turned to look at her. "Robin? What's wrong with you tonight?"

  "Nothing." Robin dropped into a chair and stared at the floor.

  He frowned. "Listen, I have to drop Vicky off at her friend's house, where she's staying for the weekend. But I'll come over first thing in the morning, OK?"

  Robin shrugged and sank lower into her chair. "Fine. Bye."