Racing Hearts

by Francine Pascal

  “Jessica,” she said, stepping inside. “Jessica Wakefield.”

  “Not the Jessica Wakefield,” he said. “Daughter of Ned Wakefield, attorney at law?”

  “So you read office signs. I’m impressed,” Jessica said, a teasing note in her voice. Working in her father’s office might have its rewards after all. Already she was beginning to feel a tingle of excitement at the prospect of being in this boy’s arms. But she didn’t want him to know that—at least not until she had enough time to gauge his interest. Adjusting her tone slightly, she asked politely, “And you are—?”

  He extended a hand. “Dennis Creighton. I work part-time at my dad’s ad agency across the hall from your father. How come I haven’t seen you around here before?”

  “Today’s my first day on the job.” And my last, she thought. But something made her hold back that information. It was the glint in Dennis’s eyes. She’d seen that look too many times not to realize that it meant he was clearly taken with her. So far, so good, she thought, her own attraction mounting with each passing moment. A guy like Dennis could even be enough of a lure to make her want to stay on the job just a little while longer. “I’m on my way to the office-supplies store,” she told him, holding out the form in her hand.

  The glint in Dennis’s eyes worked its way down to his mouth, where a small smile was taking shape. “And how does it feel to be a working woman?” he asked. “Training for the secretarial life?”

  “Oh, no,” Jessica said, letting the fire from her blue-green eyes emphasize her words. “I’m planning to be a lawyer.”

  Dennis was definitely impressed. “Just what I like, a girl with ambition,” he said as they arrived at the main floor. “I hate girls who think planning ahead means picking out a new bathing suit to wear to the beach the next weekend.”

  “I know what you mean,” Jessica said, rolling her eyes meaningfully as she stepped out of the elevator. “I know too many girls like that, and the only people they interest are themselves.” She didn’t hesitate to add, “Of course I never pay any attention to them.” She didn’t want Dennis to think even for a moment that she might be that kind of girl.

  Dennis followed her out of the elevator. “No, I wouldn’t think a girl like you would have to waste her time on such trivial things—especially now that you’re working. How do you like your new job?”

  “It’s wonderful,” Jessica lied. “I’m so lucky my father’s giving me this opportunity to be here.”

  “Yeah, fathers are good for that,” Dennis agreed.

  Jessica turned her head back slightly as she continued to walk toward the store. “So how come I’ve never seen you around school?”

  “Maybe you haven’t been looking closely enough,” he said in a husky voice.

  “No, I pretty much know everyone at Sweet Valley High. Oh, I know. You go to the college, right? I don’t know too many people there except for my sister’s friend Enid’s boyfriend. George Warren. Know him?” There was a time when Jessica might have fibbed and said she went to Sweet Valley College if she felt it might make a good impression. But lying about her age had once gotten her into big trouble with a boy, and she wasn’t about to make that mistake again. It was one of the few areas where she believed that honesty was the best policy.

  Dennis seemed to hesitate a moment before answering. “I’m not in college. I go to El Carro.”

  “Oh, a rival, huh?” Jessica taunted as she gave Dennis a slow, careful once-over.

  Dennis studied the expression in Jessica’s aquamarine eyes as he tried to determine if he’d won her approval. “I’ll tell you this much. I wish I went to Sweet Valley.”

  “Well, I’m not going anywhere if I don’t get these forms,” she said breezily. “See you around sometime.” She moved away from him toward the store.

  “Yeah,” Dennis said, admiring Jessica’s back, adding under his breath, “you can count on it.”

  Four

  The rain had passed through Sweet Valley, leaving a sparkly clear horizon and pleasantly warm weather the following morning. It was a perfect day for the race trials, and everyone was excused from first-period class to cheer on the participants.

  Shading her eyes from the sun, Cara Walker peered out at the track. “I see Mark and Peter and Tony, but where’s Bruce?”

  “You know Bruce,” Lila said dryly. “He’s probably waiting to make his grand entrance. It wouldn’t surprise me if he bought himself a new running outfit just for this.”

  “Custom-made, I suppose,” Jessica said, a trace of sarcasm in her voice. She once had been involved with Bruce, and the aftermath of the affair still left a bitter taste in her mouth.

  “So how’s the law business?” Lila asked. “Defend anyone interesting yesterday?”

  “Don’t patronize me, Lila. As it happens, it was one of the most exciting afternoons I’d had in a long time.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Lila probed. “What’s his name?”

  For a split second Jessica looked surprised. Were her feelings that transparent? But then she realized that the remark was just Lila’s way of indicating she didn’t take Jessica’s interest in law too seriously. “His name is Ned Wakefield,” Jessica shot back. “And thanks to him, I had a very enlightening afternoon.”

  “Look, guys, there he is,” Cara interrupted, pointing toward the field.

  “Looks like you were right, Lila,” Cara said. “Mr. Big strikes again.”

  With an arrogance born of years of practice, Bruce Patman strutted slowly out of the dressing area and onto the track. His brand-new red running shorts were short enough to expose nearly the entire length of his long, muscled legs, while his white, sleeveless T-shirt emphasized his sleek, tanned arms. He had the look of a winner, and with the utmost confidence, he warmed up as the crowd continued to grow.

  Elizabeth Wakefield, sitting on the bench below her sister, paid scant attention to Bruce. Her mind was on Todd, and she scanned the stadium seats looking for him. “Where could he be?” she asked Enid Rollins, her best friend.

  “I saw him this morning. I imagine he’ll be here any second,” Enid said. “He knows you’re sitting here, doesn’t he?”

  “We had it all arranged,” Elizabeth said. She turned and looked behind her and saw Olivia Davidson walking down the bleacher steps with Roger. She marveled at the way Olivia seemed to glide effortlessly without tripping over her long skirt.

  Olivia acknowledged Elizabeth’s smile and sat down on the bench below her. “Hi, Elizabeth. I was sitting in the Oracle office, trying my best to avoid this spectacle, when this fellow over here abducted me.” She pointed to Roger, who was now staring intently at the track. Sensing that something was bothering him, Olivia gave him a little tap. “Hey, Roger, are you with us?”

  Roger turned around slowly. Elizabeth thought she spotted a look of wistfulness on his face. “You want to be out there, don’t you, Roger?” she asked gently.

  Too quickly, Roger responded, “Not me. Who’d want to be parading around in underwear in front of all these people?”

  “Only someone who might want to prove he’s the fastest runner in school,” Elizabeth challenged.

  “Bruce Patman, you mean,” Roger said.

  “I’m talking about you, Roger. You spend every afternoon running out of this place at breakneck speed. I can’t believe you’re not the least bit curious about how you’d rank next to those guys. Why aren’t you out there?”

  “I told you,” Roger said, his voice rising slightly. “I’m not interested in this stuff.” He was not only miffed that Elizabeth had mentioned his running, he was afraid she might force him to reveal the real reason he couldn’t participate in the race. Outside of his family, Elizabeth was the only person who knew about his job—a job he couldn’t afford to risk losing simply to run this race.

  “And why should he be?” Olivia questioned. “Roger’s never run in a race in his life.”

  “Maybe he ought to start. The first prize in the Bart is a scholarship to
Sweet Valley College,” Elizabeth pointed out.

  Olivia grew quiet. While she was unaware of Roger’s job, it was painfully obvious by his wardrobe that he could really use the scholarship. “Roger, maybe you ought to listen to Elizabeth,” she prodded.

  “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” Roger said, his anger evident in the tight lines that had formed around his mouth. “The subject is closed. I’m not going to run in this race!”

  But Elizabeth wasn’t through. “I think you’re making a big mistake.…”

  Lila overheard the conversation and was amused. “What’s with your sister?” she whispered to Jessica. “How come she wants to see Bugs Bunny run?”

  “Beats me,” Jessica said, her mind on how she could arrange to meet Dennis again. She’d left him rather abruptly the day before, hoping that she’d left him wanting more. But just in case she was wrong, she decided she’d better plan a way to ensure there’d be a second chance to attract him.

  “Well, watch this,” Lila said as an idea popped into her head. Rising so he could see her, Lila called out, “Hey, Roger, may I talk to you?”

  At first Roger didn’t react. But Jessica did, looking at Lila as if she were more than just a little crazy. “What are you trying to do?”

  “Just adding a little fun to the proceedings.” Lila smiled mysteriously. Then she called out a little louder, “Roger Barrett, would you please turn around?”

  It’s impossible, he thought. Lila Fowler can’t mean me. Not after yesterday. Finally Elizabeth nudged him. “I think Lila wants your attention.”

  As soon as he looked up at her, Lila turned on the sweetness. “I don’t mean to butt into your business, but I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation. I think Liz is right, Roger. You ought to be out there.”

  Roger still couldn’t believe his ears. “Why?” he asked her.

  Lila batted her eyelashes as she gazed at him. “I’ve seen the way you run around campus. You’re fast. I bet you’re faster than anyone in school.”

  “You really think so?” he wondered. His voice rose about an octave on the last word, betraying his nervousness at actually speaking to his dream girl.

  But if Lila noticed, she didn’t seem to care. “I’ve had my eye on you,” she went on, “and I’d bet you’re even faster than Bruce Patman. And, Roger,” she said, making her voice husky, “I’d love to see you beat him.”

  “I can’t,” Roger said.

  “You mean you’re afraid to find out?” Lila challenged him.

  Roger shook his head. “You don’t understand. It’s nothing like that at all.”

  His stubbornness surprised her, but she wasn’t ready to give up. “Prove it,” she demanded.

  “I can’t.” He heaved a deep sigh.

  Lila widened her eyes in disbelief. “You are afraid, Roger. And here I thought you were such a strong, forceful person. I’m disappointed in you, really and truly disappointed.” Clucking sadly, she made a big show of her disapproval by sitting down and pretending to pout.

  “Lila, wait!” he shouted. It didn’t take long for Roger to make up his mind. He had everything to gain and nothing to lose by getting on the field that day. At the moment he meant nothing to Lila, but if he ran and won, or ran and at least beat Bruce Patman, there was a chance of changing that. He wouldn’t have to run in the final race and risk his job; but if he had the honor of placing in the trials, it might help open Lila’s eyes.

  “You’re right, Lila,” he said, standing. “I should be in the race.”

  He raced down the bleacher steps, hopped over the short wire fence in front of the stands, and jogged over to Coach Schultz. “I’d like to run, sir,” he announced.

  Surprised by the late entry, the coach took off his cap and scratched his head. “That your running outfit, boy?”

  Roger looked down at his faded army fatigue pants and red T-shirt. His decision had come so fast, he hadn’t stopped to think about his clothing. The race was going to start any minute now, and there wasn’t time for him to change into his gym shorts. But at least he was wearing his only pair of sneakers. “I’m ready,” Roger announced. “Where do I go?”

  Coach Schultz chuckled. Having had Roger as a student in gym class, he was well aware of his ability to run. On more than one occasion, he had attempted to get Roger to try out for the track team but had stopped pursuing the issue after Roger’s repeated refusals. He wasn’t sure why the boy was interested in running now, but the coach wasn’t about to discourage him. “Take your mark in lane three, next to Patman,” Coach Schultz said, pointing to the oval. “The race starts in five minutes.”

  Roger smiled. “Thanks, Coach. I won’t let you down.”

  “I know you won’t,” he said. “Good luck.”

  Back in the stands, Lila finally let out the laughter she’d been suppressing during her entire conversation with Roger. “Do you believe that guy?” she commented to Jessica and Cara. “I can’t wait to see old Bugs make a fool of himself.”

  The girls joined in her laughter. “God, Lila, have you ever thought about becoming an actress?” Cara asked. “That was one of the finest con jobs I’ve seen in a long time. You even had me convinced there for a while.”

  “When you’re on, you’re on,” Lila said, obviously proud of herself.

  “Yeah, well your boyfriend stands as much chance of beating Bruce as I have of getting an A in chemistry,” Jessica said.

  Lila turned serious. “Don’t call that nerd my boyfriend,” she hissed. “Someone might believe you.”

  “I don’t know, Lila,” Jessica continued. “Maybe Liz ought to put in a few lines about you two in ‘Eyes and Ears.’” She was referring to the gossip column her sister wrote for the school paper. “I think you’d make a lovely couple.”

  “That’s enough, Wakefield,” Lila said, her eyes shooting pure venom now. “It’s just a joke, remember?”

  Lila’s words made Olivia’s stomach churn. Perhaps more than anyone else, she knew how much Roger liked Lila and how hurt he’d be to find out that her interest in him was a sham. But Olivia was unable to raise her voice against the popular girl. Though Olivia was well liked by most of her classmates, Lila looked upon her and her unconventional ways with disdain, and Olivia knew that Lila wouldn’t take anything she said seriously.

  But Elizabeth had also heard enough from Lila, and she had no qualms about criticizing her. “You’re cruel, Lila,” she said, her normally pleasant voice taking on a sharp edge. “That guy really likes you.”

  “Hey, I was only trying to do him a favor. Seems to me you were begging him to get out there and weren’t getting anywhere. Maybe you’re just jealous I’ve succeeded where you failed?”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it,” Elizabeth went on. “The only reason he’s out there now is because of you. What’s going to happen when he gets off the field and finds out you were laughing at him all this time?”

  “You’re being too sensitive, Liz. Roger knows there can never be anything between us. We have nothing in common.”

  That was certainly true, Elizabeth thought. Roger had integrity, compassion, and warmth, and all Lila had was a pretty face and a fat charge account. But she left that unsaid. “Maybe I am being sensitive, Lila,” she said, “because I know Roger, and you don’t. But the one thing I’m glad about is that he’s out there running. If I’m right, he’s going to blow everyone off the field.”

  “Hey, Liz, how come you’ve become Roger’s one-person rooting section?” Jessica asked.

  “Because I believe in him, Jess.”

  “Well, what about Todd?”

  “What about him?” Elizabeth wondered.

  “Don’t you believe in him, too? Or have you suddenly switched allegiance?”

  “What are you talking about, little sister?” Elizabeth said in the exasperated tone she reserved for the times she lost patience with Jessica. She was only four minutes older than her sister, but at times like this she
felt those minutes were more like years. “You know that nothing could come between Todd and me.”

  “So how come you’re not cheering for him?” Jessica wanted to know. She pointed to the field.

  This time it was Elizabeth’s turn to be surprised. She followed her sister’s gaze to the track, where Todd was doing warm-ups. Dressed in gym shorts and running shoes, he was obviously going to compete in the trials. Elizabeth stared at him openmouthed. “What’s he doing there?”

  “You mean you didn’t know?” Jessica asked.

  Something peculiar is going on here, Elizabeth thought. Although Todd was a fine basketball player, he had never before expressed much interest in running, let alone in this race. Her curiosity mounting, she continued to stare at him as he took his mark along with the other contestants.

  Five

  “Well, well, what do we have here?” Bruce Patman eyed Roger disdainfully. “I think you made a wrong turn, Roger. The freak show’s at the circus down at the civic center.”

  Roger didn’t answer, but took his place ahead of Bruce in the adjoining lane. Because it was to be a mile race, the runners would be making a staggered start. The longer he remained silent, the more Bruce teased him.

  “This is a race for runners, not for water boys. Who said you could be out here?” Bruce turned to Mark Riley the captain of the track team. “Do you believe this, Mark?” he called out. “I guess this is what they mean by equal opportunity. Even bozos get to race.”

  Roger still said nothing. In a way he was glad Bruce was making fun of him. It gave him even more of a reason to try his best. This wasn’t the first time Bruce had treated him this way—once he’d told Roger that the sweat shirt he wore in gym was so old it belonged in a museum—and he was sure it wasn’t going to be the last time either.

  “Hey, Roger, haven’t you heard of running shorts?” Bruce went on. “Or are you embarrassed to show off your legs?”

  “Patman, cut it out,” Todd snapped from his lane. “We’ve all heard enough.”