Racing Hearts

by Francine Pascal

  “Why can’t you do it at home?”

  “Oh, Daddy, you know my friends. The phone at home will probably be ringing all night. Here I know I’ll have the peace and quiet I need.”

  “OK, Jess,” her father said. “But only on two conditions. One, you don’t stay later than nine o’clock, and two, that you ring up the night guard and have him escort you to the car. You can’t be too safe around here at night.”

  “Sure thing, Daddy.” She gave him a kiss. “Have a good meeting.”

  “See you at home,” her father said. “I can’t tell you, Jess, how happy it makes me to see you becoming so responsible. Just don’t work yourself too hard now.”

  “Don’t worry, Daddy, I won’t,” she assured him. Far from it. If her plan continued to go as she’d envisioned it, she was in for one of the most pleasurable evenings she’d had in a long time.

  * * *

  Jessica arrived home that night at nine-thirty. When Elizabeth came into Jessica’s room to find out whether or not her sister was enjoying the working world, she was puzzled by the look of rapture on her twin’s face. “I can’t believe how two days of work have changed you, Jess. Dad said you actually stayed late to do homework?”

  Her twin picked up a nail file from her night table and began working on her nails. In a hushed voice she said, “Please don’t tell Dad, but that’s not why I stayed. I don’t want to get into this with him, Liz, but his office is a mess. Supplies are all over the place, and there doesn’t seem to be an orderly system of doing anything.”

  Elizabeth was perplexed. “That doesn’t sound like Dad, Jess.”

  “Liz, you haven’t been in his office since that witch Trudy arrived.” She said the name as if it were a plague. “She’s awful. I don’t know why Dad keeps her on. Anyway, I spent the entire time straightening out the supply room. It’ll probably take me a couple of days to finish working it all out. Don’t tell Dad, though. I want it to be a surprise.”

  Elizabeth lowered herself onto a corner of Jessica’s unmade bed. “I have to admit I would never have thought you’d take to work the way you have.”

  “I’m really committed to it,” Jessica said, her mind on the delectable way Dennis’s kisses set her neck on fire. Phase two had been a stunning success, even better than she’d planned. “Putting in a few extra hours is the least I can do. Besides, I do have an ulterior motive.”

  Elizabeth cut in. “I knew there was something else going on. Dad get a new office boy?”

  “Elizabeth Wakefield, you’ve got a one-track mind!” Jessica said petulantly, crossing her legs underneath her as she began to file the nails on her other hand. “I wasn’t even thinking about boys,” she lied. “What I was going to say—before you so rudely interrupted me—is that I’d like to be doing more than office chores. I’m hoping that Dad will see my interest and make me his assistant. You may not believe it, Liz, but for the first time in my life I’m actually anxious to go to work.” She put down her file. “I don’t even miss going to the Dairi Burger.”

  “It’s only been two days,” Elizabeth pointed out.

  “Two of the most rewarding days of my life.” Jessica got up and pranced toward her desk. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I really do have some homework for tomorrow, and if it’s going to get done, I have to start now.” She flung open her French book and began to read it even before Elizabeth left the room.

  But Jessica couldn’t concentrate on the assignment—not that she had really expected to be able to. She just wanted some privacy to replay the evening with Dennis in her mind. It hadn’t taken them long to dispense with the formalities and take up where they’d left off in Dennis’s father’s office. His kisses were as satisfying as Jessica could want, and he was eager to please her, though enough of a gentleman to realize when their passions were reaching the point beyond which they would no longer be able to control themselves.

  Dennis didn’t seem to mind at all when Jessica had suggested spending the entire date in the office. In fact, it was his idea they meet there again the following evening. That suited Jessica’s plans for phase three perfectly. The way she figured it, by the end of the week he’d be hooked on her for sure and more than willing to pick her up at her house for a regular date. Then she’d feel justified in quitting her job, which she found to be nothing but drudgery. A week was long enough to serve as a trial period for anyone, and even Elizabeth would be convinced that her attempt at working had been a sincere one. Everybody would be happy, Jessica concluded, looking forward to the day she could stop keeping Dennis a secret and introduce him to the rest of the world.

  * * *

  Two days later, Lila, Jessica, and Cara were standing in line at the cafeteria. Lila seemed preoccupied, searching the room furtively with her deep brown eyes and hoping Jessica wouldn’t notice.

  But she should have known better than to think she could keep anything from Jessica. Even though it was twin sister Elizabeth who wrote the school’s gossip column, Jessica was a master snoop and always made it her business to know everything that was going on. “Who are you looking for?” she asked Lila as they approached the counter.

  “Oh, no one in particular,” Lila said breezily.

  Jessica lowered an eyebrow. “Could it be Roger, perhaps?”

  Lila sighed. “For a guy who’s had a crush on me for months, he sure is playing hard to get.” Lila paid for her lunch and joined Jessica and Cara at a table on the patio. “I decided to watch him practice yesterday, but he never showed up. When I finally got him on the phone last night, he said some family thing had come up, something he didn’t want to talk about. I asked him to join me here for lunch today, and he said he was flattered, but now I’m not so sure he’s going to show up.”

  “That’s surprising, considering the way he’d been salivating after you like a hungry puppy.” Jessica took a large bite out of her cheeseburger.

  Lila looked at her friend with envy. She couldn’t see how Jessica could eat so much and never gain an ounce. Lila had to work like crazy to keep her slender figure. “I wonder where he could be?”

  “Maybe he has to practice,” Cara pointed out. “The coach might have him making up yesterday’s session.”

  “You’re a genius, Cara. That’s got to be it,” Lila agreed. “We really did have a wonderful talk last night. He’s actually a funny guy. Did you know he does an absolutely wicked imitation of Mademoiselle Dalton?”

  “I’m sure that made him score a lot of points in your book,” Jessica noted. The young French teacher had dated Lila’s father for a while, and she and Lila were hardly what anyone would call best buddies.

  “And did you notice the way everyone is talking about him? Overnight he’s become the darling of the entire school.”

  “And now you intend to make him your darling, right?” Cara asked.

  Lila took a sip of her soda. “You’d better believe it, honey.”

  “Has he asked you out yet?” Jessica asked.

  “No. I get the feeling Roger’s a little shy around girls. But don’t think that’s going to stop me. I have my ways. You just wait and see who’ll be with Roger at the Bart dance.”

  * * *

  Roger had just finished taking a quiz in his Spanish class the following Monday afternoon when he was called down to Coach Schultz’s office. He took his time walking down the empty hallway, fully aware of the reason he was being summoned.

  He dreaded the confrontation, realizing he should have cleared up this matter the week before. But the temptation to hold onto his newfound status was too overwhelming to resist. Every morning as he dressed for school he’d tell himself this was the day he’d tell the coach the truth. But then he’d run into someone on the lush Sweet Valley campus who would give him the thumbs-up sign or tell him how the school was rooting for him, and his resolve would crumble. The people watching him held looks of admiration and respect, things he’d never before experienced and probably never would again
once he announced his intention not to run.

  Coach Schultz was leaning back in his old wooden swivel chair when Roger arrived. He was grim-faced as usual, but Roger could detect a further hardening in the coach’s expression as he walked into the office. “Take a seat, Roger,” he said.

  The boy sat in the only seat available, a wooden stool to the right of the desk. His knees buckled under his jeans.

  The coach got right to the point. “What kind of game are you trying to play?” he asked. “When I order you to practice, I expect you to be there. You think you’re so special you don’t need it?”

  “No, sir,” Roger interjected. “That’s not it.”

  The coach went on. “Now take Patman. I expected him to be the cocky one, giving me a lot of sass about running extra laps and wind sprints. But no, he shows up after school—much to my surprise, I might say—ready for practice. You put a scare into him, my boy. He doesn’t like to lose, and he’s going all out to win. Which is more than I can say for you.”

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Roger began. “And I can explain—”

  “You have no idea what I’m thinking, son.” The coach rose and turned around to the bulletin board behind his desk. “You see this fella?” he asked, pointing to a faded black-and-white photo. “That’s Jack Ralston. Do you know what he’s doing today?”

  Roger shook his head. “No, sir.”

  “He’s the president of one of the largest research labs in the state,” he said with obvious pride. “And to a large degree he owes it all to the Bart. That’s what I’m thinking about, Roger. I’m thinking about what the Bart can do for you and how you appear to be letting it slip through your fingers.”

  “I’m not following you, sir.”

  “I’m talking about the scholarship. Jack couldn’t afford to go to college until the Bart came along. The scholarship he won to Sweet Valley College gave him an education he might never have received. You want to go on to college, don’t you, Roger?”

  “Yes, Coach.”

  “A full scholarship to Sweet Valley College could make all the difference in the world. Why are you throwing away your chance?” Coach Schultz said, the anger evident in his voice. “You’re a fine runner, and my money’s on you to win, but you don’t stand a ghost of a chance if you don’t practice.” The coach paused as the bell rang. “Think about it, Roger. I want to see you at practice this afternoon. I’ve got to get to the gym now.”

  Coach Schultz picked up his whistle and walked out of the room, leaving Roger to think over what he had said. Roger knew the coach was right, but even the grand prize of a full scholarship would be useless if he lost his job. The way Roger figured it, with his good grades he stood an excellent chance of winning a scholarship anyway. But he needed the money from his job right now to help pay his family’s bills. And winning the race wasn’t a sure thing, anyway. If he took the chance of losing his job and ended up losing the race, too, he’d wind up with nothing. By not running in the race, at least he wouldn’t be any worse off than he was now.

  Roger was preoccupied with his situation as he walked down the hallway to his next class. He didn’t even notice Lila approaching until they practically bumped into each other.

  “Well, well, if this isn’t a pleasant surprise,” Lila said, smiling sweetly.

  “Oh, hi, Lila,” Roger said, a smile lighting up his own face. “Sorry I couldn’t join you at lunch today. I had to practice.” Actually he’d been doing his homework in the library.

  “Oh, that’s OK,” Lila said. “But I’m glad I caught you. How’d your practice go?”

  Roger shuffled his feet uneasily. “Oh, well, OK,” he lied.

  Lila smiled. “Don’t be so modest. You’re very talented, and there’s nothing wrong with letting the world know about it. In fact, I even wrote a little poem about you. I wanted to have it run in The Oracle, but your friend Olivia rejected it. I’d like you to hear it, though. Got a second?”

  Roger was amazed that Lila had taken the time to write about him. “Sure, go ahead.”

  Lila deftly plucked a folded piece of white paper from her shoulder bag and began to read dramatically.

  Roger Barrett, a boy so fine.

  His speedy running is so divine.

  In school, too, he is very smart.

  He’ll walk away with the trophy at the Bart.

  In everything he operates at the highest stratum.

  We at Sweet Valley are so proud we have him.

  * * *

  She paused to let the words sink in. “Well, what do you think?”

  “Um, what can I say? Thanks.” Roger was glad Olivia had had the good sense to save Lila the humiliation of having it published. The poem was awful. “It was very thoughtful of you,” he added diplomatically.

  “I know,” Lila said. “I just wanted to make sure you realize that we’re all behind you one hundred percent. We want you to win. I’ve even asked Jessica to write a new cheer for you for the race.” Lila clapped her hand to her mouth. “I don’t believe I said that. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

  “You shouldn’t have gone to all that trouble, Lila. Really you shouldn’t have,” Roger emphasized.

  “There’s that modesty again.” Lila shook her head. “It’s my pleasure to do these things for you. I was also thinking you’re probably going to be very hot and tired after your race practice today. Why don’t you join me for a little swim in my pool?”

  Roger’s eyes grew wide. He couldn’t imagine anything he’d like more—and anything that was so far from ever becoming a reality. “I’d like to,” he said. “But I can’t.”

  “Why not?” Lila pouted, fingering his shirt seductively. “What can you be doing that’s more important than that?”

  “I—I can’t tell you,” he said. “Not yet. Listen, I’ve got to get to class. I’ll talk to you later.” He ran down the hall before Lila had the chance to make him say something he knew he shouldn’t.

  “We’ll see what happens,” Lila said, her face hardening. She wasn’t used to being turned down, and she didn’t like it.

  Eight

  Elizabeth Wakefield peered around the stairwell door in her father’s office building and looked down the hallway. She felt a little silly playing detective, but she’d come to the conclusion that she’d never figure out what her sister was doing unless she saw it herself. For an entire week Jessica had been staying late at the office, but her reasoning was starting to wear a little thin. How long could it take to fix up a supply cabinet?

  When she had entered the building, Elizabeth had had to sign in at the night guard’s desk. She had deliberately scrawled her name illegibly—she didn’t want anyone to recognize it. She was glad she had worn her jacket with a hood; with her hair covered and the hood tied closely around her face, the guard would be less likely to mistake her for Jessica. As she was about to get on the elevator, she had spotted Roger Barrett making his way toward the front of the building, pulling his mop and pail alongside him. Not wanting to embarrass him and not wanting to be spotted herself, Elizabeth had slunk toward the stairs and quietly walked up the four flights to her father’s floor.

  Now, she tiptoed toward the office. Through the frosted glass door, she could see the silhouettes of two people standing close together, and from the sound of things, it appeared they weren’t talking about legal matters.

  “Mmm…” Jessica murmured. “No one kisses the way you do.”

  “There’s plenty more where that came from,” Dennis said.

  So it was a boy, Elizabeth thought, her deepest suspicions confirmed.

  “How’d you like that?” Dennis asked softly after what must have been one of the longest kisses in Sweet Valley history.

  “Delicious,” Jessica said, snuggling up to him. “But doesn’t it bother you just a teensy bit that we spend all our time in this office?”

  “I’d hardly call this suffering. Would you?”

  “Well, no…” Jessica began.

 
; Dennis continued. “Besides, where else can we go? Your dad thinks you’re here doing your homework. What if he were to call up and get no answer?”

  “I’m not necessarily talking about weeknights,” Jessica hinted.

  “We’re just getting to know each other. We’ve got plenty of time,” Dennis told her. “There’s no need to rush into anything.”

  Jessica sighed. “I suppose you’re right.” It wasn’t her style to give up so easily, but she didn’t want to let Dennis think she cared that much.

  The blond-haired boy traced Jessica’s lips with his fingertip. “Hey, no frowns allowed here.” He kissed her once gently, then again, with more insistence. “Tell you what. Let’s go out right now.”

  “But what about Dad?”

  Dennis thought a moment. “Call him up and tell him you’re going to grab a bite to eat before coming home.”

  “Great thinking,” Jessica said, brightening considerably. She got up and went to the phone.

  That was Elizabeth’s signal to make herself invisible. Moving like a cheetah, she found refuge behind a nearby water fountain and waited for them to come out of the office.

  The boy was helping Jessica on with her sweater. “What do you say we go to Guido’s? It’s close by, and then afterward I’ll walk you to your car,” he said, leading her toward the elevator.

  Normally Jessica left before Dennis and had the night guard see her to her car. “Oh, I was hoping you’d give me a ride home, Dennis. I didn’t bring my car today. My sister begged me to lend it to her, and I couldn’t bear to turn her down.”

  Elizabeth resented being used as a convenient excuse for her twin. The only reason she herself had the car that night was because their mother had needed it during the day and had turned down Jessica’s request for it. The twins were allowed to use the little red Fiat only when their mother didn’t need it for her job as an interior designer. Elizabeth knew their parents would be furious if they discovered the real reason Jessica had been begging them to lend her the car the previous week. Jessica had convinced them that the buses ran so infrequently that she needed the car if she was going to stay late at the office to do her homework. Fortunately for Jessica, Alice Wakefield’s design business was going through a slow period, so she hadn’t needed the car as much as usual, and she had been very pleased that her normally flighty daughter was becoming so serious and responsible.