White Lies (Sweet Valley High Book 52)

by Francine Pascal

  WHITE LIES

  Written by

  Kate William

  Created by

  FRANCINE PASCAL

  Copyright © 2015, Francine Pascal

  WHITE LIES

  John started the engine and backed up, keeping Rick Andover's Camaro in sight.

  In the glare of the streetlights, Elizabeth studied John's face. His jaw was set, and he looked fiercely determined. Feeling disturbed, she stared through the windshield at Rick Andover's taillights. She couldn't help wishing she and John weren't doing this.

  "He's pulling over," she spoke up moments later.

  John nodded and slowed. Then he carefully pulled up to the curb behind another car. He and Elizabeth watched as Rick casually looked left and right, then sauntered across the street. His dark hair cast a shadow on his face and made him look sinister and furtive.

  With a jolt Elizabeth realized Rick was heading for the Mello Music Shop, where he worked. A streetlight illuminated the front of the shop, spotlighting a drum set, an amplifier, and a gleaming electric guitar. Rick disappeared into the alley beside the shop. John and Elizabeth waited in tense silence.

  Suddenly, a fleeting, stealthy movement in the darkness caught Elizabeth's eye.

  "John!" Elizabeth grabbed his arm. While they watched, the electric guitar rose up and disappeared into the black emptiness of the shop. A patch of light outlined a hand gripping the neck of the guitar before it vanished.

  "He's stealing it," she breathed, her heart pounding. She turned to John. "He's robbing the store!"

  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  One

  Elizabeth Wakefield removed the cover from a typewriter in the Oracle office and sat down, deep in thought. Writing her weekly column for Sweet Valley High's student newspaper was a constant challenge, but one she enjoyed. She frowned slightly as she rolled a sheet of paper into the typewriter. Then she began tapping out the latest installment of "Eyes and Ears."

  Even though it was officially a gossip column, "Eyes and Ears" was never spiteful or malicious. Elizabeth always kept it lighthearted, and as a rule, most people were thrilled to be featured in it. Elizabeth's blue-green eyes sparkled with amusement as she typed.

  Just as she sat back to reread her work, the door to the Oracle office burst open.

  "Liz! There you are!" Jessica Wakefield rushed in like a cyclone. "You've got to say yes, Liz," Jessica cried dramatically. "Please, please, please say yes!"

  Elizabeth gave her identical twin sister a skeptical look. "What exactly am I supposed to be agreeing to? Holding up a bank? Giving you all my worldly goods?"

  "Oh, come on, Liz!" A splutter of laughter escaped from Jessica as she perched on the edge of a desk and dropped her pink duffel bag onto the floor. Tossing back her spun-gold hair, Jessica added, "Would I ask that?"

  For a moment Elizabeth was tempted to answer with a deafening yes. With Jessica, everything was absolutely urgent, whether it was wearing the perfect outfit or waiting to make a grand entrance at a party. And sometimes little details got overlooked, like whose clothes she was wearing or who she was causing to wait for her. She was tempestuous and exciting, a self-centered five-foot-six whirlwind.

  And the most amazing thing about Jessica was that she was Elizabeth's identical twin. Superficially, the two girls looked like carbon copies. Both of them shared the same tan-California-girl beauty, the same sunny blond hair and perfect size-six figure. Right down to their identical gold lavalieres and the dimples in each girl's left cheek, the Wakefield twins were mirror images of each other. But that's where the resemblance ended.

  While Jessica was flighty and inconsistent, Elizabeth was steady and thoughtful. She enjoyed reading, thinking, talking with her close friends, and doing things with her boyfriend, Jeffrey French. People instinctively knew that Elizabeth was a sympathetic friend, and everyone turned to her for advice. By contrast, Jessica was known to be interested in only one person—herself.

  But in spite of their differences, Elizabeth and Jessica had a special bond that no one else could understand. Elizabeth knew her twin better than anyone else ever would, and despite the trouble Jessica sometimes caused, Elizabeth was fiercely loyal to her twin.

  "OK, what is it?" Elizabeth asked, heaving a deep sigh.

  Jessica smiled angelically. "It's just one tiny favor, Liz. Mom asked me to do some laundry this afternoon, but A.J. and I are dying to go to the Dairi Burger—and everyone's going, so it's almost like I have to go. Mom'll kill me if it isn't done by dinner, so could you do it for me, please?" she asked in a rush, her eyes wide and appealing.

  Elizabeth remained silent. The twins' mother, Alice Wakefield, worked full-time as an interior designer, so the twins were responsible for many of the household chores. Somehow, though, Jessica managed to wriggle out of at least one obligation a week. And it was usually Elizabeth who took up the slack.

  "Liz?" Jessica began to look worried. "Lizzie? I know I've asked you for millions of favors, but this time I'll do something incredibly great to pay you back. Really. Honest. I just have to go."

  The panic in Jessica's voice finally got to Elizabeth. She let out a dry chuckle and nodded. "OK, OK. I don't want to deprive you of something so crucial," she said, giving her twin a knowing look. The truth was, Jessica and her friends went to the Dairi Burger almost every day. But who was counting? Jessica beamed at her happily, and Elizabeth added, "Maybe later you could hand-wash that silk sweater of mine you borrowed."

  "Sure, Liz, whatever." Jessica had already jumped off the desk and was heading for the door. "See you later," she sang out as she rushed from the office.

  There was a stumbling sound out in the hall, and Elizabeth heard her twin giggle an apology. Then John Pfeifer, the Oracle's sports editor, came in, grappling with an armload of books.

  "Just had a head-on collision?" Elizabeth asked, her eyes twinkling.

  John nodded and gave her an absent smile while he dumped his books in a slithering heap on a table.

  "That's Jessica," Elizabeth said. "She doesn't exactly look before she leaps." Jessica was always in a hurry to do something, and lately everything she did involved her new boyfriend, A. J. Morgan. They had been together for some weeks, a record for Jessica, Elizabeth reflected. The relationship had gotten off to a rocky start, due to a tangle of misunderstandings and one of Jessica's legendary plans. But now the two were inseparable. And as much as Elizabeth hated to admit it, she was a little surprised at how long the romance had lasted. But she was happy for her twin.

  She turned back to her typewriter to add a few final lines to her column. When she had finished, she glanced over at John. He was sitting hunched over a handful of papers, scowling.

  "What's up?" she asked.

  John didn't say anything. "John?"

  He jumped slightly and looked up. "Sorry. What?"

  "I just said what's up? Is everything all right?" she prodded gently.

  "Oh. Sure—I'm just writing up the varsity soccer game, that's all," he replied. With an obvious effort at sounding casual, he added, "Jeffrey had a great game."

  Elizabeth's boyfriend was one of the team's starters, and lately his playing had been brilliant.

  Elizabeth smiled politely, but she was concerned by John's moodiness. Usually he was one of the most cheerful, easygoing guys
at school. Lately, though, he had seemed introspective and withdrawn. She couldn't help feeling sympathetic toward John, because working together for so long on the newspaper had made them good friends.

  "Are you sure something isn't—I don't know—getting you down?" Elizabeth asked. "I mean, I don't want to be nosy, but you seem kind of depressed."

  John let out a long sigh and hitched his chair closer to the desk. Biting his lower lip, he drummed his pencil against one palm and stared at his newspaper article. He nodded, then looked up at Elizabeth.

  "I don't know—it's just—" He frowned. "It's just— Do you know Jennifer Mitchell?"

  Elizabeth pictured the pretty sophomore and nodded. "I don't know her well, but I know who she is." Jennifer's long, straight blond hair and cleft chin made her attractive in an unusual but memorable way.

  "See—our families have been friends for ages and, well . . ." A warm blush swept across his face, finishing his sentence for him without words.

  "I know," Elizabeth offered, smiling warmly. "You think she's pretty special, I guess."

  He gave her a lopsided grin and shrugged. "Yeah."

  Their eyes met, and a look of understanding passed between them. "So why are you so down?" Elizabeth asked.

  The grin faded from John's face. He folded his arms across his chest and slumped in his chair. "Well, she doesn't exactly feel the same way, but that's not even the real problem," he added hastily. His expression was troubled while he continued. "See, she's started hanging around with Rick Andover. He's the first guy she's ever really gone out with, and she talks about him all the time. She really thinks he's cool."

  Elizabeth stared at John with pity. If it were just a case of jealousy, that would be one thing. But she knew perfectly well why John was so concerned with the situation: Rick Andover was trouble. Serious trouble.

  In fact, Rick Andover almost ruined Elizabeth's own reputation at one point. It all started with Jessica, naturally. The handsome, dark-haired dropout was definitely attractive—in a dangerous kind of way—and Jessica had fallen for him hard. When Jessica was brought home by the police after Rick got into a fight at a sleazy bar, rumor spread that it was Elizabeth going out with him, and people started giving her the cold shoulder. Of course, the whole mess was eventually straightened out, but ever since then, every time Elizabeth heard about some exploit or scrape with the law involving Rick Andover, she had to repress a shudder. So if the girl John Pfeifer cared about was head over heels in love with Rick, Elizabeth could only feel sorry for John.

  "That's—that's terrible," she said lamely. At the moment she didn't know what else to say.

  John rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and it's practically all my fault, too," he muttered. When Elizabeth looked surprised, he explained. "See, she plays the piano, electric keyboards and stuff. I drove her to the Mello Music Shop to look at sheet music a couple of weeks ago, and he works there. They started talking, and he acted like she was the hottest thing to hit music since Elvis Presley."

  "That's his style, I guess," Elizabeth said. She shook her head as she looked at him. "But doesn't she know he has a really bad reputation? I mean, he's been arrested before," she added on a note of concern.

  John made an impatient gesture with one hand. "Drunk driving, brawling, vandalism—she knows it all, thanks to her father. He's a lawyer—you know, at Wells and Wells?" Elizabeth nodded and he went on. "So anyway, Mr. Mitchell sometimes volunteers legal help down at Juvenile Hall, so he's seen Rick's whole sheet."

  "But Jennifer doesn't care?" Elizabeth pushed. "Doesn't she realize . . . ?"

  He met her eyes squarely. "She thinks he gets in trouble because he's lonely and deprived. He gave her this long sob story about his unhappy childhood. I don't know. She feels sorry for him, I guess."

  Elizabeth bit back a sarcastic reply because she knew John really needed a friendly ear. Privately, though, she had to think that Jennifer was a pretty bad judge of character to fall for a guy like Rick. But if John liked her, she had no business criticizing the girl. And besides, John looked completely miserable.

  "I mean, I don't get it," he exploded suddenly. "How can she like the guy? He's bad news and a total loser!" John's green eyes were filled with hurt and anger, and he smacked his pencil down on the desk vehemently.

  Elizabeth hazarded a guess. "Well, maybe she thinks she can help him." She gave John a doubtful look. "I mean, I know some girls think they can change a guy. You know, reform him."

  "He'll never change," John scoffed.

  Shrugging, Elizabeth added, "I'm not saying I would feel that way, but I know that that's attractive sometimes."

  John curled his lip. "That's sick." His tone wasn't as harsh as his words, however. He sounded more upset and sad than outraged.

  Elizabeth met his eyes again and shook her head helplessly. "I don't know what else to tell you."

  "It's just wrong, that's all I'm saying. And it burns me up that she can't see what he's really like," John continued. He ran one hand through his wavy hair and sighed. "If she wasn't so naive, he'd never get away with it, you know? Why did she have to choose him for a first boyfriend? I just wish I could straighten her out, that's all."

  "Well, it doesn't sound like she wants to be straightened out," Elizabeth said gently. "But, who knows, maybe she'll just open her eyes one day and realize Rick's a phony. And when she opens her eyes, she'll also see you," she added with a coaxing smile.

  John shrugged self-consciously. "I don't know . . ."

  Elizabeth looked at him silently for a moment, wishing she could make everything better. She knew how it felt to see someone you cared for making big mistakes—she watched her twin make gigantic mistakes all the time. But in her experience there wasn't anything to be done about it. Most times people had to find out for themselves what they were doing wrong. Telling someone what to do rarely did any good, and it often led to even more trouble.

  "Listen, all you can do is be a friend to her," Elizabeth suggested. John met her eyes and then looked away. "Really—just stick by her and be there for her when she needs help."

  John was silent for a moment, staring off across the newspaper office. "That's the problem. I get the feeling when she needs my help, it'll be because Rick Andover's gotten her into major trouble."

  "Oh, come on," Elizabeth said with an attempt at lightness. But she secretly thought the sports editor was right.

  John shook his head stubbornly and set his jaw. "I'm just afraid of what could happen. Knowing that guy, it could really be bad news."

  Two

  Jessica blew on the back of A.J.'s neck while he tried for bonus points on the pinball machine. A lazy smile curled up the sides of her mouth as she tried to break his concentration. She tugged on a lock of his wavy red hair.

  "A.J.," she crooned, her mouth close to his ear. Her vivid blue-green eyes sparkled mischievously.

  "Yeah?" A.J. didn't take his eyes off the machine, and a frown of intense absorption wrinkled his forehead.

  "Aaaay-Jaaaay," she whispered.

  Throwing her a lopsided grin, A.J. shook his head and released another ball. "It won't work, Wakefield," he teased, matching her look.

  Jessica giggled. "I don't know what you're talking about."

  "Yeah. Right."

  Jessica smiled and looked at A.J.'s profile. She loved his lean, chiseled jawline and the serious, thoughtful expression in his brown eyes. He could be quiet and studious, and he loved poetry, but he could also beat the best player at pinball, too. Jessica tried again to distract him by lightly rubbing his arm.

  Without taking his eyes off the pinball machine, A.J. drawled, "Forget it. Yes!" He interrupted himself with a whoop of triumph. "Two hundred thousand!"

  Jessica shrieked and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. "Finally. Now can we sit down?" she asked, smiling up at him.

  "Don't I get a victory kiss?" A.J. raised his eyebrows a fraction, waiting.

  Jessica's heart flip-flopped with excitement. Even though they
had been dating for weeks, A.J. still had a magical effect on her. Rising on her toes, she placed a seductive kiss on his mouth. From a nearby booth a round of applause and whistles went up.

  "Hey, no public displays of you-know-what!" called out Winston Egbert, the junior class-clown.

  "Yeah," joined in Tom McKay. "You might start a riot."

  Jessica and A.J. smiled innocently and went to stand in line for sodas. They brought them back to the crowded booth where their friends were sitting and squeezed in beside them. There was a brief, chaotic reshuffling. Lila Fowler and Cara Walker, Jessica's two best friends, were across the booth from her. Wedged into the corners were Neil Freemount and Dana Larson, and Ken Matthews straddled a chair and propped his elbows on the Formica tabletop. Maria Santelli was precariously sharing a chair with Winston, her boyfriend.

  "So, is everyone coming to my party on Friday?" Dana asked the group. Dana was a tall, leggy blond, the lead singer for The Droids, the school's most popular band.

  A wide smile broke over Jessica's face. Parties were the highlight of her life. "Are you kidding? Absolutely."

  Beside her, A.J. stirred in his seat and nudged her elbow. "Jessica, remember? We're supposed to go up to my uncle's for dinner Friday."

  "But—" She felt a sting of irritation and took a long gulp of her soda to stall for time. She hated to be contradicted. And she wanted to go to Dana's party. Forcing a bright smile, she said, "We can go after dinner."

  A.J. looked concerned. He lowered his voice a notch. "But, Jessica, it's a two-hour drive. We'd have to leave too early."

  Across the table, Lila sent Jessica a questioning glance. Jessica kept smiling, but her tone was firm. "Well, how long did you plan on staying, anyway?" she asked. Arguing in front of their friends was something she didn't want to do, but she had to get things settled.

  "Well, at least till nine or ten," A.J. replied.

  "But then we wouldn't even—"

  "Oo-hoo! What's this? A little lovers' quarrel?" Winston cut in. He grinned and darted his eyes back and forth between them. The others around the table began teasing, too.