Rolling her eyes, Amy huffed, "Well, practically everyone's going out with someone."
Jessica hitched her chair closer, her blue-green eyes dancing. As she started to speak she noticed A.J. walking toward her. In a conspiratorial tone she said, "Well, when my cousin Kelly went out with Kirk Anderson—"
"Kirk the Jerk," Amy supplied. She grimaced in anticipation. "Yeah? Yeah?"
"According to her, he's definitely in the major leagues."
"You mean according to him," Lila insisted.
The girls erupted into shrieks of laughter as A.J. pulled out a chair next to Jessica.
"Hi. What's so funny?" he asked, smiling.
Jessica caught her breath. "We were just trying to figure out—"
"Officially," Lila said, giggling.
Amy waved her hand. "Officially off the record."
Jessica silenced her friends with a firm look. "We were trying to figure out who's really the best kisser at Sweet Valley High."
A.J. looked at her blankly, and his smile faded. "Oh."
Instantly Jessica regretted having told him. From the first, A.J. had let her know that he didn't like really flirtatious, boy-crazy girls. Originally he'd had the impression that Jessica was the quiet, shy type and that was why he had been attracted to her. Since then he had gotten used to her outgoing behavior, but still . . .
"It's not like you're the first guy I ever dated," Jessica reminded him. A.J. didn't say anything, and Jessica began to wish she had kept quiet. She scooted her chair close and gave him a seductive look. "Actually," she began again, trying to mollify him, "I think you're the best kisser at school."
A.J. flushed scarlet. "Thanks for the recommendation," he said in a tight, sarcastic voice. He abruptly pushed his chair back and stood up. "Listen, I have to go. I'll see you later."
An awkward silence fell as A.J. stalked away. Jessica let out a sigh of frustration.
"What's with him?" Lila drawled, breaking the tension.
Jessica replied in a petulant tone, "I don't know. He gets embarrassed over the dumbest things sometimes. You'd think he'd be flattered."
"He didn't look very flattered to me," Amy observed. She eyed Jessica curiously. "You two having trouble?"
"No!" Jessica snapped. She restrained another angry retort and picked up her soda. "No trouble at all."
After school on Tuesday, John met Jennifer in the parking lot. At lunch he had hesitantly invited her up to Secca Lake, and to his amazement she agreed. He still couldn't get over the way she was leaning on him, looking to him for support and friendship.
And maybe more, he added with a silent prayer. John knew he was head over heels in love with her. It was scary, but exciting at the same time.
Smiling shyly, he opened the car door for her and helped her get in. He felt very protective of her. In minutes they were headed up to the big park. As he drove, John kept stealing glances at Jennifer. He almost couldn't believe she was really there with him. It was too good to be true. More and more now, Jennifer actually came looking for him—to talk or just to spend some quiet moments alone together. She had said she felt comfortable and secure with him.
And the other thing he was secretly pleased about was that Rick's name was coming up less and less. Jennifer talked more about her father now than about Rick. Unfortunately, though, John couldn't make up his mind which was worse: that Jennifer blamed her father for betraying her, or that Jennifer might still be in love with Rick.
"Thanks for being so nice," Jennifer said softly. They were just pulling into the parking lot at Secca Lake. Ahead, the water stretched out calm and blue. Looking at her hands, she added, "You're the nicest guy I've ever known. You really understand me." She turned to him and gave him a warm, grateful smile.
John stared at her, speechless. More than anything else he wanted to kiss her. But he was afraid of pushing things. And he also felt a terrible burden of guilt whenever she looked at him that way. Mr. Mitchell was still in the hospital with a heart problem, and Jennifer hadn't even called him once.
"Don't you think—" he began hoarsely. "I mean, are you going to go see your father?"
The familiar stubborn look came into Jennifer's eyes again. "No. Stop asking me! I don't have anything to say to him. OK, so he's in the hospital, but my going there isn't going to change anything."
John thought she was wrong. He suspected that Mr. Mitchell would have a lot more hope and strength if he wasn't worrying about Jennifer. But John didn't want to aggravate her any further.
"Let's just not talk about him, please?" Jennifer asked. Wearily she leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. "Someone who would do what he did to me—I just can't talk to him. Don't ask me to."
His throat tight, John nodded and looked away. He was in the worst mess he had ever been in in his life. Because of what he'd done, the girl he loved was starting to feel a whole new way about him. But if she ever found out what he'd done, she would hate him even more than she hated her father now.
When Elizabeth got home from school on Wednesday, she grabbed her recorder and a book of baroque flute solos and headed for the backyard. Prince Albert, the Wakefields' Labrador retriever, settled down beside her on the patio.
"You're not going to get a lot of sleep, Albert," Elizabeth said, chuckling. "I haven't practiced in a long time."
The dog thumped his tail.
Smiling, Elizabeth opened up her music and adjusted her recorder for tone. Then she ran through the first few measures of a piece she particularly liked. After a second or two of melody, she produced a shrill sqeeeeep!
"Yikes." Elizabeth made a sour face and frowned at her recorder. She had taken up playing it recently, and she really enjoyed it. Unfortunately, she hadn't quite perfected her technique.
Next to her, Prince Albert gave her a doubtful glance, then heaved himself up and padded slowly to the other side of the patio. Elizabeth laughed and turned back to her music. "I don't blame you, boy."
"Hello? Anyone home?" Elizabeth heard A.J. calling from around the side of the house.
She looked up in surprise. "I'm out on the patio," she called back.
In moments A.J. appeared. "Isn't Jessica home?" he asked.
"No," Elizabeth said. "Was she supposed to be?"
A.J. shrugged. "Well, I said I'd pick her up at three."
"She'll probably be home any second," said Elizabeth. "You know how she is."
"Yeah." A.J.'s voice was thoughtful. Suddenly he turned and looked at her very intently. "Liz, can I ask you something?"
She raised her eyebrows a fraction. "Sure. Is something wrong?"
"I don't know. That's what—that's what I wanted to ask you," he stammered. Coloring slightly, he continued. "Do you think Jess is getting bored with me?"
For a moment Elizabeth just stared at him. Her twin was crazy about A.J. and had been ever since meeting him. But apparently something wasn't completely right between them. "I—I don't think so," she faltered. "No. She doesn't think you're at all boring."
A.J. nudged a fallen leaf with one toe. "I just thought—Never mind."
Just then a car door slammed out front. As they waited in silence, Elizabeth and A.J. heard pounding footsteps race through the house and up the stairs. Then all was quiet again. Elizabeth and A.J. exchanged a meaningful look.
"Jessica!" Elizabeth called out.
An upstairs window was flung open abruptly, and Jessica stuck her head out. "A.J.! Hi! You're here already! I'll be down in half a second." Then she disappeared just as suddenly.
Elizabeth turned to A.J. with a mixture of relief and exasperation. "See? I told you. She's just late, as usual."
"I guess you're right," he answered, grinning sheepishly. "Listen, you won't . . ." His voice trailed off.
Shaking her head, Elizabeth said, "I won't tell her what you asked, don't worry. See you later."
Waving, A.J. stood up and strolled into the house. A few moments later Elizabeth heard a series of distinctive noises: J
essica's feet thumping down the stairs, Jessica's muffled laugh, the front door slamming, and A.J.'s car pulling into the street.
Deep in thought, Elizabeth sat back and stared moodily at her sheet music. More and more it seemed obvious that Jessica and A.J. weren't the perfect match she had thought they were for a while, although she could feel there was an undeniable attraction between them. But lately it seemed to her that A.J. was more committed to the relationship than Jessica.
I just hope I'm wrong, she mused. Then she shrugged philosophically. There wasn't any sense brooding about something she had no control over. She raised her recorder to her mouth again and drew a deep breath.
Just then the telephone rang.
"Arrgh! I'm never going to learn this stupid piece," she growled, getting up out of her chair. She slid open the patio door and ran to the kitchen to pick up the phone.
"Hi, Liz? It's John. John Pfeifer."
"Hi, John. What's up?" Elizabeth leaned against the refrigerator.
"Well, I really need to talk to you about—about, you know. Jennifer and everything."
Elizabeth held back a sigh. "What's wrong?"
There was a pause. "Do you think you could meet me at school?" he asked. His voice sounded strained and worried. "I'm here now."
"Sure," Elizabeth replied.
So much for recorder practice, she told herself. But John was obviously very upset, and since they were both responsible for what had occurred, Elizabeth felt that she should go and meet him. "I'll come over now."
He sighed audibly. "Great. I'll be out at the playing fields."
Elizabeth checked her watch. "OK. I'll be there in about fifteen minutes."
"Good. And thanks, Liz."
When Elizabeth hung up the phone, she stood staring at it, wondering. She had thought everything was settled with John. After all, she had seen him and Jennifer together every day at school.
"There's something I don't understand, I guess," she said out loud. Shrugging, she picked up her car keys and walked out the front door.
Nine
Elizabeth hurried out toward the playing fields when she arrived at school. From a distance she could make out a solitary figure sitting high up in the bleachers. She lifted her hand in a wave as she reached the bottom step and started climbing.
"Hi, John."
"Liz, I can't believe this is happening," John began before she even sat down. His face was drawn and tense, his eyes wide with anxiety. He looked extremely upset.
Elizabeth took a seat quickly. "What? What's wrong?"
"It's Mr. Mitchell."
She nodded, looking serious and expectant.
"He's scheduled for heart bypass surgery tomorrow! Jennifer told me today at lunch!" John blurted out. He turned away, and his jaw muscles worked convulsively.
At first Elizabeth didn't know what to say. Of course she felt sympathetic, but she didn't understand why it was so urgent that John tell her. Trying not to sound too confused, she said, "That's too bad. But I don't see why—"
"Why I dragged you out here?" John finished for her. He rubbed both hands across his face and closed his eyes for a moment.
"John, what is it?" Elizabeth pressed. His expression was beginning to worry her. He looked both angry and ashamed. "What?"
John drew a shuddering breath. When he spoke, his voice was barely audible. "Jennifer thinks her father was the one who got Rick Andover arrested. She hasn't even spoken to him since that night, and she won't go to see him in the hospital."
Speechless, Elizabeth stared at him. Finally she managed to gasp, "Why? Didn't you ever tell her?"
"No," John groaned. He buried his face in his hands. A few moments later he looked up and met her shocked stare evenly. "I meant to, honest. And then she started really leaning on me, wanting to talk everything over—" He broke off and swallowed with difficulty.
Elizabeth nodded slowly. She could imagine Jennifer turning to John, looking for comfort. And she could imagine how John had responded. It must have made him ecstatic.
"But then she started talking about how she figured out her father had listened in on the phone when she was talking with Rick and how he'd betrayed her," John went on. "She was talking about how much she hated him for what he did. I couldn't tell her it was really me!"
"Because then she'd hate you instead." Elizabeth looked out across the soccer field. In spite of the blazing sun, she felt a shiver go through her.
"You got it," he agreed in a bitter tone.
Elizabeth turned to him and looked searchingly into his eyes. "But, John, you have to tell her."
He returned her look silently.
"John!"
"I know. I know I do." Gritting his teeth, he added, "I can't let her hate him for something I did. Don't you think I know that?"
"Especially now that he's in the hospital," Elizabeth pointed out. She felt sad as she thought of Mr. Mitchell, sick and in pain, thinking that his daughter hated him.
And then she had a sobering thought: She was as responsible as John for turning Rick Andover in. The only reason she hadn't said anything to Jennifer was because she had assumed John had straightened everything out. But now Elizabeth knew it would be as much her fault as John's if Jennifer went on accusing Mr. Mitchell wrongly.
"John, you have to tell her, or else I will," Elizabeth said in a hollow voice. "If anything happens to Mr. Mitchell during surgery—"
"It won't." John spoke harshly, his jaw set. Looking away, he insisted, "Nothing will happen."
"But what if it does?" Elizabeth grabbed his wrist and shook it. "John, what if he dies?"
John didn't say anything, but he seemed to be struggling for words. Finally he said, "If I tell her, she'll never speak to me again—especially now, since I kept it from her for so long."
Elizabeth's thoughts were in a whirl. John's news had taken her completely by surprise, but now, all of a sudden, she had a momentous decision to make. She knew that if Mr. Mitchell died thinking Jennifer hated him, she could never live with herself. Not when it was within her power to set the record straight.
She cast an anguished look at her friend. Deep down, she knew he was a decent, caring person. And she knew he would ultimately do the right thing. It was a question of timing, though. Even with good intentions, John might just keep putting off telling Jennifer, waiting for the right moment. Obviously he was afraid of jeopardizing the relationship he had wanted for so long. Now that it was in his grasp, he couldn't risk throwing it away.
But at the same time, she knew Jennifer had to be told, no matter what the consequences were. It was terribly wrong to keep the truth from her.
"I think you should tell her right now," Elizabeth said.
John turned to her, a bleak expression in his eyes. There was a long, expectant pause. Then he nodded. "I know," he said hoarsely. "I will."
Elizabeth let out a sigh of relief. "Do you have your car here? I can drive you over to her house," she added when he shook his head. She stood up and held out her hand. "Come on. Let's go right now."
He stared at her hand for a moment as though he weren't really seeing it. Then he looked up and gave her a painful, twisted smile. "OK. We might as well get it over with. Let's go."
John sat in silence all the way to the Mitchells' house. A strange feeling of unreality gripped him as they got closer and closer. I can't believe I'm really going through with this, he thought. I can't believe I have to do this.
There was a tight lump in his throat that he tried hard to swallow. He cast a brief look of distress at Elizabeth when they pulled up in front of the familiar house. There was no way to avoid it, he knew. As he shouldered open his door, Elizabeth said, "I'll wait for you."
All the way up the path he kept his eyes firmly locked on the front door. He was afraid he would suddenly lose all courage at the last moment. But he knew in his heart he had to tell Jennifer the truth. If he didn't, there was no way they could have a relationship. He would always know he was deceiving her.
<
br /> So either way I lose. At least this way I'm being completely honest with her.
His heart pounding, John knocked on the door. He waited for what seemed like an hour before he heard footsteps in the hallway beyond.
"John! Hi." Jennifer greeted him with a puzzled smile. She had a can of soda in her hand. "What's up?"
"I have to talk to you," he said. He licked his lips and dug his hands into his pockets. Looking over her shoulder, he added, "Are you alone?"
She rolled her eyes. "Mom's at the hospital, as usual. Yeah, I'm alone."
Without trying to explain, he pushed past her and stalked into the living room. It was a familiar, comfortable room. He had been there dozens of times throughout his childhood. And he knew he might never be invited back after what he was about to say.
Jennifer followed him in and hitched herself up on the arm of a wing chair. "John? What's wrong? You look so pale."
"Listen. I have to tell you something." He whirled around to face her. "I'm the one who turned Rick in that night."
Jennifer stared at him blankly. "What? What are you talking about?"
"That night when Rick was arrested," he went on angrily. He could see it wasn't sinking in. Jennifer was so convinced her father had betrayed her that she couldn't comprehend what he was saying. She was just gaping at him in total confusion.
He scowled at her, furious with himself, with everything. "I was following him, and I saw him break into the music store. I called Luke Lander, and Luke Lander called the police. Your dad didn't have anything to do with it!"
As he watched, the color drained from Jennifer's face. Instantly she stood up and took a step backward, and a look of loathing came into her eyes. "You—you? You were spying on Rick?"
"Well, yeah! I didn't trust him, and it turns out I was right," John exploded.
Everything was going wrong. Instead of being sorry, he was acting as though he were mad at her. And in a way he was mad at her—for being so blind about Rick Andover when everyone else could see what a rat he was.
John sank onto the couch. "Look, I'm sorry," he said wearily, staring down at the floor. He couldn't look at Jennifer. "I know it was a lousy thing to do to you, but I didn't want to see you hurt for what he did. And I don't want you to blame your father for it."
White Lies (Sweet Valley High Book 52) Page 6