Cara glanced toward the house, where Steven had disappeared. She sighed. “Well, I’ve got to be going. See you at the tryouts.” She gathered up her books.
“OK,” said Jessica. “And don’t worry. It’s in the bag.”
As Cara disappeared around the side of the house, Jessica hurried inside. She knew that look on her brother’s face spelled trouble. She found him in the kitchen, reaching for the telephone.
“What happened?” she inquired.
Steven looked grim. “An accident.”
Jessica’s heart leaped into her mouth. “What? What kind of accident?”
“Tricia’s father,” Steven said. “He hit a woman on Palmetto Drive.”
“Oh, no!” Jessica cried.
“I’ve got to call Tricia,” Steven said. “She must be really upset.”
“Is the woman hurt badly?”
Steven shook his head. “I don’t think so, but I don’t know for sure. I found out about the accident from a friend of Tricia’s. I do know that Mr. Martin’s in jail for a few days.”
“Jail?” Jessica gasped, horrified.
“He was busted for drunk driving again.”
Jessica sank down onto a chair, furious that the Wakefields were in any way associated with the revolting Martin family.
“Oh, Steve,” she said, “I told you the Martins were all rotten. For Pete’s sake, why don’t you let me fix you up with Cara? She’s terrific!”
“Knock it off, Jess,” Steven said. “Tricia needs me. I’ve got to get over there.” He anxiously began dialing the phone.
Jessica stomped out of the kitchen, feeling only helplessness at her brother’s infatuation with Tricia. She couldn’t get over the feeling that one day her brother would come to grief because of his love for that girl.
* * *
The gym at Sweet Valley High looked like backstage at a Broadway musical casting call as the seventy-five hopefuls showed up for cheerleader tryouts the next afternoon. It was sheer bedlam, girls everywhere dashing around trying cartwheels and cheers, squealing as they greeted each other.
“Wow!” Robin Wilson was wide-eyed. “How are we going to handle this mob?”
“Can you belive it,” said Helen Bradley, the bubbly redhead. “You’d think we were giving away Mr. America.”
Jessica climbed onto a bench, stuck her whistle in her mouth, and issued a screeching blast. “Attention, everybody,” she yelled.
It took a couple more whistle blasts, but finally the crowd quieted down and focused their attention on Jessica.
“I’m Jessica Wakefield, in case anybody doesn’t know, and this is Robin Wilson. We’re co-captains. This is Helen Bradley and Jean West and Maria Santelli.”
The cheerleaders got a nice round of applause, which pleased Jessica. She was happy to see a good turnout of students up in the stands, too, including Helen Bradley’s good-looking brother, Tim.
Elizabeth was also there, taking notes for an Oracle story. With her was Enid Rollins.
“I know why you’re here.” Enid fixed her lovely green eyes on Elizabeth. “To write a story. But why am I here? I know you didn’t drag me along to hear who I think does the best splits.”
“Quiet, slave,” Elizabeth teased. “You’re here because I need somebody who can talk about something other than cheerleading.”
Back on the floor, Jessica continued her introductions. “Now, girls,” she said, “I want you to meet the person we all depend upon, the brains of the organization, the heart and the soul of the squad, and please don’t rip his clothes off.”
The other cheerleaders were all giggling, knowing what was coming.
“Here he is,” said Jessica. “Our manager—Ricky Capaldo.”
Ricky Capaldo, his face red as a fire engine, came trotting out from under the stands, giving Jessica a murderous look. Ricky was small and dark and shy, and not what anyone would call handsome. But those who looked closely were sure to notice his warm brown eyes. He put up with a lot of teasing, but all of it was friendly. Even Jessica was fond of him. Ricky carried a clipboard with several sheets of paper on it, a list of all the names of the girls trying out. In a few minutes, he got the girls separated into five groups spread out across the gym.
Jessica’s silver whistle blasted again.
“OK, everybody, today’s tryout is to pick twenty-five semifinalists. We can already see that it’s going to be tough—after all, Sweet Valley High has the most talented and beautiful girls in California.”
That got a loud cheer.
“Good luck!” Jessica shouted.
Ricky Capaldo moved swiftly up and down the gym, handing out scoring sheets to Jessica, Robin, Helen, Jean, and Maria. The five members of the squad stood in front of the five groups, showing them the routines and calling out the cheers.
Jessica was in front of the group that included the last part of the alphabet. She saw Cara Walker and winked. Then another face came into her vision, a smiling, eager, beautiful face. Annie Whitman. Jessica turned away. She really had the nerve to show up!
Each girl came forward as her name was called and did the basic Gladiator cheer, the side kicks, the Y-leap, and the final flourish, yelling: “We who are about to win, salute you! Go, Gladiators!”
It didn’t take long for the members of the squad to see that the seventy-five aspirants could easily be reduced to about forty. There were the freshmen, who almost never got on the squad, and knew they were practicing for their sophomore year. Then there were the ones who couldn’t get off the ground, or tripped and went sprawling, or got stage fright and ran out of the gym.
Cara Walker sailed through the first cheer as if she’d never left the team. Jessica was congratulating herself on coaching her friend when Annie Whitman stepped forward and began her routine.
All that was required for the first routine was a simple cheer, but Annie performed with a grace that made the cheer extra special. She added flourishes and fancy moves that some of the girls on the squad had been working on for months.
“Go, Gladiators!” Annie yelled, leaping through every motion with precision and ease. It was apparent to everyone watching, except perhaps Jessica, that Annie was quite simply the most talented new girl there, and one of the prettiest as well. She finished off by dashing across the floor into two cartwheels and sailing high into a final, breathtaking back flip that made even Maria Santelli proud.
Applause exploded in the gym. Annie, her face flushed with excitement and happiness, returned to her place among the hopefuls, who heaped congratulations upon her. Jessica’s face was possibly the only one in the gym that wasn’t happy.
The glow of Annie’s triumph was still floating in the air when Sandra Bacon jogged to the center of the gym with her group and stepped out to take her turn. Jessica watched her hopefully and was pleased to see Sandy move quite satisfactorily through the cheer.
Ricky Capaldo circulated among the five cheerleaders, collecting the sheets with their choices for the twenty-five semifinalists. Passing Annie, he gave her a broad and encouraging smile.
“Great going, Miss Flashdance,” he joked.
Annie blushed prettily.
Ricky made his way through the crowd of eager girls, seated himself on a bench, and began tallying the votes. Cara Walker was in, as was Sandra Bacon, and, of course, Annie Whitman.
“Hey, Jess,” said Ricky, “you forgot to put Annie’s name on your sheet.”
“Who?” said Jessica.
“Annie Whitman. Everybody put her name down. You must have forgotten.”
“I didn’t forget, Ricky,” said Jessica.
Just then, Annie came running up to them, glowing and happy.
“Is that all for today?” she said. “Because I have a date.”
I’ll bet you have, Jessica thought angrily.
“Yep, that’s it,” Ricky said warmly. “The list will be posted tomorrow.”
Annie flashed a smile at Jessica, then hurried back toward the stands.
Jessica watched her in annoyance. She saw Annie move up the steps to join handsome Tim Bradley.
“But he’s a senior, and she’s only a sophomore,” Jessica muttered. She was mildly interested in Tim herself and had thought he was there to watch her and maybe to buy her a Coke afterward. But there he was, leaving with Easy Annie!
She turned to see Helen sitting beside her, checking the selections.
“You’d better keep an eye on your brother, Helen,” Jessica hissed.
“What?” Helen said, looking toward the stands. Tim and Annie were standing close together.
“Do you see who he’s with?”
“Annie Whitman?”
“Don’t you care if your brother runs around with the school tramp?” Jessica snapped.
Helen Bradley frowned unhappily as she watched Tim and Annie leaving the gym together. “I have heard the rumors,” she said.
“They aren’t rumors,” Jessica said, and to herself she made a vow: Easy Annie will never be on the cheerleading squad, and that’s final!
* * *
While Jessica watched Tim and Annie, someone had her eye on Jessica. And that someone had a pretty good idea of what was going through Jessica’s head. She’s really got it in for Annie, Elizabeth thought. And I can’t think of a single way to change her mind.
“I want you to know it’s been really fantastic talking with you, Liz,” Enid joked lightly.
Elizabeth continued staring at Jessica in silence.
“I mean, I’m so glad you brought me along to keep you company.”
Still there was no response from Elizabeth.
“Hey! Earth to Wakefield. Come in, Wakefield.” Enid practically shouted, giving Elizabeth a gentle poke in the ribs. “Liz, what is the matter? Watching tryouts is supposed to be fun.”
“Everything’s fine, Enid.” Elizabeth forced a small smile. “I mean, I am having fun. Especially watching Annie Whitman. She’s terrific, isn’t she?”
“Yeah, terrific, Liz, so why that very unterrific look on your face?”
“What look?” Elizabeth asked a little too sharply.
“Like you just saw something black and creepy crawl across the floor or maybe overheard a plot to destroy the world—that look.”
Elizabeth giggled. “You’re a nut, Enid Rollins.”
“That’s me all right, old Zany Rollins,” Enid said dryly. “Seriously, Liz, you look upset. And you were watching Jessica, not Annie. What’s your sister up to this time?”
Enid was all too familiar with Jessica’s schemes, having been the target of one of them not too long ago. She wouldn’t trust Jessica Wakefield as far as she could throw a truck.
“Oh, you know Jess—always up to something,” Elizabeth joked. But inside she was worried. Once Jessica had made up her mind, there was nothing anyone could do to change it.
Four
Ricky Capaldo had never in his life felt so popular and so disliked at one instant. Word spread almost before he had the first thumbtack into the bulletin board in front of the girls’ gym. He was immediately engulfed by half the females at Sweet Valley High, pushing and yelling as they fought to see which names were on the list. To those hopefuls who had been cut, Ricky became the object of intense outrage. But the twenty-five who made it were bouncing with joy, several of them hugging and kissing the shy, blushing squad manager.
“Hey, I don’t even get to vote,” Ricky protested, to no avail.
Elizabeth was making her way down the corridor in time to see Ricky surrounded by the happy girls. Annie Whitman’s arms were around his neck, and she gave him a kiss.
“I think I’ll post a list every day,” Ricky said, laughing.
Turning around, Annie spotted Elizabeth and immediately ran over to give her a hug, too.
“Liz, I made it,” Annie squealed. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
Elizabeth laughed happily. “Yes, it sure is.”
“I’ve still got to make the other cuts, though,” said Annie, falling in step with Elizabeth. “Do you think you could possibly help me again? We’ve got a monster test coming up.”
“Sure,” Elizabeth answered. “Just say when.”
“Well, let’s see,” Annie said, apparently doing a mental run-through of her busy schedule. “Tonight—no, I have a date tonight.”
“Don’t forget that I’m the ‘Eyes and Ears’ of Sweet Valley High,” Elizabeth said. “Can I write that you and Tim Bradley are an item?”
“Tim Bradley?” Annie said casually. “Oh, I saw him once, but I’m not really interested.”
Elizabeth marveled at the swiftness of Annie Whitman’s romances. She had thought Tim was the very latest of Annie’s boyfriends.
“Who then?” Elizabeth asked teasingly. “Ricky?”
Annie turned an astonished face upon Elizabeth. “Ricky Capaldo?” she said, wide-eyed.
“Well, the way you kissed him back there…”
Annie giggled. “I was just carried away! I never thought of Ricky as a boyfriend, you know? He always seems like—I don’t know, just a pal.”
Elizabeth nodded slowly. Most of the girls liked Ricky a lot, but as sort of a buddy.
“Well, then, who’s the lucky guy?” Elizabeth was almost afraid to find out.
Annie smiled mysteriously. “Promise not to tell?”
“Remember, I’m a reporter,” Elizabeth teased again.
Annie blushed. “OK, but don’t let anybody know where you got this. I’ve got a date with Billy and Rick.”
“Huh?”
Annie laughed and her eyes danced. “Billy’s taking me to the Dairi Burger, and then later on Rick Andover is taking me to the beach for a late swim.”
Elizabeth studied Annie in amazement. Here was a girl fighting to keep her grades up so she could make the cheering squad, but she had two dates. She already had a bad reputation but was perfectly willing to have an item in The Oracle about her going out with two guys, one of them a dropout with a really bad name around town.
“Annie,” said Elizabeth, “you’re a wonder.”
Annie smiled, taking it as a compliment. “Boys I can handle. It’s math that’s a pain in the neck.”
Annie waved and walked off down the corridor. “We’ll set something up later, OK?”
“Fine,” Elizabeth called after her.
Elizabeth didn’t print the item about Annie’s “double-date.” Instead, she put in the names of the girls who had made the first cut on the cheering squad and mentioned that Annie Whitman, Cara Walker, and Sandy Bacon looked like the favorites.
The story in The Oracle had seemed to Elizabeth a fairly ordinary item, until she was pounced upon a few days later by a furious Jessica.
“Elizabeth Wakefield,” Jessica declared as they were getting ready for school, “aren’t there any rules in journalism about printing the truth?”
“Pardon me?” Elizabeth said, tuning in to her twin sister’s building anger.
“What do you mean by saying that Easy Annie is one of the favorites to make the cheerleading squad?”
“Jess, everybody thought she was terrific.”
“Not everybody! Not some of the more important members of the squad.”
“OK. So you don’t like her. Did you hear the applause she got?”
“Sure,” said Jessica. “All her boyfriends. That’s about two hundred right there. And I’m not the only one. Helen Bradley is on to her now, too.”
“Uh-oh,” said Elizabeth. “Did Tim Bradley tell her something?”
“Only everything. That Easy Annie lived up to her nickname all the way, that’s all.” Jessica rummaged through her twin’s closet until she found the blouse she was looking for.
“I’m sorry, Jess,” Elizabeth said. “But I report what I see, and Annie was the most popular girl to try out. Those are facts.”
“Yes, and she’ll never make the squad. That’s another fact,” Jessica snapped.
“How do you know that?”
“Because I know.”
* * *
Elizabeth was on the front lawn one afternoon when Annie dashed up to her, hugged her, and said, “I got an A on the math test! I think I’ll nominate you for Woman of the Year!”
Despite her many dates, Annie seemed to have gotten the hang of math. Elizabeth had gone to Annie’s apartment two more times to coach her, each time hiding her visit from Jessica.
She thought back to the last session and sighed out loud. She and Annie had just taken out their books when the doorbell rang. Annie got up to open the door, and Elizabeth could see a tiny gray-haired woman standing in the hallway.
“Annie, dear,” the old lady said timidly, “I’m afraid I’ve misplaced my glasses, again.”
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Jorgenson.” Annie put her arm around the woman’s shoulder and gave her a gentle squeeze. “I always find them for you, don’t I?” Annie turned back to Elizabeth. “I shouldn’t be more than a few minutes. Would you mind waiting?” she asked apologetically.
Elizabeth smiled. “Go ahead. Of course I’ll wait. I’ve got some work of my own to look at while you’re on the great hunt.”
A minute after Annie dashed out to Mrs. Jorgenson’s rescue, Elizabeth heard a key turn in the lock. Oh, no, she thought. Just what I need, a chat with Mrs. Whitman and call-me-Johnny. She had managed to avoid being alone with them since the first tutoring session. They both made her nervous.
“Hi, kitten, I’m home!” Mrs. Whitman called out as she whirled into the room. Seeing Elizabeth sitting on the white sofa, Mrs. Whitman flashed her a brilliant smile. “Hi, um…” A frown crossed her face. “Now don’t tell me. I know you. You’re—ah, you’re—”
“Elizabeth Wakefield, Mrs. Whitman.” Thank goodness Johnny wasn’t with her, Elizabeth thought.
There was another brilliant smile. “Of course. Annie’s pretty friend with the pretty name.”
Wrong Kind of Girl Page 3