“You were really terrific at all the tryouts,” Ricky agreed.
“So who was chosen?” Annie finally dared to ask. She drew away from Ricky, her head bent in defeat.
“Cara,” said Ricky. “And Sandra,” he added, his voice barely a whisper.
“Well, Cara was good,” Annie admitted, fair to the other girl even in her misery. “And she’s already been part of the team. But Sandy—Sandy fell!”
Annie’s voice rose at the injustice, and she pounded the wall at the top of the bleachers with her fist. Ricky sat beside her, worrying about her.
“Ricky,” she said, lifting her face toward him, “who voted against me?”
“Well, let’s see,” Ricky said, stalling. “Robin Wilson thought you were great! And so did Maria Santelli.”
“Yes,” Annie said thoughtfully. “I sort of thought they were for me. Robin even applauded!” Annie’s face lit up with happiness at the memory. But then hurt and misery slid back across her lovely features.
“So that means Jeanie, Helen, and Jessica voted against me.” Annie shook her head in bewilderment. She could understand Jeanie West’s vote, because after all she was Sandra’s best friend. And perhaps Tim Bradley had said something to his sister Helen after Annie’s less than terrific date with him. But what about Jessica Wakefield?
“I really thought Jessica wanted me on the squad,” Annie said. “She knew I could do all the routines.” She frowned and looked closely at Ricky. “Did Jessica really vote against me?”
“She voted for Sandra, that’s all.” Ricky looked away, turning the color of a Mexican red pepper.
Annie rose to her feet. Slowly she began dragging herself down the long stairs from the top of the stadium toward the playing field.
“I could accept it, I guess, if I just could understand,” she said, pausing after two steps. She turned to face Ricky again. “Did anybody say anything?”
Ricky looked at his feet. “Aw, what’s the difference?” he answered evasively.
Annie walked down two more steps and settled down on one of the long wooden bleachers.
“Sure, somebody said something,” Annie stated. “I couldn’t have been totally out of the running.” A tiny note of pride crept its way to the surface. “Why, there must have been a regular discussion! What was the vote against me—three to two?”
Ricky got up and took her hand. “Come on. Let’s go to the Dairi Burger.”
“No,” Annie said, pulling back. “I have to know what happened or I’ll go crazy! You said Robin and Maria spoke for me.”
“Sure! And so did Helen Bradley.”
“What?”
“Sure! She said that when Sandra tripped, you should have been picked.” Ricky was sorry as soon as the words were out of his mouth. His confession could only bring Annie more pain.
“But that would be three votes! You mean Helen changed her mind?”
“Annie, you don’t want to keep going over this,” Ricky protested. “It’s not going to do any good. Why don’t you forget it?”
“Ricky, if there were three girls for me, who talked them out of it?”
“Well…”
“Who?”
“Jessica.”
Annie was back on her feet. She couldn’t sit still. “Jessica knifed me? But why?” Her astonishment was as clear as day.
Ricky took Annie’s hand as they ran down the steps, all the way to the bottom, and then out across the track and onto the field.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go get a soda and forget about it.” Ricky’s shyness was gone. All he could think about was easing Annie’s grief.
But Annie was inconsolable. “This is where I’d be in football season,” she lamented, looking around the field. “Right here! Watch this!”
And off she went, dashing along in front of the empty team bench and the huge, silent stands, swinging into one cartwheel and then another. From the cartwheels she sailed gracefully into a back flip and finished off with a split, a dazzling exhibition of grace and skill.
Ricky ran to her where she was crumpled on the grass. She was laughing as he ran up.
“That was great,” he said, sinking down beside her, taking her in his arms.
Then he realized she was not laughing. She was crying.
“Ricky, if you care for me, you have to tell me what happened.”
“I can’t.”
“You have to. If I did something wrong, I can make it right the next time. I have to know. Tell me the truth.”
He did owe her the truth, Ricky decided. He’d given her half the story already, and it was probably worse for her to wonder about the rest of it than to actually know what had happened.
“Well,” Ricky began hesitantly, “you see…”
“Yes? Come on, Ricky.”
“Annie, you have to realize that some people just say anything about other people. Somebody told Jessica things, and I guess she believed them.”
Annie’s face began to color, flushing a deep red. Her voice became faint. “What do you mean?”
“Darn it, Annie, Jessica brought up the stories that some guys tell about you.”
“Oh, no,” Annie said, moving away from him.
“Jessica said everybody in the school knew about those stories, and that—well, that if you were a cheerleader, it would ruin the whole squad.”
Annie cried out and lurched backward, tears spurting from her eyes. She shook her head frantically from side to side as though trying to shake off the words.
“No, no,” she shrieked. “No! Ruin the whole squad?”
She scrambled to her feet, and once more she was running. She was blinded by her tears, but she did not slow down.
“Annie,” Ricky called out, but she did not stop.
Ricky ran after her across most of the stadium field, then slowed to a stop.
Annie’s figure grew smaller and smaller. And then she was gone.
Ten
Ricky called himself every name in the book. Why had he told Annie the harsh truth? Because she wanted to know, he told himself. But did she really?
Ricky hurried from the stadium back toward school, his face set in a worried mask, his thoughts swirling out of control. Surely, he told himself, Annie must have known what the kids were saying!
But it was clear she had not known. Annie’s anguished face appeared before him over and over again, and the words echoed in his head: “Ruin the whole squad?”
Why didn’t I keep my mouth shut? Ricky raged at himself.
No one at Sweet Valley High saw Annie Whitman the rest of that day. Ricky went from class to class like a sleepwalker, hardly knowing where he was. After school the cheerleaders welcomed their two new members in the gym. Ricky had to hand out outfits to Sandra Bacon and Cara Walker, along with a schedule of practices, games, and other planned appearances. He knew it wasn’t fair, but he could barely stand to look at their smiling faces. It wasn’t their fault, he reminded himself, but that didn’t help.
Finally, out of sheer frustration, he approached Jessica. She was the only person who had the power to make things right for Annie. Or was it already too late? His feet felt like lead weights, and his heart was thumping wildly, but he had to do it. He had to talk to Jessica for Annie’s sake.
“Jess, have you got a couple of minutes?”
“Sure, Ricky. What’s up? A problem with the new schedules?” Jessica flashed him a smile.
Maybe she would listen to him, he thought hopefully. “It’s about Annie Whitman—” he began.
Jessica was no longer smiling. “I don’t want to talk about that girl,” Jessica snapped. “She is not on the squad. She will never be on the squad. That’s final, Ricky.”
“But Jessica, you don’t understand,” Ricky persisted. His pleading tone called out for her sympathy. “Annie’s taking this very hard.”
“Well, that’s just too bad,” Jessica returned coldly. “We all have to learn how to handle disappointments in life, don’t we?” With t
hat, she turned and walked away, leaving Ricky feeling more dejected than ever.
He went to the mall and bought a cheerful greeting card, writing on it, “You always make my day.” The next day he got to Spanish class early and put the card in an envelope on Annie’s desk. It lay there untouched all through the period. Annie didn’t show up.
The day after that, Annie was absent from school again. Ricky got out the entry forms the aspiring cheerleaders had filled out and found her home telephone number. But no one answered his calls.
On the third day Ricky was desperate. Coming into the cafeteria, he spotted the one person he thought might be able to help.
“Hey, Liz,” he said softly, “can I talk to you?”
“Sure,” Elizabeth answered. “What’s up?”
“Liz,” Ricky said, his voice trembling, “I’m worried about Annie.”
Elizabeth nodded in sympathy. “Yeah, I can understand that.”
“She hasn’t been to school in three days!”
“Oh, no,” said Elizabeth. “Is she ill?”
Ricky hid his face and spoke hesitantly. “Yeah, she’s ill, all right. Ill from dumbness and stupidity.”
The cruel words surprised Elizabeth. “I thought you liked Annie, Ricky.”
“Oh, Liz, I do! Of course I do. The stupidity I’m talking about is mine!”
“Yours? What happened?”
Ricky shook his head in agony, unable at first to make the words come out. Finally he forced himself to speak. “I did about the dumbest thing possible, Liz. I told her why she was kept off the cheerleading squad.”
Elizabeth sat quietly as Ricky continued.
“I gave it to her with both barrels. Don’t ask me why! She kept questioning me about why Jessica had ruined her. Finally I told her.”
Elizabeth sighed. “Poor Annie. What did she say?”
“She just ran away, Liz.”
“She was never aware of the things people said about her,” Elizabeth said, voicing Ricky’s own suspicions.
“I figured that out,” he said, his eyes watery as he looked at Elizabeth. “But too late. If I’d realized it from the beginning, I might not have said anything. I didn’t think it would be such a shock.”
Elizabeth put her hand over Ricky’s. “You did what you thought was right, Ricky.”
“Liz, you’ve got to talk to your sister.”
“To Jess?” It was more of a statement than a question.
“You’ve got to. Tell her what it means to Annie.”
Elizabeth looked at the heartbroken boy and was filled with pity. “OK, Ricky,” she said, “I’ll talk to her.”
By the time Elizabeth got a chance to talk to her twin that afternoon, the story about Annie was all over the school.
“Is it true,” Enid asked Elizabeth between classes, “that Jessica called Annie Whitman ‘Easy Annie’ to her face?”
“No, no, of course not,” Elizabeth said.
“That’s that I heard from Emily Mayer.”
“Well, Emily’s wrong.”
Jessica also heard stories. In gym class Susan Stewart whispered, “Tell me about the big fight.”
“What big fight?” Jessica asked, eager for gossip.
“Everybody says you and Annie Whitman had a big fight about her being a cheerleader, and you called her the tramp of the school.”
Jessica allowed herself a small smile. “Is that what they’re saying?” She didn’t deny a thing.
“So what happened?” Susan pressed.
“What happened,” Jessica said firmly, “is that she’s not on the cheerleading squad.”
After school Elizabeth found her sister in their pool floating on her back on a rubber raft. She put her books down and sat on the edge of the small diving board.
“Jess,” she called, “I want to talk to you.”
Jessica opened one eye, then closed it again. “I’m working on my tan, Liz. What is it?”
“Have you heard what they’re saying about you and Annie?”
“So?”
“Is any of it possibly true? Did you call her Easy Annie to her face?”
Jessica turned over onto her stomach, being careful not to slide off into the turquoise water. She glanced at her sister. “Lizzie, do you think I’m an absolute, total beast without feelings?”
“Don’t make me answer that one, Jess. Just tell me—yes or no?”
“Oh, of course I didn’t. I haven’t even seen her since the tryouts.”
“Promise?”
“Honest. Ask Robin or any of the girls.”
“Well, I’m glad that at least you didn’t make the situation any worse than it already is.”
Jessica paddled to the side of the pool and pulled herself out of the water onto an immense beach towel. “Whatever are you talking about?” she asked her sister as she began rubbing oil on her perfectly tanned legs.
“Jess, you know Annie was the best person to try out for the squad. You should have made her a cheerleader.”
“I told you from the start there was no way Easy Annie would ever be on the squad while I was a captain,” Jessica said sternly.
“But you didn’t say anything to her face?”
Jessica tossed her head. “No! But the truth is the truth, Liz.”
Elizabeth walked over to a little wrought-iron chair under the brilliant yellow beach umbrella and sat down near Jessica. “Jess, don’t you think you could reconsider?”
“What?”
“Couldn’t you let Annie on the cheering squad?”
“Elizabeth Wakefield, sometimes I think you’re from another world! I just explained that—”
“Yes, but it would mean so much to her,” Elizabeth interrupted.
“It means even more to us to keep the squad clean,” Jessica said righteously.
“Good heavens, Jess, she’s only fifteen years old! And she’s trying her best to become the kind of person everyone will respect. I’m really impressed with how much she’s changed during the last few weeks. The cheering squad would have a wonderful influence on her. Come on, Jess, show a little compassion.”
Jessica’s face grew contorted with anger. Lightning flashed from her blue-green eyes. “I am sick and tired of hearing that girl defended,” she exploded. “For the last time, Annie Whitman is a disaster!”
Jessica stood up, pulled her bath towel around her, and stalked across the patio and into the house.
* * *
On Monday afternoon Alice Wakefield and the twins were sitting in the living room talking about Suzanne Devlin again and discussing which twin would go to New York and which would stay in Sweet Valley to show Suzanne around.
“We could let you draw names out of a hat,” Mrs. Wakefield said.
“But I don’t know whether I’d rather see New York or stay around here and be with Suzanne,” Jessica moaned. “How about you, Liz?”
“Tell you what,” Elizabeth said. “You do one, and I’ll do the other.”
“What?”
“Gotcha!”
The ring of the telephone put an end to the conversation. Elizabeth moved across the room and picked up the receiver. “Hello?”
“Elizabeth?” said an extremely distraught voice.
“Yes. Is that you, Ricky?”
“Liz, I don’t know what to do!”
“What’s the matter?”
It seemed a thousand years before he replied. “Liz, it’s Annie!”
“Annie?”
Elizabeth automatically looked at her sister, and Jessica looked back as she heard the name.
Ricky was on the edge of losing control. “They’ve rushed her to the hospital,” he said.
Elizabeth gasped. “Oh, no! What’s happened?”
Ricky wasn’t trying to hold back his grief now. Between sobs, he blurted it out:
“Liz, Annie tried to kill herself!”
Eleven
Elizabeth hung up the phone in a daze. “Oh, my God.”
Jessica leaped from
the sofa and dashed to her twin’s side. “What is it, Liz?”
“Annie! Oh, Jess, she tried to kill herself.”
“What!” Jessica’s tanned face went pale with shock. “What do you mean?”
“That was Ricky Capaldo. He said Annie’s been rushed to the hospital!”
Alice Wakefield was beside her daughters by this time, listening with a worried face. “Who is it? Annie? Is she a friend of yours?”
“We know her,” Jessica said faintly. “She wanted to be a cheerleader.”
“The poor thing!” Alice Wakefield said. “How awful.”
“Jess,” Elizabeth said, “we’ve got to go to the hospital!”
“Oh, no, not me,” Jessica whispered hoarsely. “She wouldn’t want me there.”
“Well, I want you there,” Elizabeth said firmly. “Mom, can we take the Fiat?”
“Yes, of course,” the twins’ mother answered. “But be careful.”
* * *
Driving quickly through the streets of the quiet town, Elizabeth and Jessica were both lost in their own thoughts. For once, Jessica did not complain about being in the passenger seat.
“Oh, please, let it not be serious,” she murmured softly. “Oh, Liz, it just can’t be.”
“She’ll be all right, Jess. She’s got to be.”
Elizabeth slid the red Spider convertible into a space at the parking lot of Joshua Fowler Memorial Hospital. As the twins climbed out, they shivered at the sight of the enormous, ominous-looking building. With a glance at each other, they both remembered Elizabeth’s ordeal there not too long ago.
They hurried up the long walk, through the hospital doors, and along the seemingly endless corridor to the reception area.
“Hello,” said the nurse behind the desk. “What can I do for you young ladies?” It always amazed Elizabeth that nurses and doctors could seem so calm when they were surrounded with life-or-death crises.
“Annie Whitman,” Elizabeth said.
The nurse looked over her files with exasperating nonchalance, then smiled at them. “I’m sorry. We have no Annie Whitman.”
“They just brought her in,” Elizabeth protested. “She tried to—it was an emergency.”
“Oh,” the nurse said. “Well, then, she might be in the Emergency Wing. Right through there.”
Wrong Kind of Girl Page 8