Twisted

by Jo Gibson

  Kelly pressed down gingerly on the brake pedal. The brakes had a tendency to grab and pull to one side, something Tommy had promised to fix for her just as soon as he had a spare afternoon. But even though Kelly had braked, the car didn’t slow.

  She frowned and pressed down a little harder, but the car kept right on gaining speed. What was wrong? The brakes had always been a little finicky, but they’d never failed before! Kelly pulled the handle of the emergency brake, but that didn’t work either, and she felt herself beginning to panic. She had to think of some way to stop before she reached the crossing, and it was at the bottom of the hill!

  “Okay. Here goes!” Kelly gripped the wheel tightly and tromped down hard on the brakes. The car would skid, but she was prepared. But nothing happened! The car kept right on hurtling forward, even though the brake pedal was jammed all the way to the floor.

  There wasn’t time to think, only to react, and Kelly jerked the wheel to the right. The ditch wasn’t that steep and it was bound to slow the car and stop it.

  There was a horrible jolt as one wheel hit the edge of the ditch. The car tipped steeply, but it kept right on going, scraping and shuddering its way down the hill. Kelly fought the wheel, trying to steer over to the other side of the road, but it was no use. The old Dodge was riding on the lip of the ditch, heading straight down to the crossing.

  And then she heard it, the blast of the train whistle, much louder this time. The eight o’clock train was rounding the bend, hurtling down the track full speed ahead. The engineer was totally oblivious of the horrible wreck that was only a few heartbeats away.

  Someone must have seen her, because there was a metallic squeal so loud it seemed to rip the fabric of the night apart. It was the distinctive sound of metal scraping metal, and sparks began to fly beneath the train. They had engaged the brakes. They were trying to stop. But could they stop in time?

  For a moment, Kelly thought they’d make it. The train seemed to slow, but perhaps that was because her old Dodge was moving so fast. And then she was on the tracks, feeling desperately for the door handle. But there was no time. The bright light was upon her, crushing the life from her body and plunging her into the endless darkness.

  One

  Jennifer Larkin, Jen to her friends, was prepared to make an entrance. She was dressed in her best school outfit, a soft blue skirt that was tight enough to hug her slim hips, with a matching jacket-type vest. Her blouse was navy blue silk with a wide collar and she was wearing small gold earrings, and a shiny gold clasp in her hair.

  As she approached the door to room 206, Jennifer reached up to touch her hair. It had always been a problem, and there didn’t seem to be a solution. Most of Jennifer’s hair was light brown, but it had traces of blond, chestnut, and even deep red. It was almost as if fate were somehow making up for the fact that she was an only child by giving her strands of hair from every ancestor on both sides of the family.

  Hair color wasn’t the only problem. Texture was also a factor. Jennifer’s hair fell to just below the middle of her back, and it was as thick and straight as a board. It couldn’t be curled. She had tried.

  Right after last Christmas, Jennifer had spent her holiday money on an expensive haircut and perm. She’d been delighted with her new look, but it hadn’t been more than a week before all her curls were gone. Jennifer’s hair had a mind of its own. It wanted to be multicolored, thick and straight, and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it. Jennifer had settled for buying barrettes and clasps to hold it back, and given up on fancy hairstyles.

  Her eyes were her best feature. Jennifer knew that. They were as blue as a summer’s sky, fringed with long, dark lashes. And the rest of her face wasn’t bad, either. Her lips were generous, her cheekbones were high, her nose was straight and not too large, and her skin was smooth. Jennifer knew that she was a long way from beautiful, but she certainly wasn’t ugly. She looked nice, maybe even pretty, but Tommy Jackson had never so much as looked at her with interest.

  Jennifer took a deep breath, and hesitated with her hand on the door. What if someone asked her why she was so dressed up? What would she say? She couldn’t admit that she’d worn her best outfit for Tommy. What excuse could she make that would sound reasonable?

  Another question popped into Jennifer’s mind and she started to frown. What if no one said anything about how she was dressed? Wouldn’t that be even worse? It would mean that her friends didn’t care enough about her to notice what she wore.

  Jennifer sighed and tried to push the worries out of her mind. She’d always been overly worried about things. Even as a small child, Jennifer had imagined the worst that could happen in any situation. That was why her father had called her “Mousie,” and she was very grateful that none of her friends knew about the nickname. She’d done her best to get over her fears, but every once in a while, all of her doubts and worries came back to haunt her. She took a deep breath and concentrated on thinking positive thoughts. Today was the day that Tommy would notice her. He’d take one look at her and say, “Hey, Jen. You really look good today.”

  She pushed open the door and walked into the classroom, her lips curving up in the smile she’d practiced in front of her mirror. Tommy and his twin brother, Tim, were sitting in the front row.

  “Hey, Jen.” Tim grinned at her. “You really look good today.”

  Jennifer could feel herself blushing. It was the right comment, but it had come from the wrong twin. “Thanks, Tim. Hi, Tommy.”

  “Hi, Jen.” Tommy looked up and gave her a little wave. He was always polite and friendly. And then he turned around and went back to his conversation with Tim.

  Jennifer thought about interrupting. She knew Tim wouldn’t mind. But they seemed to be talking about something serious, so she walked back to her assigned seat. Her knees were shaking a bit as she sat down. Had Tommy even noticed her new outfit? Probably not. But Tim had, and it was a real pity she wasn’t in love with him. At least she’d have a chance with him.

  “Jen . . . did you write down our math assignment?” Susie Romano slid over next to her.

  “Sure, Susie . . . here.” Jennifer opened her notebook and handed it over for Susie to copy. She liked Susie, a plump, dark-haired girl who just happened to be the biggest gossip at Foothill High. Susie didn’t mean to gossip, but she worked weekends at her parents’ deli. Everyone who came in had a story to tell about someone else, and Susie was a very good listener.

  “Thanks, Jen.” Susie handed back the notebook and waved at Ronnie Hughes as he came in the door. “I have to go talk to Ronnie. Mrs. Kramer came in for sliced turkey breast last night, and she said his second cousin, Mary Ellen, was moving to New York.”

  Jennifer watched as Susie hurried over to intercept Ronnie. Susie had been trying to pick up on Ronnie for ages, but Ronnie didn’t seem to realize that she was interested. Ronnie was tall and thin, more at home on a catwalk than on the ground, and totally fascinated by stage lighting. His parents owned the Foothill Bakery, and Susie had threatened to pop out of a cake, dressed up like a light bulb, if Ronnie didn’t ask her out soon.

  “Hi, everybody!” Cheryl Maloney came into the room, wearing a tight yellow sweater. She was a transfer student from Los Angeles and she’d appeared in a crowd scene on General Hospital . She’d even brought the clip to drama class so everyone could watch it.

  Tommy grinned at Cheryl. “Hi, Cheryl. Come here a second, will you?”

  Jennifer felt a stab of jealousy as Cheryl sat down next to Tommy. He hadn’t smiled at her like that. Of course, she didn’t have long blond hair like Cheryl, and she wasn’t wearing a tight yellow sweater.

  “Hey, Jen . . . nice outfit!” Brian Garvey gave her a wave as he came in. Brian was the computer expert of the senior class, a short, dark-haired guy who looked like a nerd, but wasn’t. Brian had done all their special effects and sound mixing for the past three years. He loved anything technical and was always coming up with complicated simulations that looked very re
al on the stage.

  Right behind Brian was Melanie Carpenter, a tall, thin redhead who was totally gorgeous. Melanie had done some modeling and she wanted to be an actress, but she wasn’t a bit stuck-up about it. She was definitely the best actress in the senior class. She’d had the lead in the last three plays and they’d sold out for every performance.

  Just as Jennifer was about to ask Melanie what she was doing for her oral history report, Dale Prescott walked in. He sat down next to Melanie, flipped open his briefcase, and handed her some papers. Dale’s father, Dalton Prescott, was a state senator, and he was already grooming Dale for a political career. Melanie’s dad was the mayor of Foothill, and Dale had just come from one of his youth advisory meetings. There was no way Jennifer wanted to get stuck discussing politics with Melanie and Dale. She just wasn’t in the mood for a debate about the November election, or a rundown of what the city council had done lately.

  Since there was no one to talk to, Jennifer stayed in her seat and stared at the back of Tommy’s head. Love was strange. Tim was sitting right next to Tommy, and even though he was every bit as handsome, he didn’t make Jennifer’s heart flutter and her knees turn weak.

  The Jackson twins were different. There was no doubt about that. They were fraternal twins, not identical, and no one could tell they were twins unless they noticed their eyes.

  Jennifer sighed as she thought of Tommy’s green eyes, so deep and dark they reminded her of tropical foliage in an exotic rain forest. Of course, she’d never actually seen a rain forest, but that didn’t matter. Tommy’s eyes were the color a rain forest should be.

  Since Tim had to wear glasses, Jennifer had never really noticed that his eyes were the same deep shade of green. She’d discovered it quite by accident a few weeks ago, when Tim had taken off his glasses at the library to clean them.

  Tommy was taller, well over six feet, with broader shoulders and sun-streaked hair. Tim was two inches shorter, with darker hair and the strong, lightly muscled body of a swimmer. Body build was one reason the twins excelled in different sports. Tommy was the captain of Foothill High’s football squad, and Tim was on the track and swim teams.

  Their personalities were also very different. Tommy was aggressive and full of self-confidence, while Tim was shy. Tommy got by in school by cramming for tests. He seemed perfectly content to be in the top half of the class while Tim studied every night to maintain his straight-A average.

  There was another major difference, one that really bothered Jennifer. Tim was her friend and she spent time with him almost every day, but Tommy didn’t even seem to know that she existed.

  After she’d arranged her books and flipped open her notebook, Jennifer sat there, four seats away, and gazed at the back of Tommy’s head. More than six weeks had passed since Kelly’s funeral, and he still looked terribly sad. It made Jennifer want to move up to the empty seat behind him, and reach out to give him a hug. Poor Tommy. She knew she could comfort him, if he’d only—

  “Knock it off, Jen. You’re drooling over him again.”

  Jennifer’s cheeks turned beet-red, and she whirled around with a guilty look on her face. Had someone guessed how she felt about Tommy? But it was only Alexia Sussman, Jennifer’s best friend, and Lexie knew all about it. “Not so loud, Lexie. Someone could have—”

  “They didn’t.” Lexie interrupted, something she did quite often. “Relax, Jen. No one was close enough to hear. And Tommy’s so busy talking to Tim, he’s not paying any attention to us.”

  “I know.” Jennifer sighed deeply. “He said hello to me, but I don’t think he even noticed my new outfit.”

  “Take it from me, Jen. Guys never notice details like that. It’s just not in their nature. But that doesn’t mean Tommy didn’t think you looked good.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “I am.” Lexie sounded very confident. She’d grown up with three older brothers, and she considered herself an expert on guys.

  As Lexie unzipped her backpack and took out her books, Jennifer thought about Lexie. They’d been best friends since first grade, the year that the Sussman family had moved to Foothill. Lexie looked a little like a pixie, with black naturally curly hair, and she was short, only five feet four. Since Jennifer was almost four inches taller, she sometimes felt like a giant when she walked down the hall next to her friend.

  Lexie straightened her stack of books and leaned forward to stare at Jennifer intently. She was always very serious when she tried to play matchmaker, and she’d been pushing Jennifer to get things going, ever since the day Jennifer had finally admitted she thought she was in love with Tommy.

  “I take it you didn’t talk to him yet?”

  “No. Not yet.” Jennifer shook her head. “But I will, I promise.”

  “When?”

  “Soon.” Jennifer couldn’t help blushing slightly. Lexie didn’t seem to realize how difficult it was to talk to the boy you were crazy about.

  “Well, you’d better hurry. How are you ever going to get Tommy to ask you out, if he doesn’t even know that you like him?”

  Jennifer shrugged. They’d had this conversation before. “I’m just not ready, Lexie. I have to plan out exactly what I’m going to say.”

  “How hard can that be? Just catch him alone and ask him if he’d like to go to a movie with you. The worst he can do is say no.”

  “I know that.” Jennifer looked worried. “But what if he does? If Tommy turned me down, I’d be really embarrassed. I just don’t think I could handle it.”

  Lexie was silent for a moment and then she sighed. “I don’t know what to do with you, Jen. You’re really lacking in the chutzpah department.”

  “Chutzpah? What’s that?”

  “It’s a Yiddish word. I can’t translate it exactly, but it’s a combination of nerve, self-confidence, and effrontery. You know what effrontery is, don’t you?”

  “It’s guts.” Jennifer grinned. “I’m not a total dunce, Lexie. And chutzpah means guts?”

  “Well . . . not entirely, but it’s close. Do you want me to give you an example?”

  Jennifer nodded. Lexie had spent two weeks with her great-grandparents this summer, and she’d learned a lot of Yiddish words.

  “Chutzpah is a guy who murders his parents and then tries to collect welfare because he’s an orphan.”

  Jennifer laughed out loud. Lexie had a way with words and she was a walking, talking unabridged dictionary. Lexie claimed it was hereditary. Her father owned the Foothill Gazette and her mother was a freelance editor for a book company who sent her manuscripts from New York. It wasn’t surprising that Lexie was going to Smith to get her degree in journalism.

  “So what are you going to do about Tommy?” Lexie leaned close so they wouldn’t be overheard. “If you don’t make a move soon, some other girl will get to him first.”

  “I know. That’s why I asked Mr. Bensen to make Tim my chemistry partner. I’ve been going over there almost every day, but so far Tommy hasn’t seemed very interested.”

  Lexie sighed. “That’s because you made a strategic mistake. Tommy probably thinks you’re interested in Tim, and you know how close they are. You’ve got to make it clear that the only reason you’re hanging around with Tim is to get close to Tommy.”

  “But that’s not true.” Jennifer started to frown. “Tim’s my friend and I like him a lot.”

  “More than Tommy?”

  Jennifer’s frown deepened. “Well . . . no. At least I don’t think I do. But I don’t want Tommy to think that I’m using Tim to get close to him. And I don’t want Tim to think it, either.”

  “Why not?” Lexie raised her eyebrows. “Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing?”

  Jennifer opened her mouth to protest. That wasn’t what she was doing at all! But just then Miss Voelker came into the room, followed by their student teacher, Mr. Peterson.

  Everyone adored Mr. Peterson. The first day of school, when Miss Voelker had introduced him, they’d all ju
st sat there and stared. And then the whispers had started, gathering in volume until someone, Jennifer didn’t remember exactly who it had been, asked the question, “Are you Pete?”

  Mr. Peterson had laughed and they’d known for sure. He was Pete, the totally off-the-wall guy who’d starred in the Central Motors used-car commercials. They were on every Saturday, right in the middle of the Night Owl Movie, and Pete had done some incredibly funny things.

  In the first commercial, he’d driven through the front door of a church to scoop up the bride in a used Ford Bronco. He’d also taken four couples to the prom in an old black hearse, and herded cattle in a beat-up Cadillac convertible with steer horns wired to the front bumper. Pete had dressed up like Santa and driven around with five decorated Christmas trees in the shovel of a battered snowplow, and he’d pulled up to the drive-in window of a bank on a tractor-lawn mower. Pete was a drama major who’d put himself through college by doing television commercials, and everyone was glad he was their student teacher.

  Jennifer noticed that Pete looked unhappy, and so did Miss Voelker. Everyone in class seemed to realize that there was something wrong, because there was silence as Miss Voelker walked to the front of the room and sat down at her desk.

  “I’ve got some bad news.” Miss Voelker sounded very upset. “Pete? Why don’t you tell them?”

  Pete walked to the front of the room. “I’m sorry, guys . . . but we’re going to have to cancel the fall play this year. We just found out that the new theater wing won’t be finished until after Christmas.”

  There were predictable groans from the class. They’d all been looking forward to performing in the new theater. Jennifer raised her hand. “Isn’t there another theater that we could use?”

  “We tried to find one,” Pete answered her. “Miss Voelker and I called every decent-sized auditorium in town, and they’re booked up solid until Christmas. We even tried the other schools in the area, but they have their own fall plays.”