The Boyfriend War, page 2
He slammed a few dollars down on the table, next to his untouched hamburger. Then he strode out the door.
Elizabeth looked at Todd and shook her head. She didn't care how rich and powerful Bruce's family was. He had no right to criticize people that way—no right at all.
"It's bad enough when he mistreats the rest of the world," Amy said as Bruce Patman stormed out of the room. "But I've never heard him lay into his so-called friends like that!"
"Bruce has always been a freak," Jessica said with a shrug. "Who wants to talk about him, when Lila and I are leaving Sunday for Club Paradise?"
Amy sighed. She didn't want to hear again about Jessica and Lila's wonderful week.
"Where is Lila?" Caroline asked pointedly.
"She said her father needed her help choosing a present for her mom's birthday," Amy said.
"So, have you three figured out any plans for the week?" Jessica asked, with a twinkle in her eye.
"Unfortunately, yes," Amy lamented. "This will give you more to gloat about, Jess. Your sister and her drippy friends aren't the only ones writing family biographies this week. Mr. Collins broke the news to me today—my English grade is sunk if I don't get some extra credit. I have to pick an ancestor and write a report. Isn't that the dullest thing you've ever heard?"
"Yes," Jessica agreed. "Do you know who you're going to write about?"
"I haven't a clue," Amy said. "I don't have a single relative who's ever done anything interesting."
"Your mother's sort of a celebrity," Caroline said. "Dyan Sutton, local television sportscaster."
"Yeah, but I'm still supposed to be mad at her for grounding me last week. Jess, I know you've got some interesting relatives. Can I borrow one of them? I'll change the names, and Mr. Collins won't know the difference. Didn't you tell me you had a circus performer in the family?"
Jessica sipped her diet soda thoughtfully. "Actually, we've had a couple," she acknowledged. "But you're probably talking about Jessamyn Johnson, my great-great-grandmother."
"Jessamyn?" Annie asked. "You've got to be kidding. And let me guess, she had a twin sister named Elizabyn. Right?"
Jessica grinned. "Actually, her twin sister was named Elisabeth, with an s instead of a z. Jessamyn was sixteen years old when she joined the circus."
"She sounds perfect!" Amy said hopefully. "Can I borrow her for my English paper?"
Jessica shrugged magnanimously. "Go ahead. She's yours. I'll even ask Liz to keep an eye out for any old papers that might help you. After that, you can just make up anything else you need to fill in the gaps."
The engine of the black Porsche throbbed to life, and Bruce leaned back in the leather seat, closing his eyes. He waited for the rush of adrenaline he always felt when the engine engaged. For the first time since he'd owned the car of his dreams, the rush didn't come.
His fist tightened around the gearshift, but Bruce kept the car idling in the parking space. "Nothing's the same anymore!"
Everything that used to give him pleasure meant nothing to him now—his car, his money, even the coy looks from the sophomore and junior girls. He knew that those things hadn't actually changed. He was the one who was different. Everything he'd counted on all his life—everything that made him who he was—was crumbling to pieces.
It had all happened that morning at the breakfast table. Bruce was eating his eggs like any other morning, when his mother and father had told him the news: They were separating. His mother was moving out in a couple of weeks—maybe for good.
How could they do this? Bruce asked himself. Of course, his parents had been arguing a lot lately. But Henry and Marie Patman had been together for almost twenty years. Why now? Why me?
Bruce gripped the gearshift even tighter and gunned the engine again. Then he roared out of the parking lot. The familiar streets of Sweet Valley shimmered in the unseasonable heat. But all Bruce could see was his father's face as it had looked at breakfast that morning.
The most powerful man in town had a look of guilt on his face and tears in his eyes.
Chapter 2
"It's ten o'clock!" Jessica sang, bounding into the kitchen Saturday morning. "Only twenty-five more hours until my nine o'clock flight tomorrow—and then I'll be on my way to Club Paradise!"
"Twenty-three hours," Elizabeth said dryly, turning back to the counter, where she was slicing fruit for brunch.
"Who cares? I'll spend today packing an awesome wardrobe, and then spend a whole week lying on the beach, flirting with good-looking guys, and having handsome waiters bring me mineral water to drink from coconut shells!"
She filled a glass of water and sipped it, eyes closed.
"It's too bad you'll be here getting sweaty the whole time, Liz," Jessica continued. "It's going to be about three hundred degrees all week. That reminds me—can I borrow your new green bathing suit?"
"Don't you already have about four of your own?"
"Five," Jessica said, "including the bikini I bought Thursday night. That's just the point. I've got six days to spend on the beach, and only five bathing suits. You wouldn't want me to show up in the same thing twice!"
Elizabeth recoiled in mock horror. "Certainly not! What would people think?"
"Besides," Jessica continued, "I don't want to commit myself to any particular tan line."
The twins' father walked into the room, mopping his forehead with a handkerchief. "Maybe brunch wasn't such a good idea in this weather," he said. "It's really too hot out to eat."
"All we're having is cold fruit and yogurt," Elizabeth said. "It'll be ready as soon as Mom gets off the phone. She's talking to somebody about a consulting job."
"She's talking about business on a Saturday morning?" Jessica exclaimed. "I can see where you got your serious personality, Liz. It's a good thing this family has me around to keep everything in perspective."
"Is that what you do around here?" Mr. Wakefield said, sitting down at the table. "Keep things in perspective?"
"Well, of course," Jessica replied. "Somebody's got to have her priorities straight. By the way, are you sure you don't want to write about me for your family biography, Liz? My life's a lot more dramatic than Mom's—what with expense-paid trips to the Caribbean and all."
Jessica whirled around to set a platter of fruit on the table. Elizabeth rolled her eyes at her father. Jessica was going to be impossible to live with for the next twenty-three hours.
"It's too bad the college is on a different schedule," Elizabeth said to her father. "Steven doesn't have spring break this week. I guess it'll just be you, me, and Mom sweating it out here."
"Hi, everyone!" said Alice Wakefield, hurrying into the room. Elizabeth thought she looked almost as excited as Jessica. "That was Hank Patman on the phone. His company has a subsidiary opening soon in Chicago, but there are major problems with the new plant. He's asked me to come on board as a design consultant, to take over the project and set things straight."
"That's wonderful, honey!" said her husband.
"It's a great opportunity for me to build up a track record in that part of the country," Mrs. Wakefield said. "And Hank is willing to pay me a lot of money for just a few weeks of work—though they'll be awfully busy weeks."
"I didn't know you knew Mr. Patman well enough that he'd think of you for a job like that," said Elizabeth.
Her mother turned quickly to open the refrigerator. "Sweet Valley is not that big a town," she explained. "It's not exactly crawling with interior designers."
"Everyone knows you're the best," Jessica said with a shrug. "But did you hear the really big news about Mr. Patman?"
"What big news?" Mrs. Wakefield asked.
"D-I-V-O-R-C-E!" Jessica sang loudly. "I have it on very good authority that Mr. and Mrs. Patman are separating and will probably get divorced!"
"Jessica!" her father reprimanded her. "That's not a very sensitive attitude."
"So? The Patmans are not a very sensitive family."
Elizabeth sighed. She remembered when her own parents had separated. Elizabeth, Jessica, and their older brother, Steven, had gone through several terrible weeks, fearing that a divorce was imminent. Luckily, their parents had worked through their problems.
For a moment, Elizabeth tried to feel some sympathy for Bruce. Even a jerk like him had to have feelings. Then she remembered the way he had lashed out at his friends at the Dairi Burger the night before.
"It's too bad about the Patmans," she said. "But it doesn't seem to be having any effect on Bruce. He's as arrogant and unpleasant as ever."
"Try to be sensitive, girls," Mrs. Wakefield advised. "Bruce must be going through a difficult time. I'm sure his parents are too," she added thoughtfully. "Maybe this situation in Chicago is just what Hank needs—a chance to immerse himself in a pretty intense business problem."
Elizabeth realized her mother had been calling Mr. Patman "Hank." Elizabeth had trouble thinking of Henry Wilson Patman—the formal, elegant millionaire—as plain old Hank. She couldn't imagine being on such familiar terms with a man like him.
Mr. Wakefield smiled at his wife. "I suppose this job means you'll be the invisible woman around here for a couple of weeks."
"I'm afraid so," Mrs. Wakefield replied. "We'll be working long hours on this one!"
Elizabeth slumped back in her seat, suddenly feeling drained from the heat of the morning. The job sounded like a wonderful opportunity. But Elizabeth had looked forward to spending time with her mother during spring break, interviewing her for the family-biography project.
"Poor Liz," Jessica said. "It looks like you're stuck in the house all week with just Dad! But I promise I'll send you a really nice postcard from Club Paradise."
Jessica began reciting average spring temperatures in the Caribbean, but Elizabeth tuned out. Unfortunately, she realized, Jessica was probably right about spring break at home. Things would be lonely in Sweet Valley all week. Maybe I should have gone camping with Todd's family after all, she thought sadly.
"I need to pack that green bathing suit you promised to lend me," Jessica said, pushing open the door to her sister's room on Saturday afternoon. "Can I have it now?"
Elizabeth looked up from her reading. "I never said you could borrow it, Jess."
"Well, you didn't get a chance to actually say so, but you were going to let me use it. So just tell me where it is—"
Elizabeth arched her eyebrows. "Oh, I was going to let you use it, was I?"
"While you get it, I'll bring my big blue suitcase in here," Jessica said quickly, flashing her most engaging smile. "You don't mind, do you? I'm out of space to pack in my own room. But you have lots of empty space in here that I can use!"
Elizabeth laughed. "Honestly, Jessica. If you'd keep your own bedroom a little neater—"
Jessica made a face as she ran back into her own room. She returned a minute later, lugging an enormous suitcase.
Elizabeth helped her set it on the bed.
"What is all this stuff?" Elizabeth asked, pulling a slinky red dress from the jumble of clothes that was piled haphazardly in the suitcase. "I thought you were going to spend the week on the beach. You know—bathing suits, shorts, T-shirts . . ."
Jessica sighed. Elizabeth was so unworldly. "You don't know anything at all about a place like Club Paradise. I'll be on the beach during the day, of course. I'll need only bathing suits and cover-ups for that. But I'll need shorts for boating, and jeans in case it gets chilly in the evenings."
"What I wouldn't give for a few chilly evenings here this week," Elizabeth said.
Jessica had more exciting things to think about than the weather in Sweet Valley. "And at night," she continued dreamily, "all the good-looking guys who saw me in my bikinis on the beach will want to take me dancing. That's what the new red dress is for—and the sequined top with the black miniskirt. Remember, Liz, this is a classy place! And I've got Lila the Millionaire Clotheshorse for competition. Though I'm so grateful to Lila for choosing me to go with her that I might even consider letting her have first pick of the boys!"
"How generous of you," Elizabeth said, rooting through the pile of clothes in the suitcase. She held up a scrap of gold Lycra. "What's this—a headband?"
"No, silly, it's the top to a bikini!"
"You've got to be kidding! Do Mom and Dad know about this?"
"Why should they?"
"So they won't be too shocked when the Caribbean Vice Squad calls to tell them you've been arrested for indecent exposure."
"In the Caribbean, people are much less uptight about these things," Jessica said in her most authoritative tone.
"I hope for your sake that the bikini stays up," Elizabeth said dryly. "And what's this blue cotton skirt for? It doesn't look like your usual style, Jess."
"It's a golf skirt, silly."
"But you don't play golf."
"Sure I do!" Jessica protested. "Well, I haven't yet," she amended. "But I do if I meet a really gorgeous guy who wants to. If I didn't bring a golf skirt, what would I wear—a tennis dress?"
"Heaven forbid," Elizabeth said. "You might be a social outcast for life! Speaking of tennis dresses, you seem to have enough of them here to outfit Wimbledon."
"I only packed three!" Jessica said. "Oh, that reminds me—I need to bring four. Can I borrow the one you bought last month, Liz? It's a little high-cut at the neckline, but the skirt flounces just right to show off my legs."
Elizabeth sighed. "You might as well," she said in a resigned tone. "I'll die of heatstroke if I so much as think about running around on a tennis court here this week."
"As long as you're finding the tennis dress, you might as well pull out the green bathing suit, too."
"Why the sudden interest in my green bathing suit?" Elizabeth asked. "I didn't think it was sexy enough to live up to your standards."
"Not from the front," Jessica explained, "but it looks really great from behind!"
"You're going to change your suit every time you want to tan your back?"
Jessica sighed, exasperated. "If I go snorkeling, I'll need a suit that looks good from the back," she explained slowly, trying to sound more patient than she felt. "Don't you know anything?"
"Apparently not," Elizabeth said. She pulled a sheer white blouse from the suitcase. "Is this new?" she asked. "It's kind of pretty, with the big shawl collar—almost like a built-in cape."
Jessica nodded. "I bought it the other night," she said. "It's to wear with tight jeans, for horseback riding. It'll flow gracefully behind me in the breeze as I gallop into the sunset."
"Or as you fall off the horse," Elizabeth said. "You haven't been horseback riding in years."
Leave it to Liz to think of that, Jessica thought. "Can I borrow your white bag?" she asked. "Mine has jelly stains on it."
"I guess I'd better just say yes," Elizabeth said. "I don't want to hear how you managed to do that."
"I think I need another suitcase," Jessica said, staring at the pile of clothes. "I'm never going to be able to shut this one. Can I use your suitcase, too?"
"If you fold these neatly, instead of tossing everything together like a salad, all of your clothes will fit into this suitcase—and they won't wrinkle."
"Oh, no!" Jessica screamed suddenly.
"What is it?"
"I almost forgot my suntan lotion!"
Elizabeth laughed, and Jessica gave her a dirty look.
"You never told me which Club Paradise you're going to," Elizabeth said. "Aren't there several in the Caribbean?"
"Lila says it's in Jamaica—not far from Montego Bay."
Elizabeth stared at her. "Montego Bay? Isn't that the one that's advertised as the Kiddie Club Paradise? I thought it was for families."
"No way," Jessica said. "Well, I guess a few people might bring children, but I'm sure the Kiddie Club is separate from the adult part. They wouldn't allow kids to disturb the adults' fun!"
"Maybe I have it mixed up with another location," Elizabeth said. "I hate to admit it, but I envy you, Jess. I think the temperature's shot up another five degrees here, just in the last hour. And it's supposed to be even worse tomorrow!"
For the first time that weekend, Jessica truly felt sorry for her sister—stuck alone in Sweet Valley in the terrible heat, with only drips like Enid and Olivia to keep her company.
"Gee, Liz," she said. "It's too bad you can't come, too. You deserve a vacation almost as much as I do."
"Thanks," Elizabeth said, smiling. "You even sound sincere! And you're right. You do deserve a great vacation. I really hope it's everything you're expecting it to be, Jessica. I'm looking forward to hearing all about it! Until then, I'll be going to air-conditioned movies and working on my English project."
Jessica smiled warmly. She was glad she could count on Elizabeth to be truly happy for her. Of course, it was also kind of nice to see that her sister was a little envious. Jessica supposed the least she could do was show some interest in the project Elizabeth seemed so excited about.
"What did you say your English paper is on?" Jessica asked.
"I've only told you five times."
"I was distracted," Jessica said. "I had more interesting things to worry about."
"It's the family-biography project."
"Oh, yeah. Gee, I almost forgot to mention it, but Amy has to do a biography, too. I told her you might be able to help her out a little, Liz. You're so good at all that research stuff."
Jessica crossed her fingers behind her back. Elizabeth wouldn't like it if she knew Jessica was letting Amy borrow their great-great-grandmother Jessamyn. Personally, Jessica didn't see why it mattered, but Elizabeth could be picky about anything she saw as dishonesty. Jessica preferred to let Amy break the news to her—after Jessica was safely in Jamaica with Elizabeth's green bathing suit and anything else she needed to borrow.
Luckily, Elizabeth was a naturally helpful person.
"I don't know how I can help Amy," Elizabeth said with a shrug. "After all, it's her family. But I guess I could answer a few questions about where to look for information."
"And who did you say you're writing about, Liz?"
