The Morning After (Sweet Valley High Book 95) Read online

  THE MORNING AFTER

  Written by

  Kate William

  Created by

  FRANCINE PASCAL

  Copyright © 2015, Francine Pascal

  For several minutes Jessica stood, looking down at the grave. Then in a soft voice she began to speak to the boy she had loved.

  "It's not fair," she said, reaching down to finger the wilted petals of a potted carnation. "You were too young, Sam. People our age aren't supposed to die."

  A tear ran down her cheek, and Jessica wiped it away angrily "It's Liz's fault!" she said. "Liz took you away from me!"

  She clenched her fists and tried to hold on to the anger. Jessica knew that her anger was the only thing that had allowed her to get through the weeks since Sam's death. She was afraid of letting go of it. She was afraid of what might lie beneath it.

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 1

  Sunlight glinted sharply off the surface of Secca Lake, and Elizabeth Wakefield squinted into the glare. Despite the bright sunshine, the day felt oddly cold for Southern California. Elizabeth shivered.

  She usually thought of Secca Lake as a peaceful place. But that day it was more than peaceful—it was so silent that it was eerie. She listened for the soft lapping of water against the shore, for the singing of birds, and for the shouts of children playing. But all she could hear was a low humming in her ears, like the sound of a distant train.

  The water was different too. It was perfectly still, and its sapphire surface seemed cold and forbidding. Elizabeth shuddered and turned away from the lake. Her gaze roamed the silent shores.

  A few hundred yards away she saw a figure standing, staring at the lake. For a moment Elizabeth felt as if she had stepped out of her body and was watching herself. Despite the distance, and even though the girl's back was to her, Elizabeth knew that the girl on the shore was sixteen years old and five foot six, exactly as she herself was. Then Elizabeth laughed nervously. Of course. It was her identical twin sister, Jessica.

  Elizabeth's long, shiny blond hair streamed out behind her like a golden flag as she ran down the beach toward her twin. Her sister's hair was tucked under a knit hat, and as Jessica turned to face her, Elizabeth noticed that the hat exactly matched the blue-green of Jessica's eyes.

  Elizabeth stopped and stared. This couldn't be her twin. Jessica's eyes were usually as warm and sparkling as Elizabeth's own. This other girl's eyes were the same shade of blue-green, but they were cold and crystalline—and there was an empty expression in them that frightened Elizabeth.

  "Jess?" Elizabeth called uncertainly. But as she said her twin's name she realized that the girl was not Jessica.

  The girl began gliding toward her in slow, measured paces, smiling coldly. As she walked, she held her right hand behind her back.

  Elizabeth's forehead beaded with perspiration. The humming in her ears escalated to a roar, as if she were standing in the path of an oncoming train. The girl who had looked like Jessica raised her left hand and whipped off the knit hat, and Elizabeth gasped. The girl had long hair the color of midnight.

  Her right hand swung toward Elizabeth, and the cold sunlight flashed off a huge butcher knife.

  Elizabeth tried to run, but couldn't. Her limbs seemed frozen in place as she watched the gleaming knife come closer and closer. She screamed. . . .

  Elizabeth sat up in bed, gasping for breath. She pushed back the damp strands of hair that clung to her forehead. Then she held one hand, trembling, over her pounding heart.

  "It's just a nightmare," she told herself aloud, trying to control her breathing. She had been having the same nightmare ever since the Jungle Prom, the night of Sam Woodruff's death.

  She lay back down and curled up on her side. Tears streamed down her face and spilled onto her pillow. "Why did I ever plan that stupid dance in the first place?" she whispered.

  Not long before, Elizabeth had been excited about the dance. She and Jessica were the ones who had come up with the idea for the Jungle Prom, as a benefit to raise money for saving the rain forests.

  Now the whole evening seemed like a nightmare. The thought of it terrified her, though she could remember only a few fleeting images after her boyfriend, Todd Wilkins's, election as Prom King . . . the tension level rising as more students arrived from Sweet Valley's archrival, Big Mesa High School . . . she and Sam, Jessica's boyfriend, dancing while Todd posed for photos . . . she and Jessica glaring at each other across the room as ballots were handed out for Prom Queen. . . .

  Why had it seemed so important to both of them to be chosen Queen? Why had they fought each other for the title? She was sure that the accident never would have happened if she and Jessica hadn't been competing so viciously against each other.

  Elizabeth recalled how impatient Todd had been with Elizabeth's obsession to be Prom Queen. By the time she had realized that the title wasn't worth fighting Jessica for, it had been too late. Now Sam was dead, and she had lost her sister, too.

  As hard as she tried, Elizabeth couldn't remember the accident that had killed her twin's boyfriend. All she knew was that she, Elizabeth, had left the dance with Sam. They had been seen together in the parking lot of Sweet Valley High School, walking toward the Jeep that the twins shared. A half hour later, police had arrived at the crash scene to find Elizabeth wandering in shock, and Sam dead.

  "I killed him," she whispered. The terror of the dream was beginning to fade, only to be replaced by an even worse feeling of dread. Sam had been Jessica's boyfriend, but he was also Elizabeth's friend. Now he was dead.

  Sam's funeral the day before had been one of the worst experiences of Elizabeth's life. She hadn't been able to say a word to Sam's parents, and she had been terrified that they would say something to her. At the gravesite she had stood between her parents, grateful for their strength and protection. She was sure the Woodruffs were staring at her, were whispering that she had murdered their son. She couldn't face them, and for the entire ceremony she had remained motionless, looking down at her black pumps. The intermittent sobs of Sam's mother ripped to the very core of Elizabeth's soul.

  After the ceremony, several of Elizabeth's friends, including her best friend, Enid Rollins, had tried to speak to her, but she remained rigid and stared at the ground. She knew that if she accepted anyone's sympathy, she would break down completely.

  A few minutes later, she had come face-to-face with her boyfriend, Todd Wilkins. She hadn't spoken to him since the accident. He hadn't called, and she had been incapable of calling him. Her heart wrenched at the stricken look on his face, but she honestly didn't know what to say to him. Apparently Todd couldn't find the right words either. He had murmured something polite and hurried on.

  As for Jessica, she had been too upset even to attend the funeral. Jessica had been one of the first people at the scene of the accident. She had been so upset that she required sedation. Elizabeth's heart went out to her sister. Jessica had a history of an infatuation with a different boy every month, but Sam had changed all that. Jessica had really loved him. And now he was gone.

  Sam's death had torn a rift between the two sisters that seemed as wide as the Pacific Ocean that bordered on their usually idyllic California hometown. Elizabeth had never felt this isolated from her sister.

  The identical twins had always been very close, despite
occasional conflicts caused by their completely opposite personalities and interests.

  Elizabeth, the older sister by four minutes, was considered the dependable one. She had rescued Jessica dozens of times from the scrapes Jessica always managed to get herself into. But Elizabeth had always known she could count on Jessica when she really needed her. Now, Jessica hadn't even spoken to her since Saturday night.

  Not that I can really blame her, Elizabeth thought. I don't deserve to be forgiven. I killed Sam. I—

  Hearing a roaring sound in the distance, she stopped abruptly and clutched her pillow in terror. For a moment Elizabeth felt that her nightmare was rushing back and overwhelming her. Then she heard the long whistle of a train and sighed in relief.

  I'm turning into a real basket case, she thought, rolling over on her back and looking up at the ceiling. A train goes by on the other side of town, and I'm practically hiding under the bed, just because it sounds like something I heard in a dream.

  She reached up and fumbled around on her bedside table until she found her reading lamp and switched it on. She knew she wouldn't go back to sleep for the rest of the night. She couldn't handle any more bad dreams.

  Elizabeth took a tissue from a box on her nightstand and wiped the tears from her face. "This can't go on," she whispered. "I can't live like this."

  She stared at the closed door to the bathroom that connected her room with her sister's.

  She had to talk to Jessica, Elizabeth vowed. She had to make Jessica talk to her.

  Sunlight streamed through Jessica's bedroom window. She opened her eyes sleepily and stretched her arms toward the light. For a moment, she imagined how pretty she must look with the rays of the sun creating highlights in her golden hair. Sam loves the way my hair looks in the sunlight, she thought.

  Then she sat up, suddenly feeling as if she were going to throw up.

  Sam.

  "It's not fair," Jessica whispered. "It's just not fair." A wave of guilt swept over her at not going to Sam's funeral the day before. "Some girlfriend I am," she said. To stop herself from thinking anymore, she quickly jumped out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

  Jessica pulled opened the bathroom door. For a moment she thought she was looking into a mirror. Of course, it was just Elizabeth, entering the bathroom from her own room at the same time.

  For an instant the girls stared at each other without moving. Her twin looked as if she hadn't slept in a week, Jessica saw. Elizabeth's forehead had been bruised in the accident. Now the bruise was fading, but her face was so pale that the injury looked as if it had been painted on fresh.

  "Jessica—" Elizabeth began, her eyes pleading.

  Jessica glared at her sister. Then without a word she spun around, stepped back into her own room, and closed the door.

  She walked to her window and looked out at the lush grass and the clear, cloudless sky. Elizabeth had always said that they were lucky to live in a place as beautiful as Sweet Valley. I don't feel very lucky, Jessica thought, blinking back tears.

  Jessica didn't want to feel sorry for her sister, but she couldn't help thinking that Elizabeth seemed to be growing more and more depressed these past few days. She must be suffering terribly, Jessica thought. Elizabeth had always been there when Jessica had needed her. Maybe they should be helping each other now, instead of—

  Jessica bit her lip until she tasted blood. Then she shook her head resolutely.

  "No," she said aloud. She didn't need Elizabeth's help. And Elizabeth didn't deserve hers.

  Jessica clenched her fists at her sides. Sam is dead, she reminded herself. And Elizabeth killed him.

  Chapter 2

  The light turned red just as the black Porsche approached the intersection. Bruce Patman stopped the car and leaned against the steering wheel, a smile on his handsome face.

  He was imagining a day that looked a lot like this glorious Wednesday morning. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and he was sitting on a blanket by the shores of Secca Lake, listening to a slow jazz song on his portable CD player. He opened a bottle of the finest California cider, and then watched the most beautiful girl in the world as she expertly spread caviar on crackers.

  She held a cracker out to him, but instead of taking a bite, he put the cracker on a plate and looked into her clear blue eyes. He swept her long black hair away from her delicate face and traced the outline of her cheek with his finger. He tilted her chin up slightly and leaned forward to kiss her soft, full lips. . . .

  A horn blared, and Bruce's head snapped around to look in the rearview mirror. Behind him, a bald man leaned on the horn of a red station wagon. The man's face was about the same color as his car.

  "All right, all right!" Bruce said aloud. He put the car in gear and drove through the intersection. "What's your hurry, man?"

  The station wagon careened past the Porsche. Normally Bruce would have floored the gas pedal and shown Mr. Station Wagon what a real car could do. But that day it didn't seem to matter. Bruce continued slowly on his way to school, still thinking of the beautiful blue-eyed girl.

  Suddenly he became aware of the reggae song that was playing on the radio. It was the same song that the band had been playing at the dance Saturday, just before he and some of the other guys had left the gym to follow the Big Mesa students out to the football field.

  Saturday night had been rotten in a lot of ways; Bruce hadn't even known until the next morning just how bad it was. That was when he'd heard about the car accident that Sam Woodruff and Elizabeth Wakefield had been in.

  Bruce didn't know Sam very well—Sam went to Bridgewater High School, not Sweet Valley High. But he was the same age as Bruce and had always seemed like a nice-enough guy. Sam couldn't help it, Bruce thought, if Jessica Wakefield had him wrapped around her little finger. Now he was dead.

  Then there was that trouble with Lila Fowler. Lila was pretty enough, Bruce admitted—beautiful, actually—but she and Bruce had never gotten along; her new-money background represented everything that the traditional Patmans hated. Her accusation against the school counselor on the night of the dance was pretty serious. Some of the kids at school seemed sympathetic toward Lila, but most were unsure exactly what to believe. Bruce suspected she had made the whole thing up; Lila had always been a tease.

  Of course, Bruce had been at the dance Saturday night when the incident had supposedly happened. But by the time the police found Lila screaming in a classroom, Bruce was already unconscious on the football field.

  The fight on the football field hadn't come as any surprise to Bruce. From the moment the first group of guys from Big Mesa had arrived at the Jungle Prom, he knew that the night would end in violence. Anyone who was looking for trouble so intently was certain to find some. Physical violence wasn't usually his style, but he certainly wasn't going to back away from it, either.

  For several weeks tension had been building between the two schools. A few wieners like Wilkins had tried to defuse the situation. But Bruce didn't think anybody could have prevented that fight.

  He still felt a mixture of fear and exhilaration when he thought about it. It had been dark on the football field; he could barely see what was happening. Somebody hit him from behind and he fell. Suddenly a guy who was built like Mount Whitney was standing over him with a baseball bat, and Bruce was sure he was going to die.

  Then she had saved his life.

  He remembered the sound of her voice and the way her black hair glistened in the dim light from the far-off windows of the school. He remembered her big blue eyes, luminous in the darkness. But that was all he remembered.

  She saved my life, he thought, touching his bruised face. And I don't even know her name.

  He had no idea how to find her, and no experience with this sort of thing. After all, Bruce Patman had never chased a girl in his life. As the richest, best-looking senior at Sweet Valley High, he'd never had to.

  Suddenly he had a vision of himself as Prince Charming, searching the town
for his raven-haired Cinderella, who had disappeared before the ball was over. Then he shook his head and laughed at himself as he turned onto the street the school was on. He should just forget about her. There were dozens of girls who would give anything to go out with him. But he knew he could never forget his blue-eyed Cinderella.

  Bruce drove into the school parking lot. By instinct he cut in front of Sandra Bacon's Toyota to take the last empty space in the row. But Bruce wasn't thinking about parking spaces or cars or even school. After turning off the engine, he sat for a moment in the parking lot and leaned on the steering wheel, remembering every detail of his encounter with the beautiful, mysterious girl from Big Mesa High.

  "That's it!" he said, slapping the steering wheel with his palm. Why hadn't he thought of it earlier? He would hang around Big Mesa High School every day as school let out, he decided. He would keep going back there until he found her!

  After Saturday night's fight, Bruce knew that hanging out around Big Mesa could be dangerous. Guys like that brute with the baseball bat just might be the type to hold a grudge—and pulverize him.

  I don't care, he decided, I'm going to find that girl no matter what it takes. And no one's going to stop me!

  Lila Fowler slipped through the classroom door that morning and walked slowly to a desk in the back of the room. She was afraid to look up. She felt sure that everyone in her homeroom was staring at her.

  After she sat down, Lila felt better, since she was less conspicuous. She shook her head slightly so that her long, light-brown hair fell around her face. Then she peeked at her classmates. They were looking away from her now, talking with each other and frantically finishing their first-period homework, as if it were any normal day.

  But it wasn't a normal day. That Wednesday morning was Lila's first day back at school after the Jungle Prom. Her classmates were looking away from her on purpose; she was sure of it. They were probably too embarrassed to acknowledge her presence. They must think I made up the whole thing, she thought glumly.