Perfect Shot (Sweet Valley High Book 55) Page 6

Shelley started to protest. "But—"

  "Wait," he said. "Just let me finish. The reason I was going to call was to tell you that you don't have to panic about that picture. I stopped by Mr. Collins's office after school and told him I wanted it withdrawn from the competition. He was a little angry about it, but I told him it was an emergency, that there was no way that picture could be in the contest. So he called up his friend at the News, and they said they'd take it out."

  Shelley couldn't believe it. "You took it out of the running? But, Jim—"

  "So you don't have to worry," Jim repeated flatly. "Anyway, I'm sorry I got you so upset. I really didn't mean to."

  Shelley's stomach was churning. She felt terrible. Jim's voice sounded like a stranger's, cold and harsh. "You didn't have to do that," she said, aware of how pointless she sounded. After all, he had only done it because she had made such a fuss.

  "Well, it's all over now, so we can both just forget it," Jim said. "I guess I'll see you next week in school." Before Shelley could say another word, Jim hung up the phone.

  Shelley slowly put the receiver down. She had to blink hard to keep the tears from coming. "Well," she said out loud, "he's right. It's all over now." She got to her feet and walked across the room to her mirror. Looking at her reflection, she shook her head. Whatever Jim had seen as beautiful or graceful in her just wasn't there.

  Had she been crazy to try so hard to convince him that she wasn't beautiful, that she wasn't worth photographing?

  She couldn't think about Jim without a feeling of anguish. Something really important had started between them. Leave it to me, Shelley thought, to take something wonderful and turn it into a royal mess.

  "Well," Cathy said philosophically, finishing the pineapple-orange juice she had ordered at the outdoor café where she and Shelley were sitting on Saturday afternoon, "it sounds to me like you really can't do much right now. You're just going to have to wait to see Jim in school next week."

  "He didn't even come to the game this morning," Shelley despaired. Sweet Valley had beaten Emerson in the third playoff game, making the series score two games to one, with Sweet Valley leading. Next Friday could be the deciding game if Sweet Valley won for the third time in a row. "I never thought I'd be saying this, but I actually looked for him on the sidelines—and for his camera—and I was crushed when he wasn't there. I would have even put up with having my picture taken!"

  Cathy patted her hand. "At least one good thing's come out of this. You know how strongly you feel about him," she told Shelley.

  Shelley nodded sadly. She reached into her pocket for change and laid it on top of the bill the waitress had brought them. "I have to get going," she said. "I have an errand to run."

  Ten minutes later Shelley was leaning her bike against the garage adjoining Mr. Collins's attractive ranch house where he lived with his son, Teddy. Shelley had done some baby-sitting for Teddy, so she didn't feel uncomfortable going over to the Collinses' house to talk. And she thought Mr. Collins would understand once she explained why she was there. She rang the door bell, then shifted her weight nervously from one foot to the other as she waited.

  "Shelley! What brings you here on a beautiful afternoon like this?" Mr. Collins asked, giving her a warm smile and opening the door wider to let her in. "I thought you'd be out with the rest of the team, celebrating that wonderful victory you earned this morning."

  Shelley bit her lip. "Well, I'm going to go out with the team tonight. But I wanted to ask you something, and I thought it would be better if I came over and talked to you about it in person."

  Mr. Collins nodded. "Well, Teddy's out riding his bike with some friends. Can I get you a cold drink? Iced tea or something?"

  "No, thanks." Shelley sat down in the chair he offered her and tried not to wring her hands. "Listen, I know this is going to sound kind of odd, but I was wondering whether or not it's too late to put Jim Roberts's picture back in the News competition."

  Mr. Collins looked surprised. "Well," he said slowly, after a moment's thought, "I think Jim felt quite strongly about taking it out. I wouldn't want to complicate things even further by reentering it without his permission." He looked gravely at Shelley. "Did you and Jim talk about this?"

  Shelley looked down at the floor. "You know the picture is of me, right?"

  "No," Mr. Collins said. "The only thing I know about it is that Jim asked me to withdraw it."

  Shelley sighed. "Well, it's all my fault. Jim took some shots of me playing basketball, and I asked him not to show them to anyone. I've always been kind of"—she faltered—"self-conscious about my height. I know it sounds dumb, but I just don't like having my picture taken."

  "I can understand that," Mr. Collins said gently. He smiled at her. "I think we're all afraid of the things that make us stand out from other people." He cleared his throat. "The funny thing is, it's usually the things we're most embarrassed about that are the very things other people envy in us."

  "Well," Shelley said, twisting a ring on her little finger, "I made Jim promise not to show anyone those pictures. And he ended up entering one of them in the contest without telling me about it. So I blew up at him." She stared at Mr. Collins, waiting for him to be shocked. But he didn't seem to be.

  "And that's when Jim asked me to take the picture out of the contest," he mused. "Well, that explains a lot." He stared at her. "Except for one thing: Why do you want the picture to go back in?"

  Shelley frowned. "It's hard to explain. When I was playing this morning, I kept thinking about competition. When you play a lot of sports, you take competition pretty seriously. You know what it means to put all of yourself into something you want. I think Jim deserves recognition for his photography, and I think he ought to compete." She shrugged. "I'm sorry there was a misunderstanding between him and me, but I don't think that ought to ruin his chances in the contest."

  Mr. Collins smiled broadly at her. "You're a real grown-up, Shelley," he said quietly. "What you just said shows true selflessness. I think Jim Roberts is lucky to have you for a friend."

  Yeah, Shelley thought. Only we're not friends anymore.

  "So, can you put the picture back in the contest?" she asked.

  Mr. Collins got to his feet. "I'll call my friend at the News right away and see what we can do." He winked at her. "Something tells me we might be able to get it back in the running."

  For the rest of the weekend, Shelley tried not to think about Jim. But the harder she tried to get him out of her mind, the more she kept replaying that scene with him in the hallway on Friday. Maybe on Monday, she thought, once they were back in school, she could explain herself and apologize.

  But the first thing Monday morning, when she ran into Jim in the hallway, it became clear that the cold war between them was still going strong. Jim said hi and just walked past, not even stopping to talk. Shelley was so mad at Jim for ignoring her that when she ran into him in the lunchroom, she walked right past him, giving just a little nod of her head to show that she had seen him.

  "What's going on with you two? I've seen you be friendlier to the forward on Emerson's team than you're being to poor Jim Roberts," Cathy whispered as the two girls walked to practice together that afternoon. Jim and Shelley had just passed each other in the hallway again—this time barely acknowledging each other.

  Shelley frowned. "He doesn't want to talk to me," she said flatly. "What else can I do?"

  "How do you know he doesn't? Maybe he thinks you don't want to talk to him," Cathy reasoned.

  Shelley shook her head. "Forget it, Cath. I know what I know. He and I are totally finished —through—kaput. So let's not talk about him anymore, OK?"

  Cathy wrinkled her nose. "OK," she conceded. "I guess that means you and I are still going to the Varsity Club dance together this Friday, huh?"

  Shelley groaned. The dance was the last thing she wanted to think about at the moment.

  "Cathy," she said, "let's just try to get through one thing at a time, all right?
"

  What she didn't tell her friend was that she felt as if her heart was breaking. The truth was, she missed Jim. She wanted more than anything in the world to chase after him and tell him how she really felt.

  But her pride was far too great for that. And from the look of things, so was his.

  Nine

  Elizabeth and Jeffrey were sitting together in study hall when Mr. Collins came into the lounge with a big smile on his face. "Jeffrey," he said, "I have some news for you. Can you come down to my office for a few minutes?"

  Elizabeth's pulse raced. The News contest! Could they have heard already? It was only Wednesday, and the winning photograph wouldn't be published until Friday, but maybe the winner had already been announced. She gave Jeffrey's hand a warm squeeze as he got to his feet. "Good luck," she whispered.

  Mr. Collins smiled at her. "If you don't mind Liz coming along, she's welcome," he said to Jeffrey.

  Elizabeth grinned. "I guess you know how to read minds," she teased. It would have been agony waiting for Jeffrey to come back and tell her what happened.

  Jim Roberts was waiting for them in the office when they arrived. "I got the message from my math teacher that you wanted to talk to me," he said, looking uncertainly at Elizabeth and Jeffrey.

  Mr. Collins nodded, then closed the door of the office. "That's right. I have some good news for both of you. Jeffrey, your photograph won second place in the News competition. And"—he turned to Jim with a big smile—"you won first prize, Jim! Your photograph is going to be published on the front page of Friday's paper."

  Jim's face turned pale. "My—but wait a second," he said, clearly agitated. "That's impossible. I withdrew my photograph from the competition."

  Elizabeth and Jeffrey stared at each other, confused.

  "I know," Mr. Collins said, still smiling. "But Shelley came by on Saturday and insisted that we put it back in the running. And," he added, "it won! Congratulations! I can't tell you how proud I am of you both."

  Elizabeth couldn't understand the expression on Jim's face. Instead of looking elated, he seemed very distressed.

  "What is it, Jim?" she asked, putting her hand on his arm.

  "I just can't let that picture be published," he said anxiously. "Mr. Collins—"

  But Mr. Collins was busy locating some papers on his desk. "Now, I need you both to sign these release forms from the News," he announced. "Jim, your prize will be delivered to you on Friday." He beamed. "Your own video camera, and just in time for you to film the basketball game on Friday."

  "Yeah," Jim said, glancing down at the ground. "Right."

  Shelley was in the middle of lunch on Thursday when Jim came over to her, a tense expression on his face. "Can I talk to you?" he asked.

  Shelley looked across the table at Cathy, whose eyebrows were raised. "Sure," she answered, pointing to the chair next to them.

  "Alone," Jim said.

  "I was—uh, I was just leaving," Cathy said, scrambling to get all her things together.

  "No, stay," Jim said quickly, looking more embarrassed than ever. "I mean . . ."

  "I really was about to get going. We have a pep rally this afternoon, and I need to go over a few things with the coach first." Cathy winked at Shelley. "See you at practice," she called over her shoulder as she hurried off.

  Shelley looked down at the table. There was no way she could look Jim in the eye.

  "Listen," he said anxiously, setting his camera bag down on the table, "I've been trying to find you all day. I even tried to find you yesterday after school, but—"

  "I had practice," Shelley said, cutting him off. At once she wanted to kick herself. Why had she been so abrupt?

  Her tone seemed to make Jim even more ill at ease. "Oh," he said, fiddling with the shoulder strap of his bag. "Well, the reason I wanted to talk to you was . . ." He frowned, as if he weren't sure quite what to say next. "I mean, I wanted to tell you that it turns out I won the News contest."

  Shelley stared at him. For a minute she felt overwhelmingly happy for him. "That's fantastic!" she cried.

  Jim stared back at her. "I don't understand you," he said. "As far as I knew, I wasn't even in that contest anymore. I thought my entry had been taken out. When did you go over to Mr. Collins's house? What did you tell him?"

  Shelley's joy subsided. Jim was looking at her suspiciously. "Well," she said carefully, "I thought it over, and it seemed to me that I was really being a poor sport. I mean, you're a really talented photographer. I realized I was being a jerk about it. So I told Mr. Collins to put the picture back in the competition."

  Jim bit his lip. "I feel pretty stupid," he said. "I thought you didn't want that picture published. Then I find out that you don't mind after all."

  Shelley ran her finger along the edge of her tray. Jim didn't sound particularly happy that she had changed her mind. And she had made a huge sacrifice for him! The thought of that picture appearing in the newspaper was still agonizing for her. But she had tried to ignore her feelings and forget about it, for his sake.

  And was he grateful? No! He was acting annoyed that she had been indecisive about the picture at all.

  "Well," she said curtly, "I'm sorry if I caused you any trouble, Jim. The fact is, I realized that I was being a poor sport. I talked the whole thing over with Cathy, and she made me see how unfair I was being."

  Jim took a deep breath. "So that was what changed your mind, then, thinking that you were being a poor sport."

  Shelley nodded. "Anyway," she said, making it sound as though the conversation was more or less over, "I'm glad you won. That's great."

  Jim stood, picked up the camera bag, then blurted out, "I feel that you and I—we keep saying the wrong things to each other!" he blurted out.

  Shelley knew exactly what he meant. She had been so thrilled to see him when he first came over, and she had hoped there was a chance for them to set everything straight. Instead, they had just made matters worse.

  It was obvious that things between her and Jim were never going to be settled. And their relationship was never going to be the same again. It was over, and the sooner she accepted that the better.

  "What happened?" Cathy demanded later that afternoon in the gym. She was waiting for Shelley at the pep rally for the girls' basketball team.

  "I don't want to talk about it," Shelley said, taking her place on the side of the gym with the rest of the team. "Put it this way," she added. "You should have stuck around. Maybe things would've gone better between Jim and me if you'd been there. We sure manage to mess things up when it's just the two of us!"

  "Oh, no," Cathy said sadly. "I was sure you two would straighten everything out. Olivia told me that his photograph won first place in the News contest. So wasn't he psyched about that?"

  Shelley shook her head. "Not really. He didn't seem very psyched about anything—least of all about seeing me."

  Cathy didn't know what to say. "Well, maybe you two just weren't meant to be." She shrugged. "I don't know."

  Shelley didn't answer. If that was true, why couldn't she get Jim Roberts out of her mind?

  "Watch out!" Amy Sutton snapped at Jessica. The cheerleaders were forming a pyramid at the pep rally, only Amy was so busy trying to be more graceful than Jessica that she kept breaking position.

  "Stop it," Jessica hissed back.

  "Look, you two," Robin Wilson said to them. "We're working as a team here. Are you trying to kill us all or what?"

  Jessica had her eye on Patrick McLean, who was watching the cheerleaders from the bleachers. "See," she whispered to Amy under her breath. "Cut it out, or someone's going to get hurt." Jessica had been horrified when she found out Amy had asked Patrick to come to the pep rally. The humiliation of doing a silly little pyramid in front of him was almost more than she could bear.

  "No one's getting hurt, Jessica. It's just that I'm supposed to be in front and you're supposed to be in back," Amy complained.

  Robin put her hands on her hips. "I don'
t know what's going on here. Jessica, you know you're in the back in this formation. Now get into position!"

  Jessica glared at Amy. "Fine. You got your way. Now are you happy?" And before Amy could say anything she took her position—completely hidden from Patrick's view—and they completed the cheer.

  "He was looking at me! I know he was looking at me!" Amy exclaimed joyfully once they broke up and moved into a long line for the next cheer.

  Jessica glowered at her. "Yeah, well, so what," she managed to mutter. "He isn't going to dance with you at the Varsity Club dance tomorrow night. He's going to dance with me."

  "Want to bet?" Amy challenged her.

  Robin put her hands on her hips again. "You guys," she begged, "can't you at least pretend that you're cheerleaders?"

  "Yeah," Jessica whispered back to Amy. "What do you want to bet?"

  "I bet you"—Amy narrowed her eyes—"a whole outfit at Lisette's that I get him to dance with me tomorrow night before you do."

  "You're on," Jessica said grimly, putting her hand out to shake just as Robin stormed over to tear them apart.

  Jessica tried to catch Patrick's eye as she lined up for the next cheer. She was sure she could manage to get him to waltz with her the very first dance.

  In fact, she was so sure about it that she almost told Amy to double the bet.

  "Do you mean to tell us that your photograph is going to be on the front page of the newspaper tomorrow?" Mrs. Novak exclaimed excitedly.

  "Yes," Shelley said quietly, slumping down in a kitchen chair. "That's exactly what I'm telling you. But don't look so happy about it, Mom. Why would you want your giant-sized daughter's picture plastered all over the paper?"

  Mrs. Novak shook her head. "I can't believe you, Shelley. It isn't enough that you win every prize and award there is in the world of high school basketball. The fact that a photograph of you won first prize ought to be a hint that you're a beautiful girl. But you still manage to insist that you're a freak." She sighed. "Keep it up, and you just may manage to convince someone you're right. Is that what you want to do?"

  Shelley stared at her. Her mother had never sounded so harsh with her before. "No," she said, her voice trembling.