White Lies (Sweet Valley High Book 52) Page 7

  "Dad." It came out in a whisper. Jennifer looked away and blinked. Her eyes were suddenly swimming with tears.

  "Jen—" Instinctively, John stretched out his hands to her. He couldn't stand to see the pain in her face.

  But she glared at him and stopped him dead. "You let me go on hating my father."

  John nodded. "I know, but I—"

  "I don't care what your excuse is," she cried, wiping away a tear. "All I know is I have to go to the hospital and tell him." She turned and strode out to the hallway and stopped.

  John looked at her rigid back. It seemed to emanate pain and anger and disappointment. "Do you need a ride?" he asked nervously.

  Jennifer glared fiercely at him but growled, "Yes. I do."

  "Liz Wakefield drove me over," he explained as he walked closer to her. "I'm sure she'll give us a ride."

  Without answering, Jennifer stalked outside ahead of him, heading for Elizabeth's red Fiat. John caught Elizabeth's gaze and gave her a distraught look. Elizabeth saw and nodded.

  "Can you give me a ride to the hospital, Elizabeth?" Jennifer asked. Her voice was tightly controlled but about to break.

  "Sure. No problem. But you guys will have to double up. As you can see, there's a small backseat, but it's full of Jessica's stuff. She was supposed to clean it out, but if you know Jessica . . ."

  A flush of embarrassment washed over John as he clambered into the passenger seat. Jennifer sat stiffly on his lap, as though she couldn't stand to touch him but didn't have a choice. It was hard for him to have her so close. He could feel how angry she was by her tense, unyielding muscles.

  The three were absolutely silent as Elizabeth maneuvered the car through traffic. Across town, they entered the parking lot of Joshua Fowler Memorial Hospital and found a parking space near the main entrance.

  Jennifer didn't say a word. She just jumped out and hurried to the door without looking back. In the car, Elizabeth and John exchanged a look.

  "How did she take it?" Elizabeth asked softly.

  John swallowed hard and shrugged. "How do you think?" he choked out, looking away. "Come on."

  When they got to the main desk, they were just in time to see the elevator doors close. Jennifer was already on her way up.

  "What room is Mr. Brian Mitchell in, please?" Elizabeth asked the receptionist.

  After consulting a computer terminal, the woman said, "Five-thirty-eight. But you can't go up there. That's in ICU."

  John grabbed Elizabeth's hand and pulled her to the elevators. "Come on."

  "Did you hear what she said?" Elizabeth whispered as they dodged into an open elevator. John nodded grimly and pushed the button for the seventh floor. "He's in Intensive Care."

  John didn't answer.

  The car sped upward. John could hear his heart beating behind his ribs. He couldn't think. He didn't want to think. At last the elevator came to a stop, and the doors slid open. When John stepped out into the corridor, the first people he saw were Jennifer and Mrs. Mitchell.

  Jennifer whirled around to confront him. "You couldn't have told me an hour ago, could you?" she said in a choked, bitter voice.

  A cold panic swept over John. He couldn't say anything.

  Elizabeth came forward, an anxious look in her eyes. "Hello, Mrs. Mitchell, I'm Elizabeth Wakefield. Is Mr. Mitchell all right?"

  Jennifer's mother drew a deep breath. "He took a turn for the worse this afternoon. They moved up the bypass surgery. He's being operated on now."

  The words sent a shock through John, and he turned to look helplessly at Jennifer. If her father didn't pull through, Jennifer would never have the chance to apologize. And it would be his fault.

  Ten

  As Elizabeth watched, Jennifer's face crumbled, and the girl burst into loud, uncontrollable sobs. Without warning, Jennifer punched John in the chest, and he staggered backward.

  "Get out of here," she cried. "Just leave me alone."

  Everyone stared at her, shocked.

  "Jennifer! What are you doing?" Mrs. Mitchell said. She looked at John in embarrassed disbelief. "John, I'm sorry. I don't know why—"

  "It's—it's my fault," he stammered, his face bright red. "I was the one—"

  "Just get out of here," Jennifer repeated. She turned away and buried her face in her hands.

  Her heart full, Elizabeth took John's arm firmly to steer him away. She gave Mrs. Mitchell an apologetic look. "I'm sorry. We'd better go. I hope Mr. Mitchell is all right." Turning to John, she added in an undertone, "Come on. It's a bad time, John."

  "But I want to explain—" he began. Elizabeth shook her head.

  The painful sound of Jennifer's crying filled the hushed hospital corridor. Reluctantly John let Elizabeth pull him away, and he looked at her with the most mournful expression she had ever seen.

  "Come on," she repeated. She pulled him gently toward the elevator and led him inside. As the doors slid shut she let out a sigh. "I'm sorry, but I really thought it was better if we just left."

  "You're right. But at least— I want to stay and wait," John corrected himself. He bit his lip and glanced at Elizabeth. "I want to make sure Mr. Mitchell's all right. Let's just wait downstairs."

  Elizabeth thought it was a good idea to leave and let things settle down. There was nothing they could do for Mr. Mitchell, and Jennifer certainly didn't want any comfort from them. But Elizabeth could understand how John felt. She had waited in hospital waiting rooms before herself. When her best friend, Enid Rollins, had undergone back surgery, Elizabeth had waited for hours. Knowing she couldn't be any possible use to her friend hadn't deterred her then. And it wasn't deterring John now.

  The elevator opened onto the main lobby, and John walked out, his hands deep in his pockets. Elizabeth suppressed a troubled sigh and followed him slowly into the lounge.

  "He's got to pull through," John was saying under his breath. Scowling fiercely, he paced back and forth.

  Elizabeth perched on the edge of a chair and watched him in silence. She wished there was something she could do to lighten his burden of guilt. Her heart ached to see how torn apart John was.

  She glanced apprehensively at the wall clock, then crossed to the receptionist's desk. "Excuse me. I was wondering, is there any news about Mr. Mitchell's condition? He's in surgery right now," she explained.

  The duty nurse gave her a sympathetic but regretful smile. "I'm sorry, I can only give out information on patients to members of the family."

  "But—" Elizabeth cast an agonized look over at John. He was slumped in a chair. She turned back to the nurse. "We're friends of the family. We just wanted to know—"

  "I'm sorry." The nurse shook her head firmly. "It's against hospital rules."

  Elizabeth nodded in defeat and walked back to John. He raised his head and stared at her blankly as she approached. "They won't tell us anything, John. Even if we stay, we won't know how he is."

  "Liz . . ." He squeezed his eyes shut. "I feel so helpless."

  "Come on. Let me take you home. Even if it all turns out fine, Jennifer probably won't want to talk to you for a while."

  "If ever," John added bitterly. But he nodded and looked her in the eyes. "You're right, though. There's no point in staying here."

  "I know I'm right." Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief and lightly touched his arm. "Come on."

  John followed her silently, dragging his feet. In the car, though, he let out his anger. "I was only trying to help her, and I made such a giant mess!" he said. He pounded the car door with his fist. "What a loser."

  Elizabeth turned in her seat and looked at him squarely. "Listen," she told him in a firm voice, "you're not a loser, John. You thought you were doing the right thing—you did do the right thing. And only because you care so much. That doesn't make you a loser."

  "Yeah, sure, Liz."

  She looked at him silently for another moment. She knew it would take some time for him to stop being so hard on himself. There wasn't anything more she co
uld do, even though it broke her heart to see how much he was suffering. Without another word she started the Fiat and drove him home.

  By the time Elizabeth got to her own house, she was sunk in gloom. She knew telling Luke Lander about Rick Andover's break-in had been the right thing to do. After all, she and John had witnessed a crime being committed. But since then, things had really gotten messed up. And it had all started with John asking her for some simple advice, too. When she thought back to how worried John had been at the beginning, she couldn't hold back a half-smile. If he had known then how much worse things were going to get, he probably would have been happy to have kept things the way they were.

  Sighing, she pulled into the driveway and climbed slowly out of the Fiat. She stood for a moment, breathing in the warm, fragrant air. It had been a long time since she had felt so drained. Finally she walked to the back door and let herself into the kitchen, where Jessica was busy rinsing salad ingredients.

  "Where have you been?" Jessica huffed. She brushed aside a stray wisp of hair with the back of one hand and gave Elizabeth a baleful look. "I thought you were going to help me get dinner ready. I already started the lasagna."

  "Sorry."

  Jessica arched her eyebrows. "So where've you been?"

  "At the hospital. Jennifer Mitchell's father is having an operation," she said hastily as Jessica's eyes widened. "I drove her over with John Pfeifer."

  Her twin just stared at her. "Since when do you drive around Jennifer Mitchell and John Pfeifer?" she demanded. She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "I swear, you let people just walk all over you. Anything they want, you do."

  "That's not true, Jess, and you know it." Elizabeth leaned back against the counter and crossed her arms, brooding. She was in no mood to argue with her sister.

  "Right," Jessica retorted sarcastically. She rinsed off a tomato and dried it vigorously, then darted a speculative look at her sister. "You're never going to believe what happened," she said, abruptly changing the subject.

  Elizabeth pushed herself away from the counter. As she opened a cupboard to get out dinner plates, she asked wearily, "OK. What happened, Jess?"

  "Well . . ." Jessica started slicing the tomato, her eyes narrowed in concentration. "You know Jack Hunter is giving a concert here soon, and A.J. wasn't able to get tickets."

  Jack Hunter, a hot new rock star, was coming to Sweet Valley in a few weeks. Tickets had gone on sale nearly a month ago and had sold out instantly.

  "Anyway," Jessica continued, "Lila's dad can get two tickets for Lila, and she said she'd take me, but that would mean that A.J. wouldn't get to go, and I don't think he'll like being left out."

  "That's too bad." Opening a drawer, Elizabeth grabbed forks and knives. She shrugged. "Maybe you shouldn't go."

  "There's no way I'm not going," Jessica replied emphatically. "But A.J. will probably act all hurt and rejected."

  "True."

  Jessica glared at Elizabeth. "You're not being a lot of help, you know."

  "Well, what do you expect me to say?" Elizabeth snapped. She was surprised at her hostility, but she just wasn't in the mood to listen to Jessica's petty problems. With what she had been through at the hospital, rock concerts seemed pretty trivial.

  Seeing the surprised look in her twin's eyes, however, Elizabeth softened her tone. "Look, Jess, I'm really tired, and it honestly doesn't matter very much to me how you work out this crisis, OK?"

  Jessica pouted. "You don't have to bite my head off, you know."

  "I'm sorry I yelled. Just don't expect me to solve every problem that comes along, that's all." As she spoke Elizabeth realized she was being defensive because of what had happened with John. He had turned to her for advice, and now things were in worse shape than before.

  So now I'm taking it out on Jess. Shaking her head, she stepped over to her twin and hugged her impulsively. "I'm in a bad mood. Just forget it."

  An hour later both Mr. and Mrs. Wakefield had come home, and the family sat down to dinner. As he served the lasagna, Ned Wakefield gave Elizabeth an inquisitive look. "You're pretty quiet tonight, Liz. What's up?"

  Elizabeth toyed with her water glass. "You know Mr. Mitchell?"

  "Sure. He's with Wells and Wells. I heard he's in the hospital," Mr. Wakefield added. "Doesn't he have a daughter in your class?"

  "She's a sophomore," Jessica supplied in a superior tone.

  Elizabeth glanced at her sister but didn't comment. Instead, she turned back to her father. "I was over at the hospital with her—her name's Jennifer—this afternoon and he had just gone in for a heart bypass—"

  "Oh, no!" Mrs. Wakefield gasped. She looked at her husband with concern. "It must be a rough time for them. I hope everything goes all right."

  Mr. Wakefield looked thoughtful. "The surgeons at Fowler Memorial are excellent, Alice. He's still a young man. He should do fine." His gaze rested on Elizabeth for a moment, and he registered the anxious look on her face. "How about if I make a call tomorrow over to Wells and Wells? They'll probably have some news."

  Elizabeth smiled gratefully. All things considered, John probably wouldn't be hearing from Jennifer. And Elizabeth knew that if she had anything to tell him the next day, he would appreciate it. "Thanks, Dad," she replied. "That'd be great."

  Eleven

  When Elizabeth got to school on Thursday morning, she found Enid Rollins waiting for her by their lockers.

  "Liz! Thank goodness you're here!"

  Elizabeth greeted her best friend with a broad grin. "It's nice to feel wanted," she said. As she began to turn her combination lock, she prompted, "So what's up? You look excited."

  "I need your help with something really important," Enid explained. "The Big Sisters program has been recruiting at my mother's office, and Mom and I were talking about it. We thought it'd be great if we could get girls from school to be Big Sisters, too."

  Elizabeth paused with her hand inside her locker and stared in admiration at Enid. Sometimes it seemed her best friend had the biggest heart of anyone she knew. Enid was always doing things for other people, and that was one reason why Elizabeth loved her so much.

  "That's a great idea," Elizabeth said. She hurriedly pulled out her chemistry book. "I'm not sure I have the time, though, with everything else I'm doing. What would we have to do?"

  "Well, basically, match up motherless, underprivileged girls with girls at school who have similar interests or backgrounds. Just coordinate the whole thing, really."

  Nodding, Elizabeth shut her locker, and they started walking toward their homerooms through the noisy, crowded hallway. The more she thought about it, the more Elizabeth liked it. There were plenty of juniors and seniors who could really make a difference in little girls' lives. Elizabeth knew her older brother, Steven, had made growing up- special for her—even if he was a pain at times! Not having an older sibling to turn to for advice and friendship had to be a lonely way to grow up, she thought, especially for an underprivileged child.

  "Have you talked to anyone at the Big Sisters office?" Elizabeth asked.

  Enid nodded enthusiastically. "Yesterday. And they said they could get a list of at least seven girls to start with."

  "Enid, you sneak," Elizabeth looked at her best friend and shook her head.

  "What?"

  "You never said anything about this, and you've done all this planning already."

  Enid shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh, that's just the way we sneaky people do things," she said. Grinning, she grabbed Elizabeth's hand. "So will you help?"

  "Of course I will, you dope! I'm busy, but this sounds too good to say no to. When do we start?"

  They stopped outside Enid's homeroom, and Enid shifted her books from one arm to the other. "As soon as I get the list, and maybe you could put something in The Oracle."

  "Good idea," Elizabeth replied warmly. "I can make the deadline this afternoon, and it'll be ready for Monday's paper."

  "This is really going to be great, Liz. I'll talk to you
later."

  "OK. Bye."

  As Elizabeth turned to head for her own homeroom, she started to think about the project. Already she could think of half a dozen friends of hers who would probably be willing to participate. With a feeling of enormous satisfaction, she slipped into her homeroom and took her seat.

  All morning John tried to catch a glimpse of Jennifer, but without success. He was nearly sick with worry wondering how Mr. Mitchell was doing. His parents had tried getting in touch with Mrs. Mitchell, but there hadn't been any answer at the house, and they didn't want to intrude at the hospital. So John was hoping that even if Jennifer didn't want to talk to him, at least she would tell him if her father was all right. Finally he ran across a girl from Jennifer's homeroom and asked if Jennifer had been in for attendance. When he found out she wasn't in school, he grew even more concerned.

  Deeply troubled, he drifted into the cafeteria at lunchtime, even though he didn't have any appetite. He stood still, gazing blankly at nothing and wondering what he should do.

  "John, how is everything?"

  He sighed gratefully at the sight of Elizabeth. At least there was one person who sympathized with what he was going through. "I don't know. Jennifer isn't in school today, and there's no answer at the Mitchells'. I don't know what to do."

  "Did you try calling over at the hospital again?" she asked. She gestured toward a nearby empty table, and they sat down.

  John rested his arms on the table and shook his head. He wished he could disappear. Everything was such a mess, and he didn't know how to straighten it all out again. "They won't tell me anything." He sighed. "God, I feel like the biggest jerk in the world. It's all my fault."

  "John." Elizabeth spoke in a firm tone and looked at him squarely. "Listen, it's not your fault Mr. Mitchell has a bad heart, and it's not your fault that Rick Andover broke into the music store. You're not responsible for all the bad things that happen in the world."

  He managed a weak smile, but he still felt terrible. "I just—What if he died? What if that's why Jennifer isn't in school today? What if—"