When Love Dies

by Francine Pascal

  “Steve.” One slender hand fluttered to her throat, but she revealed no other sign of emotion. “I—I was going to call and let you know.…” She sneaked a guilty glance at the suitcase that lay open on her bed. “I’m going to be out of town for the weekend.”

  With a hot rush, Steven’s heart started up again. “This is kind of sudden, isn’t it?”

  “I’m sorry, Steve.” She spoke so softly he had to strain to catch her words. “It’s just that—well, something came up. I am really sorry. I know I should have let you know sooner than this.”

  He glared at the half-packed suitcase. “Where are you going?”

  “I told you. Out of town.”

  “That could be anywhere. Come on, Trish. It’s me you’re talking to. Steve. Remember? The guy you’re supposed to be in love with. What in God’s name is going on here? You’ve been avoiding me for weeks, and now this.” He gestured angrily toward the suitcase. “I can hardly believe any of this is happening. It’s like being in a bad dream.”

  Two bright spots of color formed on her pale cheeks. “I guess this is it then,” she said wearily.

  “This is what?” Steven responded in confusion.

  “You want to break up. Don’t worry, Steve. I understand. I’m—I’m sure it’s better this way.”

  “Wait a minute! What are you talking about? I never said I wanted to break up. I love you, Trish. All I want are some answers.” He gripped her by the shoulders. “Trish, can’t you tell me what’s going on?” he asked gently. “I know there’s something wrong. Why can’t you trust me enough to tell me?”

  Her head dropped forward, her hair sliding down to shield her expression. “There’s nothing wrong, Steve,” she replied woodenly. “It’s just—well, lately I’ve been thinking maybe we shouldn’t see so much of each other. Look, you’re away at college most of the time. I’m sure there are plenty of girls you could go out with.”

  “You’re the only one I want!” he protested brokenly, tears filling his eyes. “Unless…”

  Tricia’s head snapped back. A strange emotion blazed in her eyes. “Unless what?”

  “Trish, are you trying to tell me you’re tired of me? That you want to go out with other guys?” Steven didn’t realize how tightly he was gripping her until she winced.

  She didn’t answer. She just stood there, looking at him in that strange way, her eyes burning into him. The force of her silence was like a blow. Suddenly Steven knew it was true, the thing he’d been avoiding all this time.

  He felt himself growing tight and angry once again. “You’ve met someone else, haven’t you? You’re going away with him for the weekend. That’s what you don’t want to tell me, isn’t it?”

  Tricia stood pale and still, except for the slight trembling that shook her from head to foot. She didn’t say a word.

  Steve stared at her in disbelief. Finally he said, “I trusted you. I loved you. I thought you loved me. God, Tricia, do you have any idea how I feel right now? It’s like part of me is dying.”

  “It’s better this way, Steve.” She spoke mechanically.

  “Yeah, I’ll bet it is. For you.” Abruptly he released her and turned away angrily. He had to get out. He felt as if someone had jabbed him in the gut.

  “One more thing,” he said in a bitter voice. “Whoever he is, wish him luck for me. I hope he makes out better than I did.”

  Tricia winced as if he’d struck her, but she made no move to stop him. It was only after she heard the thud of the front door slamming shut that a single word escaped her like a sigh, half whispered, half moaned: “Steve…”

  She collapsed onto the bed like a dress slipping from its hanger. She felt so cold, yet when she brought her hands to her cheeks, her face was burning. Scalding tears spilled down her cheeks. Except for the bare bulb casting a fierce white circle of light on the ceiling, the room seemed full of shadows, all crowding in on her.

  Her fists were clenched so tightly that she could feel her fingernails digging into her palms. I can’t tell him. It’s better if he doesn’t know the truth. Let him think I betrayed him. It’s better if he hates me.

  But the feeling that she was doing the right thing did nothing to lessen her misery. With a strangled cry, Tricia turned her face into the pillow. All the emotion she’d held back for Steven’s sake came rushing forth in heaving sobs that felt as if they were being torn from her insides, leaving emptiness in their place.

  She hadn’t known it would be so painful losing Steven. Hurting him the way she had was almost more than she could bear. It was all she could do to keep from breaking down and admitting the truth. But the truth would only hurt him more, she reminded herself sorrowfully.

  Tricia could still hear the doctor’s words echoing in her mind. “… We’ll do everything we can, but.… With treatment, perhaps six months.…”

  She hadn’t believed it then, but she had finally begun to accept it. Leukemia. Such an ugly, awful-sounding word. It had haunted her most of her life—ever since her mother had died of it. Tricia had been nine at the time, but she could still remember those dark, horrible days, the dim bedroom smelling of medicine, her mother’s gaunt face against the pillow. Her mother had always been so cheerful and full of smiles, but in the end she had wasted away to a dull-eyed skeleton. When she died, it was as if a light had gone out of their lives, especially her husband’s. He couldn’t seem to pull himself together. Drinking was the only thing that numbed the pain. He had loved his wife so much that something in him died with her. He couldn’t face the awful loneliness of life without her.

  Tricia didn’t want that to happen to Steven. Better to have him stop loving her. Better to have him think she was going away for the weekend with someone else. If he knew the truth—that she was going to the hospital for treatment—he would be devastated. He would only hang on more tightly.

  This way it wouldn’t hurt so much. Knowing she’d lost him was nearly as terrible as knowing she was going to die. But when you loved someone, you had to sacrifice your own feelings for theirs. This was her sacrifice. Her gift to Steven. The last gift she would ever be able to give him.

  Three

  Cara Walker slid into the seat next to Jessica’s just as the bus started up. Outside, the white-columned facade of Sweet Valley High, with its Romanesque clock and sprawl of green lawn, swept slowly past.

  “Is it true?” Cara asked, her brown eyes shining hopefully. She flipped her smooth, dark hair over one tanned shoulder as she leaned closer to her best friend.

  Jessica looked up from the magazine she was reading. “Is what true?”

  “You know,” Cara replied impatiently. “About Steve and Tricia. Did they really break up?”

  “Oh, that. Yeah, it’s true. And it’s about time Steve dumped her, too.”

  “Steve dumped her?”

  “Naturally,” Jessica answered in annoyance. “You didn’t think any brother of mine would get dumped by a Martin, for goodness’ sake.”

  “No—no, of course not.” Cara leaned even closer in her eagerness not to miss a single juicy word. “How did it happen? I want you to tell me everything.”

  Jessica smiled. Besides being her best friend, Cara was one of the biggest gossips in school. Anything she told Cara was sure to be spread over the entire campus by the next day. This was Jessica’s chance to make sure Steven didn’t change his mind and go back to that creepy Tricia. Besides, she knew Cara had a personal interest in Steven. She’d always had sort of a crush on him. Maybe that would come in handy, too.

  “I don’t know all the details,” Jessica said in a hushed voice. “All I know is that Tricia’s definitely out. Steve told me so himself. Good riddance is what I say. Now maybe Steve can find himself a girlfriend from a decent family for a change.”

  Cara pretended a sudden exaggerated interest in a piece of fluff that was sticking up from a rip in the seat. “Any candidates so far?”

  “Not yet, but I’m sure it won’t be long. After all, Steve’s not too
bad-looking.”

  Cara’s head snapped up. “Are you kidding? Your brother is a genuine, certified hunk. I wish—” She bit her lip.

  “You wish what?” Jessica’s aquamarine eyes took on a mischievous gleam.

  Cara was blushing furiously. “Never mind. It was nothing.”

  “Oh, come on, Cara, why don’t you just admit it?”

  “Admit what?”

  “That you’re dying to go out with my brother.”

  “I never said I was dying to go out with Steve,” she replied defensively.

  Jessica giggled. “No, if you don’t count the first thousand times. But even if you hadn’t, silly, it’s written all over your face.”

  Instinctively Cara’s hands flew to her cheeks. “Oh, Jess, is it that obvious? Do you think Steve knows?”

  “Don’t worry about Steve. Right now he wouldn’t know a brick wall if he ran into it.”

  Cara sighed. “Great. Does that mean I’ll have to hit him over the head to get him to notice me?”

  “I’ve got an even better idea. Don’t forget—you have a secret weapon.”

  “What secret weapon?”

  “Me!” Jessica’s smile widened to a dazzling grin. “With me on your side, Steve doesn’t stand a chance.”

  Cara sat back, dazed with happiness. “Wow! I can hardly believe it. Finally. Imagine me going to all those neat college parties with your fabulous brother.…”

  Jessica made a face. “Somehow I can’t picture Steve as fabulous. Sweet and lovable, yes. Fabulous, no.”

  “That’s just because he’s your brother. I don’t think my brother is very cute either.”

  “Your brother’s only thirteen. Nobody’s cute at that age.”

  As the bus stopped at a red light, Cara said, “Gosh, I almost forgot to tell you. Did you hear what happened to Jeremy Frank?”

  “You mean the Jeremy Frank?”

  “The one and only.”

  Everyone in Sweet Valley who owned a television set knew who Jeremy Frank was. He was the host of a popular local talk show called “Frankly Speaking.” He also happened to be tall, dark, and gorgeous, with the bluest eyes to hit the screen since Paul Newman. Practically every girl in Sweet Valley had a crush on him. Jessica was one of the lucky few who had actually seen him. She’d spotted him coming out of a supermarket once and had nearly dropped her bag of groceries. He was even cuter in person.

  Cara sighed. “It’s so tragic.”

  “Don’t tell me he got married!” Jessica cried in panic. She could think of no worse tragedy.

  “Gosh no. Nothing as bad as that.”

  “Whew,” Jessica breathed. “You had me worried for a minute. What did happen?”

  “He broke his leg. He’s in the hospital.”

  “Oh, no! That’s awful. How did it happen?”

  “He ran into a tree when he was skiing. I heard all about it from Janie McBride. She’s a candy striper at Fowler Memorial. She even got him to autograph his picture. Boy, I’d give anything to trade places with her. What luck!”

  “Just remember,” Jessica was quick to remind Cara, “you’re not supposed to be thinking about other men. You’re saving yourself for Steve.” But I’m free to do as I please, she added silently, conjuring up an image of Jeremy Frank’s handsome face. Cara had given her a great idea.

  “How can I be saving myself for someone who doesn’t even know I exist?” Cara wailed.

  “He will, he will. Just leave it to me,” Jessica assured her friend, although her thoughts were elsewhere.

  Now confident of Jessica’s help in her efforts to interest Steven, Cara moved on to the next item of gossip. She was like a fountain of information on the latest happenings in Sweet Valley—a fountain that never ran dry.

  “I heard something interesting at lunch today,” she said. “Lila told me there’s a new family moving into the Godfrey mansion. According to her, they’re fabulously rich. And they’ve got an eighteen-year-old son she says is a real hunk. I wonder what kind of car he drives?”

  Jessica stopped daydreaming about Jeremy and started concentrating on what Cara was saying. “What’s their name?” she asked.

  “Something with an M—Morrow, I think.”

  Jessica had heard her father mention that name. Probably because Ned Wakefield had been Morgan Godfrey’s lawyer until Mr. Godfrey’s death a few years back, and he still handled his estate. Jessica had been to the mansion only once, but it had made a lasting impression on her. It was by far the most fabulous house in Sweet Valley, even grander than the Fowlers’ mansion. Actually, it was more like a palace than a mansion, complete with marble arches, an indoor swimming pool, and servants’ quarters. The thought of a new family moving in was an exciting one. Jessica made a mental note to pump her father for more information when she saw him.

  Cara jumped up as the bus halted at her stop. “Got to go. Call me later, OK? I can’t wait to hear what kind of plan you’re cooking up for Steve and me.”

  * * *

  Two stops later, Jessica got off the bus and raced home, her mind busily clicking away. The get-Cara-and-Steven-together scheme could wait. She had something more important on her mind, but she’d need Elizabeth’s help.

  She found her sister upstairs in her bedroom. Elizabeth always got back from school earlier on the days when Todd gave her a ride. Jessica flopped down on her twin’s bed, scattering the articles Elizabeth had been proofreading for The Oracle, the school paper.

  Jessica gave a huge sigh and announced, “Life has no meaning.”

  Elizabeth greeted this statement with only the tiniest flicker of surprise. After sixteen years, she was used to her twin’s theatrics.

  “Jess, what are you talking about?” she asked.

  Jessica rolled onto her stomach, propping her chin with her elbows. “To be more to the point, our lives have no meaning. Have you ever thought about it, Liz? I mean really thought about how boring and meaningless our lives are?”

  “I guess I haven’t,” Elizabeth replied, a note of amusement in her voice. “How could my life be boring with you around?”

  Jessica plowed ahead as if she hadn’t heard Elizabeth’s comment. “Our lives are so narrow,” she intoned dramatically. “Besides going to school, we never do anything. Nothing important and worthwhile.”

  Elizabeth smiled. “You mean Jessica Wakefield thinks there’s something more worthwhile than broad shoulders and blue eyes?”

  Jessica let out another deep sigh and rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Liz, I don’t see how you can joke about it. I’m completely serious.”

  Elizabeth darted her sister a knowing look as she gathered the articles into a pile. “OK, Jess, who is he this time?”

  She’d been through this song and dance with Jessica more times than she could count. There was always some boy Jessica swore she couldn’t live without. Without him life had no meaning—even while half a dozen other guys were practically beating her door down to get a date with her.

  “How can you be so crass?” Jessica demanded indignantly. “This has nothing to do with a boy. What I’m talking about is giving up a few hours a week to bring comfort to the sick.”

  “Huh?” Elizabeth stared at her sister as if she’d just announced she were going to run for president.

  “Liz, I think we should volunteer to be candy stripers over at the hospital.”

  “Jess, have you gone nuts?”

  “What’s so crazy about it?”

  “Nothing. It’s just that I never expected you to be so, uh—interested in sick people.”

  “How can you say that? Don’t you remember the last time we watched Love Story on TV? I used up an entire box of tissues, and that was only for the first half.”

  Elizabeth sighed. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget.”

  For weeks afterward, Jessica had pretended to feel faint whenever a boy she liked came near, in hopes he’d think she had some romantic, incurable disease. It ended the day she pulled her act on Tom McKay an
d he’d commented nervously that he hoped whatever she had wasn’t catching.

  “Well?” Jessica demanded. “What about it?”

  “I don’t know,” Elizabeth said. “I’m awfully busy as it is with the paper and everything.”

  “But this is our big chance to save lives! Think of it! How can you turn your back on all those poor patients?”

  “I never heard of a candy striper saving anyone’s life,” Elizabeth remarked dryly. “From what I hear, all they do is go around passing out magazines and making sure no one dies of thirst. Besides, you don’t need me to join. If you want to be a candy striper so badly, why don’t you volunteer on your own?”

  “Oh, please, Liz! It just wouldn’t be the same without you. We’ve always done everything together. Anyway, Dad trusts you to drive the Fiat more than he trusts me.”

  “I think I’m beginning to get the picture.”

  “Does that mean you’ll do it? You’ll volunteer?” Jessica pressed excitedly.

  “I never said that. I’ll have to think about it a little longer.”

  “You’re the one who’s always saying people should give more of themselves,” Jessica wheedled. “Besides, think how much fun it’ll be—and we might even learn something.”

  Elizabeth gave in with a laugh. “OK, you win. Honestly, Jess, I think you’d make a better lawyer than Dad. You could probably talk a statue to life if you tried hard enough.”

  With a squeal, Jessica threw her arms around her sister. “You won’t be sorry, Liz! You’ll see! It’ll be terrific doing it together!”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “I don’t know how you manage to talk me into these things,” she said, but she was smiling. Part of the reason she always found it so hard to say no to Jessica was because she really loved her sister. Despite her occasional dirty tricks, Jessica really was a lot of fun. And maybe there was a serious side to Jessica that Elizabeth had never been aware of before. It certainly was generous of her to want to volunteer her time for such a worthwhile cause. Maybe there was hope for Jessica yet.

  Jessica kissed her sister’s cheek. “Liz, I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re absolutely the best sister in the whole wide world!”