When Love Dies

by Francine Pascal

  “Some secrets shouldn’t be kept,” Enid replied. “Remember how afraid I was when I was going out with Ronnie? I was so afraid he’d find out about the trouble I’d gotten into when I was younger. It turned out to be a good thing when he found out. It showed me what a narrow person he was.”

  “This is different,” Elizabeth said. “It’s not really my secret, so I can’t make that decision. I wish I could. I feel so awful about it, I don’t know if I can stand it!”

  “It sounds like too much responsibility for one person,” Enid advised thoughtfully. “I think you need to talk to someone. Someone older. Can you tell your parents?”

  “No. They’re too close. Oh, Enid, how can I tell anyone? I promised!”

  Enid slipped an arm around Elizabeth’s trembling shoulders. “I can see what this is doing to you. Liz, you’ve got to tell somebody.”

  Elizabeth sensed that Enid was right, but she still remained uncertain. Who? she wondered. Who can I tell?

  Eleven

  “This is good, Liz. It shows a lot of feeling and enthusiasm. I think we should run it.”

  Mr. Collins, faculty adviser for The Oracle, held up the typewritten pages Elizabeth had turned in a few days earlier. It was the first in a series of articles she’d planned to call “A Candy Striper’s Journal.” She’d been enthusiastic about it when she started it, but now she could only shrug dispiritedly in spite of Mr. Collins’s praise.

  “Thanks,” she said. “I guess I was feeling pretty enthusiastic when I wrote it.”

  “But you’re not feeling that way now?” He perched on the edge of her desk, his sky-blue eyes intent on hers. “You’re not thinking of giving up volunteering at the hospital, are you?”

  “No, I still love it.” She couldn’t meet his gaze. Could he tell that she’d been crying? “It’s just that—well, sometimes it can get to you.”

  “I know. I feel the same way about teaching sometimes.”

  Mr. Collins smiled warmly. He was by far the handsomest teacher in school, but that wasn’t what Elizabeth liked best about him. What mattered to her was that he was the easiest teacher to talk to. She’d gone to him more than once in difficult situations. He was always sympathetic, never judgmental. He led her toward discovering the wisest course of action rather than coming right out and telling her what to do.

  Elizabeth could feel herself on the verge of tears again. “It’s awful when someone is sick, really sick, and you know—”

  “Hey, Mr. Collins,” John Pfeifer interrupted, “you should check out these pictures of Monday’s game. They really came out well!” John, sports editor of The Oracle, waved a batch of prints under Mr. Collins’s nose.

  “Be with you in a minute, John,” he said. “Liz and I are going up to my office. Hold the fort until we get back, will you?” To Elizabeth he said, “There’s something I want to talk to you about. It’s probably better if we do it in private.”

  Elizabeth nodded glumly, following Mr. Collins to the door.

  “Take your time, Mr. Collins! I’ve got everything under control!” John called out, darting off in the direction of the light board. He nearly collided with Olivia Davidson, who was carrying a huge cardboard layout advertising an evening of one-act plays sponsored by the drama club.

  Mr. Collins removed a stack of papers from the seat of a chair in his cluttered office. He motioned for Elizabeth to sit.

  “I know how busy you are, Liz,” he began, “but I have a favor to ask. It’s about Max Dellon. I’m afraid he’s not going to pass the next English test without some help.”

  Elizabeth tried to put Tricia out of her mind and focus on what Mr. Collins was saying. Max Dellon was the lead guitarist for The Droids, Sweet Valley High’s resident rock band. Elizabeth knew that under Max’s tough-talking, arrogant image there was a serious, talented musician. He was a little mixed up, but basically a nice guy.

  “You’re my best student,” Mr. Collins went on. “I was hoping you could tutor Max. I’ve spoken with his parents about it, and they’re willing to pay you for your time.”

  “Sure, Mr. Collins, I’d be glad to help,” Elizabeth replied listlessly, her mind already drifting back to the conversation with Tricia.

  “You don’t seem very enthusiastic about it. Would you rather take a couple of days to think it over?” he asked kindly.

  “No, that’s OK. I—I guess I’m just not too enthusiastic about anything right now.”

  “So I see,” he noted, adding gently, “Do you want to tell me what’s bothering you, Liz?”

  Elizabeth nodded, pressing her lips together to keep from crying. It was all right, she told herself. She could tell Mr. Collins. He would understand. He would help her decide what to do.

  Suddenly the whole story came tumbling out—Steven and Tricia’s breakup, finding out about Tricia’s illness, the awful promise she’d made to the dying girl. Mr. Collins just listened quietly until she’d finished. Then he sighed deeply, folding his hands in front of him on the desk.

  “I see your dilemma,” he said.

  “How can I break my promise to Tricia?” Elizabeth asked, twisting her hands in her lap. “It’s her decision whether or not to tell Steve.”

  “That’s true,” Mr. Collins agreed. “But it’s an unwise decision, I think. I know she’s only trying to protect Steven, but she may end up hurting him even more this way.”

  “That’s exactly how I feel.”

  “Have you tried talking to her about it?”

  “I tried, but she’s made up her mind. She’s convinced it’s the best way, even though I know she can’t bear it. She really loves my brother, Mr. Collins. More than I ever realized.”

  “I’m sure she does, but Tricia’s love is blinding her to the truth. She can’t protect him from something like this. No one can.”

  “That’s what I told her, but she wouldn’t listen.” In a burst of passion, she cried out, “It’s not fair! Why did this have to happen? Tricia is one of the sweetest people I’ve ever known.”

  “Life can be very unfair sometimes,” Mr. Collins agreed sadly.

  Elizabeth was crying now, unable to control herself. “What am I going to do, Mr. Collins?” she said between sobs. “How can I break my promise to Tricia? She told me she’s counting on me to keep this a secret.” She put her head on Mr. Collins’s desk and let loose a torrent of tears.

  “Keeping your word is a good thing most of the time,” he said, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “But every so often we make a bad promise. Then it’s not right to keep it.”

  Elizabeth lifted her face to Mr. Collins. “How can I be sure it’s a bad promise? How do I know I wouldn’t be making a bigger mistake by telling Steve?”

  “What do your instincts tell you?” he asked softly.

  Elizabeth thought about it for a moment. Finally she said in a subdued voice, “I’m not sure why, but somehow I know what Tricia is doing is wrong. I think—no, I’m sure Steve would want to help her through this—this—” Her voice broke on a sob.

  “Trust your instincts,” Mr. Collins advised. “You have a good heart, Liz. Don’t be afraid to follow it.”

  Elizabeth’s sobs quieted, and she wiped her eyes dry. Then she looked up at her teacher and smiled thinly. “I think I know what I have to do now. Thanks, Mr. Collins.”

  It was painful. Decisions involving people’s feelings were never easy. But it had to be done. She had to tell Steven.

  Elizabeth was still sad when she left Mr. Collins’s office, but she felt stronger and more sure of herself than she had in days. She only hoped she wasn’t too late. Steven’s date with Cara was that night. She wanted to talk to him before then, but she had to work at the hospital after school that day and might not get home in time. Another date with Cara, another chance for her to strengthen her hold on Steven.

  * * *

  “You’ll never guess what happened!” Jessica hissed to Elizabeth when they bumped into each other in the hospital corridor. “Jeremy tol
d me to come and see him on my break. He wants to talk to me, and he says it’s important. What do you think it could be?”

  “Maybe he wants to offer you a million-dollar contract to be his co-host,” Elizabeth suggested.

  Jessica giggled. “Don’t be silly.” But the thought had crossed her mind as well. “He probably just wants to ask me out.”

  “I can just see the two of you at the disco,” said Elizabeth. “You’ll be pushing him around the dance floor in a wheelchair.”

  Jessica sniffed. “Just because you’re jealous, that’s no reason to make nasty jokes.”

  “Who says I’m jealous?”

  “It’s perfectly obvious from the way you’ve been acting lately. I’m surprised Todd hasn’t noticed.”

  Elizabeth was about to protest, but then she smiled, remembering the plan. “You’re right, Jess. I’m so jealous I can hardly stand it. You’re so lucky.”

  Jessica grinned. “It’s not luck,” she declared loftily. “The secret of success with men is knowing how to outfox them at their own game. Jeremy never had a chance.”

  Jessica hurried off in the direction of Jeremy’s room. Her heart was pounding in anticipation of their meeting. Finally it was about to happen. Jeremy was going to make his move. Before she knew it, he’d be inviting her to appear on his show.

  “Jessica, I thought you’d never get here!” Jeremy greeted her seductively. From his throne of pillows, he cast her a look that melted her insides.

  “I got here as fast as I could,” she said breathlessly. “I didn’t even stop to comb my hair. I must look awful.” She ran a hand over her hair, which of course was perfect, every silky strand in place.

  “Never mind, you look beautiful.” Jeremy extended a muscular arm. “Give me your hand.” Jessica floated over to his side as if hypnotized. Instantly her hand was engulfed by his. “Jessica, there’s something I have to tell you. I can’t keep it inside any longer. I know you’re only sixteen—”

  “Sixteen and a half,” Jessica corrected, nearly faint with wonder that this was happening to her. “And I’m very mature for my age.”

  “I know,” he said, “or else I wouldn’t have asked you to come here.”

  This was it! The big moment! He was going to ask her out. He probably had it all planned for when he got out of the hospital.

  “What did you want to see me about?” she breathed, fluttering her lashes at him.

  His fingers tightened around hers. “Somehow I just can’t seem to get you out of my mind. Even in my dreams I keep seeing your face.”

  Jessica’s eyes misted over. “Yes?”

  “You’re the girl I’ve been waiting for all my life.”

  “I am?”

  “Jessica, darling, will you marry me?”

  It was as if he’d just spilled a pitcher of ice water over her. Abruptly Jessica was jolted back to reality. “You’ve got to be kidding!”

  “I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

  Jessica yanked her hand free and started backing away. “But—but I’m only sixteen!”

  “A very mature sixteen,” he recalled her words. “Besides, why should age stand in the way of true love? Think of Romeo and Juliet.”

  Jessica was thoroughly panicked by now. “I can’t get married!” she squeaked. “I haven’t even finished high school!”

  “I can wait.”

  “Besides,” she blurted out, “I don’t love you!”

  He laughed. “Darling, you don’t have to pretend any longer! Do you think I’m blind? All your little excuses to come up to my room. Do you think I didn’t know what you were really after?”

  Jessica continued backing away. She banged into a chair, bruising her ankle, but she hardly noticed. “I—I never meant for it to turn out like this!”

  “It doesn’t matter anymore,” he murmured huskily. “All that counts is now. I know it’s sudden, but love is like that sometimes. It can hit you like a hurricane. Say it, Jessica. Say you’ll marry me, my darling.”

  Giving a tiny, frightened cry, Jessica turned and fled. Out in the corridor she smashed into a hospital cart, sending it skidding into a wall. She didn’t bother waiting for the elevator. She dashed down the stairs so quickly, she nearly fell.

  Jeremy was chuckling softly to himself when Elizabeth poked her head into his room a few minutes later. He didn’t say a word—he just gave her a thumbs-up sign.

  Twelve

  “Where’s Steve?” Elizabeth asked the minute she and Jessica got home.

  Mrs. Wakefield looked up from the blueprint that was spread out before her on the coffee table. She smiled, hooking a stray strand of honey-blond hair behind one ear.

  “I haven’t seen him,” she said. “How did it go at the hospital today?”

  “Fine,” Elizabeth said.

  “No comment,” said Jessica, and acting as if she were hypnotized, she drifted upstairs. She’d been in a kind of trance ever since they had left the hospital, only coming out of it long enough on the way home to tell Elizabeth the incredible news about Jeremy.

  “What’s the matter with your sister?” Mrs. Wakefield asked. “Did something happen at the hospital?”

  “You could say that.” Elizabeth confessed to her mother the trick she and Jeremy Frank had played on Jessica.

  Her mother laughed, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Poor Jess! Well, she’s probably gotten a real lesson out of all this, though I’m not sure what the lesson is. Honestly, the things you girls come up with! One thing about having twins—it never gets boring!”

  “With Jessica, life could never get boring,” Elizabeth agreed.

  She was hoping Steven would show up for dinner so she’d have a chance to talk with him alone, but he didn’t arrive until the family was sitting down to eat. In part, Elizabeth was relieved. She certainly wasn’t looking forward to telling him about Tricia. At the same time, she couldn’t stand the thought of his not knowing—and being angry at Tricia.

  “Where are you taking Cara tonight, Steve?” Jessica asked, as if she hadn’t already been filled in on every tiny detail. She and Cara had been talking about little else all week.

  “My dorm is having a party,” he said. He tried to smile, but a look of sadness still haunted his dark eyes. Elizabeth noticed it and winced.

  “Cara just loves parties,” Jessica said. “I’m sure you two will have a fantastic time.”

  “I intend to,” Steven said, his jaw set.

  “Isn’t Cara the sweetest?” she gushed. “Any guy would be lucky to get her. You’d better not let her out of your sight for long at that party, Steve. Somebody else might snatch her away. You wouldn’t want to lose her.”

  “No, I wouldn’t want to lose her,” Steven repeated softly, that faraway look in his eyes again.

  It was all Elizabeth could do to keep from leaping across the table and strangling her sister. Why didn’t Jessica just shut up about Cara? Poor Steven didn’t stand a chance. Elizabeth had to talk to him before it was too late. If only she could get a moment alone with him after dinner.

  But the chance never came. Steven excused himself almost as soon as he finished eating. “I promised Cara I’d pick her up by seven-thirty,” he said, snatching up his jacket as he headed for the door.

  “Have fun, Steve!” Jessica chirped.

  Elizabeth said nothing. She was fighting to keep from dissolving into tears. Was Steven going to lose himself in Cara’s relentless campaign to win him over?

  * * *

  The noise of the party thundered in Steven’s ears. Everywhere he looked people were laughing, having a good time. He felt as if he were set apart from it all, an invisible spectator. He tried hard to concentrate on what Cara was saying.

  “… and remember I told everyone at my party about my mom running into Mrs. Morrow? The Morrows are the one’s who’re moving into the Godfrey mansion. Anyway, their daughter, Regina, is having this big party next Saturday, to get to know some of the kids at school. She sent out invi
tations to our whole class, and she said we could bring dates. Of course, I immediately thought of you, Steve. If you’re not busy…”

  His mind drifted off again. That was the weekend he’d planned on taking Tricia to Secca Lake. The last time they’d been there, they had packed a picnic lunch and hiked up the stream that fed into the lake. There was a place they discovered, a rock pool shaded by ferns and sweet-smelling pine trees, where they could swim in private. They spent the day dipping into the ice-cold water and basking in the warm sunlight. They talked quietly, planning their future together. Then they had kissed, and the kissing seemed to go on forever, sweet and delicate like Tricia herself. He remembered the feel of her bare arms against his back, the way her hair smelled of pine needles.…

  “Steve, are you listening? Did you hear what I just said?” Cara’s strident voice broke into his thoughts.

  “Huh? Oh, sure, Cara, I was listening,” he lied.

  “Do you want to go to Regina Morrow’s party or not?”

  “I—I don’t know, Cara. I’ll have to check my schedule. I have an awful lot of studying to do. Can I let you know in a couple of days?”

  Cara pursed her glossy lips in disappointment. It was obvious she’d expected a more enthusiastic response. “Sure, I guess so.”

  Ted Foster, a boy Steven knew slightly, jostled his way toward them holding paper cups of punch, which he handed to Steve and Cara. “Hey, Steve! Long time no see. How’s it going?” He gave Cara a long once-over, smiling in appreciation. “Say, is this the girl you were bragging to me about? Wow, I can see why! No wonder you keep her so well hidden.”

  Cara giggled and stuck out her hand, her cheeks flushed with pleasure at the unexpected compliment. “Hi,” she said.

  “Nice to meet you,” Ted replied, shaking her hand. “Tricia, right? I never forget a name.”

  Cara flushed. “It’s Cara.”

  Now it was Ted’s turn to be embarrassed. “Uh, sure … Cara. Right. I got mixed up. Well, nice to meet you, Cara,” he amended before slipping off into the crowd.

  “Want to dance?” Steven asked in an attempt to smooth over the awkwardness of the moment.