All eyes focused on the slender boy, who cut a handsome figure dressed in a brand-new pair of red running shorts with the white high school tank top. It was quite a change from the ragged-looking figure who’d run that first race.
“I don’t know how he did it,” Lila said to one of her sorority friends, conveniently taking over once again as Roger’s self-appointed number-one fan. “But doesn’t he look great? You know, I bet he planned this whole ruse just to shock the other schools. Imagine coming up with that dumb story about a job and a mean boss.” She let out a laugh.
Elizabeth, overhearing the whole thing, was astonished at how conniving Lila could be when she put her mind to it.
“There’s still time to plan that party after all,” Lila said aloud. “After this race I’ll call my father and have him get our cook to whip up a few things. Oh, it’s going to be great!”
“Excuse me, Lila.” Elizabeth turned around. “I couldn’t help overhearing. You say the party’s on again?”
Lila struck a pose. “It was so heartless of me to plan to do something for the coach and then decide to drop it for a silly little reason. No one else is doing a tribute, so it’s left to me.”
“Gee, I hate to break this to you, Lila, but Coach Schultz isn’t leaving the school. All those rumors going around about him are false.”
“Oh, you’re just making that up, Liz. Can’t you see how tired the man looks? It’s obvious he’s sick.”
“Lila, what everyone around school has failed to notice recently is that the coach has always looked tired. Really, he’s in great shape. You’ll read all about it in next week’s Oracle.”
“Hmmph,” Lila snorted. “Well, I’ll have the party anyway. This time the party’s going to be in honor of Roger. A victory party.”
“What makes you so sure he’s going to win?” Elizabeth asked.
“Where’s your faith, Liz? Of course he is! That guy can do anything,” she said, her admiration of him back in full force. “Just look at that bod.” She sighed.
“A few days ago, you didn’t want to have anything to do with him.”
“Oh, that,” she said, nonchalantly, dismissing her abrupt rejection of him. “I’m sure Roger knows I didn’t mean anything by it—especially since he’s the one who forced the issue, coming up with that story about not being able to run. How else was I supposed to react?”
Elizabeth thought a moment before answering, then realized that Lila probably didn’t know any other way. “All I can tell you, Lila, is don’t be surprised if Roger decides not to show up.” She was going to say something about Olivia, but her attention was diverted to the track and the start of the second heat. Standing next to each other, Roger and Tony held up their joined arms in unity and wished each other luck.
Then they took their marks. Both boys sat comfortably back in the pack for the first part of the race, letting the top miler from Springbrook High set the pace. But by the two-thirds mark, Roger began to find the pace too slow and advanced into the lead himself, where he remained until he crossed the finish line. The big surprise of the race was Tony, who finished third and thus ensured that all three Sweet Valley qualifiers would be running in the final.
The crowd went wild. Jessica was convinced she’d lose her voice by the end of the afternoon but kept right on cheering anyway. Even Annie Whitman had managed to cheer her heart out in the bleachers, wishing all the time that she were down there with the squad.
Yet everyone had reserved a little extra for the final race, the most important one of all. The Sweet Valley High runners were lined up in lanes one, two, and three. In lane four was Joe Epson, the speedster from El Carro, who sneered derisively at Bruce, the boy who’d run him out of first place in the first heat.
“You’re not going to do it to me again, Mr. Big Shot,” the boy declared.
“You’re in for a big surprise, then,” Bruce shot back, “’cause that’s exactly what I intend to do.”
“That’s what you think,” Joe hissed.
“Listen, buddy, if I were you, I’d give a little thought to this guy over here, too,” he said, pointing to Roger.
“Oh, him.” Joe dismissed Roger with a snort. “There’s no way he could run that fast twice in one day. He’s probably burned himself out.”
Bruce just smiled. He found himself having come to a grudging admiration for Roger’s running, if not for Roger himself. He was still trying to get over the deception both Roger and the coach had pulled on him.
But there was no time to think about it. The final heat was about to begin. Bruce set his eyes on the track ahead of him and the glory that would be his when he stepped first across the finish line.
Roger, too, was focusing all his attention on the path ahead. He’d been able to catch everyone by surprise in the first heat, but now every runner on the track would be setting his sights on beating him. Did he have enough left inside to pull out another victory? he wondered.
The answer would be clear in less than five minutes. The starting gun went off, and from then on the pounding sound of feet was all Roger could concentrate on. Bruce was running with him stride for stride, apparently deciding that if he couldn’t beat him, he’d join him as long as he could. Tony was right up with them, running faster than he ever had in his life. Joe Epson was close behind, although leading them all was one of the runners from Springbrook.
The pace was very fast, faster than Roger was accustomed to and much faster than he desired. It was sapping his strength, and he wasn’t sure he could keep it up, let alone have enough left over for victory.
All he could do was try. Bearing down harder, he moved several steps ahead of Bruce. Tony, he realized, was already fading, as was the other runner from Springbrook High. Joe, the boy from El Carro, was right there alongside Bruce.
Then, out the corner of his eye, Roger noticed that something had happened. Bruce was no longer anywhere near him. Rumblings from the stadium made him aware that something had gone wrong. All he knew was that Joe Epson had moved up beside him, a smug sneer on his face.
About half a lap back, Bruce lay on the track, stinging from the fall he took when he was tripped. He was so far back now that he stood no chance of winning, but a gritty determination forced him to get up and continue racing. It was a move the crowd loved, as was evident from the huge cheer that went up as soon as Bruce picked up his pace.
Roger didn’t know why everyone was cheering, but the noise, coupled with the pressure he felt from Epson, spurred him on. Up ahead, the boy from Springbrook was slowing down a little; with luck, he was tiring. Roger felt it was time to make his move. Pushing harder, he willed himself forward and felt the wind blast a little stronger against his face. Soon he was neck and neck with the Springbrook boy and about to head into the lead.
But Joe was right with him. For half a lap the two vied for the lead. With the finish line approaching rapidly, there wasn’t time for fancy strategy. All Roger could do was run as fast as humanly possible. Using every ounce of energy and calling on a reserve he didn’t even know he had, he burst ahead and finished a good three or four strides in front of the other boy.
He ran off the track, winding down and then collapsing on the soft grass infield. It felt so good to stop, he’d momentarily forgotten what his accomplishment meant.
But plenty of others were ready to remind him. The first to come to him were his teammates Bruce and Tony, who lifted him high above the approaching crowd. They let him down only during the presentation of the trophy and the scholarship.
“I can’t think of a more deserving boy for this honor,” Coach Schultz said, handing him the certificate detailing the scholarship award. “Let’s all give a big hand to the boy of the hour, Roger Barrett.” The coach paused as everyone, even Sweet Valley’s rivals, gave Roger a standing ovation. When the fervor died down, the coach raised his hands in the air, indicating he wanted their attention again. “We have the official time for the race. Roger came in at three minutes, fifty-nine point eight seconds. A new
Bart record!”
Roger had had plenty to cry about during his life, but now, for the first time, he felt his eyes moisten with tears of joy. Without shame he continued to let the tears flow as he rode on the biggest high of his life.
Twelve
Roger was still standing at the winner’s podium as the crowd began filing slowly out of the stadium. While it was true that he was savoring his moment of glory as long as he could, he was also using the vantage point to try to find Olivia.
Unable to do so, he stepped off the platform and began walking toward the stadium bleachers. A large crowd of Sweet Valley faithfuls began to surround him.
“I knew you could do it, Roger.” The compliment came from Mr. Pendergast, who broke through the crowd to shake the boy’s hand. Roger was surprised he’d even come to the race. Maybe the guy had a soft spot after all. “Of course I expect to see you back at work on Monday.”
“Of course,” Roger grumbled. In an attempt to lose his boss in the crowd, he turned around—only to find himself eyeball to eyeball with Lila.
“Congratulations, Roger! I’m so proud of you.” She was looking at him in the same adoring fashion as after the qualifying race. “I always knew you’d win,” she gushed, making a great display of kissing him full and hard on the lips. “I never lost faith in you. Never.”
Roger wanted to ask her where her faith was when he’d confessed he couldn’t afford to run, but he saw no point in showing the crowd that she was lying. It didn’t matter anymore, anyway.
Lila continued to chatter away as she followed him across the infield. “I’ve taken the liberty of inviting some of my closest friends to a party in your honor,” she told him. “It starts at five. At my place. And don’t forget to bring your bathing suit. You might as well bring your clothes for the dance, too. There’s plenty of room to change.”
Roger stopped walking and looked at her with disgust. She was so sure of herself, so positively sure that there was nothing in the world he’d rather do than go to a stupid party at her pool. “Sorry, Lila. I can’t make it.”
Her jaw dropped. “What can you be doing that’s more important?” she asked indignantly.
“Frankly, it’s none of your business,” he said. The experiences of the past week had made him realize what kind of values were truly important to him. And they didn’t always come with big price tags. Lila wasn’t worth another instant of his time. “I’ll see you later.” He left her standing amid the other well-wishers.
Pulling himself away from the crowd, he headed toward the stadium stands. There, sitting alone, was Olivia. He took the small girl in his arms and twirled her in the air. “We did it!” he shouted, lowering her to give her a kiss.
“What do you mean, we?” she said. “That was you out there, running your heart out. How do you feel?”
“Never better,” he said. “And I couldn’t have done it all without you. I thought you knew that.”
“I do,” she said, grinning. “But I like to hear it anyway.”
“How come you weren’t out there?” he asked, pointing to the crowd on the infield.
“Crowds bother me. I was content to wait. My patience is unlimited,” she said.
“I hope you were patient enough not to have made plans for this evening. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather spend it with than you.”
“What about your fans?” she asked.
“They wouldn’t have cared a thing about me if I’d lost,” he said. “But I have a pretty good hunch you’d still have been sitting here waiting for me. Am I right?”
Shyly she nodded.
“I know it’s taken me a while, but I’ve finally come to realize who my true friends are.” He kissed her softly on the forehead. Then he flashed a wicked grin. “That was a kiss of friendship. Now I’ll show you the kiss I really want to give you.” Lowering his mouth over hers, he pressed firmly yet tenderly on her lips. She responded in kind, letting him know his affection was definitely not one-sided.
It didn’t go unnoticed. Elizabeth and Todd had been following Roger in an effort to congratulate him, but now they moved away discreetly. “Maybe we’ll see him at the dance,” Elizabeth said softly.
“I don’t know, Liz. The way those two are going at it, I wouldn’t be surprised if we found them still here on Monday morning.”
Elizabeth chuckled. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to catch up with Jessica and head home with her. I think she needs the company. See you tonight.”
Elizabeth found Jessica a few minutes later, walking casually toward the parking lot with Cara Walker. “Mind if I come along with you?” she asked.
“Liz, we were just talking about Roger and Olivia. I can’t believe that boy’s passing up Lila for her.” Jessica looked shocked. “Did you see them back there?”
“Yes, but I’ve known about them for a couple of days now. I knew Roger was running, too.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” Jessica sounded deeply hurt.
Cara punched her friend lightly on the shoulder. “Come on, Jess. Liz knows you’d have told the whole school. It would have spoiled everything.”
“Not you, too?” Jessica cried. But she wasn’t really hurt. “I’d have killed to have gotten a look at Lila’s face when she saw them,” Jessica went on. “But I couldn’t find her anyplace.”
“She’s probably recovering in private,” Elizabeth said. “By tonight I’m sure she’ll be calling him Bugs again and putting him down.”
“But the rest of us won’t be laughing anymore,” Jessica said. “He’s not such a bad guy when you get right down to it—though I’d never want to go out with him.” She giggled.
“It’s good to see you smiling,” Elizabeth said, “after what happened last night.”
Cara cut her off. “Jess, didn’t you tell Liz about Kevin?”
“Kevin who?” Elizabeth asked.
“My date for the dance tonight,” Jessica said casually. “During the break between races, one of the Springbrook cheerleaders—Kevin Borden—came over to compliment me on a cheer. Well, one thing led to another, and—”
“And he asked you out,” Elizabeth finished her sister’s sentence. “Somehow I knew it wouldn’t take you long to get over Dennis.”
“Dennis who?” Jessica said with another giggle.
“Jessica! There you are!” Annie Whitman tugged at Jessica’s uniform and practically had to stand in front of her to get her to stop. “I tried to get your attention earlier, but I guess you couldn’t hear me with all that noise.”
“I guess not,” Jessica said, annoyed that she hadn’t been totally successful in avoiding the sexy sophomore. She continued to walk, and Annie had no choice but to walk with her.
“You look busy, so I won’t keep you,” Annie said. “I just want to let you know I’m free to try out for the cheerleading squad.”
“According to the school rules everyone is,” Jessica had to admit. Even easy girls like you, she almost added.
“Not if you’re flunking. I was in trouble with two of my classes but not anymore. Are there going to be practice sessions before the tryouts?”
Jessica sighed. “Yes, Annie. The details will be in the next issue of The Oracle.” How do I get rid of this girl? she wondered.
“Great. I know all the cheers by heart, but there are a couple of steps I’m a little unsure of.” She moved ahead of the twins and Cara. “Like I said, I don’t want to keep you. See you at tryouts.” Waving goodbye, she walked off toward the bus stop.
“Good luck, Annie,” Elizabeth called after her.
“Why’d you say that?” Jessica asked her sister.
“I like to see hard work rewarded,” she answered. “It paid off for Roger today. It’d be nice if the same thing happened to Annie.”
“Why?” Jessica said angrily. “So she could use her cheerleading uniform as an added lure for the boys?”
“Annie’s not like that,” Elizabeth said.
Jessica snorted. “Where have you been,
big sister? On Jupiter? That girl’s got to hold the school record for most dates! If ‘date’ is the right word for what Annie does.”
“I didn’t know you were keeping track,” Elizabeth noted.
“I keep my eye on every girl who expresses an interest in joining the squad,” Jessica said. “Every single cheerleader is a public representative of our school, and it’s my job to make sure they’re deserving of the honor.”
“And you think Annie’s not deserving?” Elizabeth asked.
“Think, nothing! I know that girl is just a whole lot of bad news,” Jessica declared.
Elizabeth shook her head. It was clear that Annie was going to have trouble with her sister. “But if she knows all the cheers and does them well, you’ve got to take her, don’t you?”
Jessica stopped and put her hands on her hips. “Liz, I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do. But I’m willing to bet anything she chickens out when it comes time for tryouts.” Jessica chuckled. “At least she should if she knows what’s good for her.”
Annie was really in for it, Elizabeth fretted, recognizing that hard tone in Jessica’s voice. She’d sneaked around the rules once to deny membership in her sorority to a girl she didn’t like, so it wouldn’t be surprising if she did something similar to Annie when it came to the cheerleading squad. Elizabeth saw nothing but trouble ahead for the shapely, unsuspecting Annie Whitman. Big trouble.
What trouble is in store for Annie? Find out in Sweet Valley High #10, WRONG KIND OF GIRL.
Also by Francine Pascal
SERIES
Sweet Valley High
Sweet Valley Twins
Sweet Valley Kids
Fearless
NOVELS
Save Johanna
If Wishes Were Horses (La Villa)
My First Love and Other Disasters
Hanging Out with Cici
NON-FICTION
The Strange Case of Patty Hearst
RACING HEARTS. Copyright 1984 by Francine Pascal. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
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