Jessica pouted. "I'm not so little."

"So I'm beginning to see."

No you don't see! she raged inwardly. None of her strategies were working. She'd tried the subtle approach. Zero. She'd tried the friendly, interested approach. Ditto. Today, when they were on top of the Empire State Building, she'd clung to him, pretending to be deathly afraid of heights. He'd simply patted her hand and led her back to the elevator as if she'd been a child. Talk about humiliation!

It was getting dark and chilly. The ride didn't seem that much fun anymore. Actually, she was starting to feel a little sick to her stomach. Why was Pete torturing her this way?

By the time they arrived back at the Devlins' apartment, Jessica was on the verge of tears. She didn't care what she looked like anymore. She didn't even care how she acted. He was treating her as if she were invisible anyway, so what difference did it make?

Pete rode up with her in the elevator-she assumed it was because he wanted to see the Devlins. But no one was home when they got there. It figured. Jessica had spent the better part of her vacation alone in this apartment, after the disaster at Evelyn's. One exception was the dinner party Mrs. Devlin had given supposedly in Jessica's honor. The only other teenager was a dorky thirteen-year-old girl named Martha who wouldn't talk about anything but her horse and the summer she'd spent at a camp for overweight kids. The rest of the people acted as if Jessica hardly existed. Where were all the rich, exciting men who were supposed to be falling all over her? Certainly Pete wasn't one of them!

"Do you want a drink?" Pete now asked. "I'm having one."

"I don't think Mrs. Devlin-"

"Oh, Felicia won't mind. I know where she keeps the key to the liquor cabinet."

Jessica shrugged. What did it matter at this point? She didn't protest when he handed her a glass of brandy. She took a gulp, nearly choking as the fiery liquid burned its way down her throat. When Pete switched off the lights a few minutes later, she hardly noticed.

Suddenly he was beside her in the darkness. His breath was hot against her face. Then he was kissing her! He was actually kissing her! Jessica could barely believe that she wasn't dreaming. She responded eagerly at first, but it quickly became apparent that Pete had much more in mind than kissing.

What was going on? Nothing could have prepared her for the way he was acting after all the indifference he'd shown her up until now. He'd always been so cool, so controlled, so remote. Now he was acting out of control. His mouth was pressed against hers with an insistence that was frightening. One hand was sliding up over her knee while the other inched up past her rib cage with equal determination. Jessica began to feel panicky.

She twisted away. "No!"

He wouldn't listen. Pressing her back on the couch, his arms tightened around her while his mouth moved down over her throat. She struggled to sit up but found she couldn't move. She was firmly pinned beneath him.

"Pete!" she gasped. "Stop it this minute! I mean it!"

Pete only squeezed more tightly. "You're getting what you asked for, Jessica. Don't tell me this isn't what you wanted. You've been practically begging for it since the day I met you."

"I-I-I don't know what you're talking about!" Jessica sputtered in outrage. Though they were both fully clothed, she somehow felt as though she were being stripped bare.

"I think you know very well what I'm talking about, not-so-little Jessica."

She felt as if she were being crushed. She could hardly breathe. She wanted to scream, but she couldn't get enough air into her lungs. Pete lay on top of her, his moist lips devouring her neck.

"Help!" she managed to get out.

"Grow up," he growled. "What kind of a game did you think this was? You're not playing in the sandbox anymore. This is the real world."

"I-I never wanted this. I only wanted-well..."

He uttered a harsh laugh as his lips sought out her mouth once more. "Little matches start big fires. Didn't your mother ever warn you about playing with matches?"

Jessica was both scared and angry. What had she done to deserve this? She was mad at Pete, mad at the Devlins for getting her into this-she was even mad at her sister. Elizabeth had been so quick to want to switch places with her. She probably knew how it was going to turn out and had only pretended to want to go in the first place in order to make it sound like fun.

Jessica shoved against Pete with all her strength, managing to wriggle out from underneath him. She rolled off the couch, banging her head against the coffee table.

She glared at Pete. "If you don't get out of here, I'm going to call the police!"

"And tell them what? That I attacked you after you invited me up to an empty apartment? That you practically begged me to kiss you, then changed your mind at the last minute? Get off it, Jessica. Who's going to believe you?"

"You're the most awful person I've ever met!" she said, standing up and looking at him defiantly.

Pete was laughing. Jessica got the horrible feeling he'd planned it this way. Just to humiliate her.

"I know about girls like you," he went on. "You think it's a game. You like to tease, then the minute anyone takes you seriously, you act so innocent and pure. Well, Miss Innocence, do you still feel like kissing, or is the audition over?"

"I hate you," Jessica choked out. "I never want to see you again! You're the meanest person on earth!"

He didn't look like Prince Charming anymore, she thought. In the shadowy dimness, he looked evil and mean. How could she ever have thought he was handsome?

"Don't worry, I'm on my way," he assured her. "But I wouldn't dream of leaving you without the good-night kiss you deserve."

As he lunged for her, she tried to move out of his way but banged into the coffee table. There was a tremendous crash as a brandy glass shattered on the parquet floor. The sharp scent of alcohol stung her nostrils. She was wrestling with Pete when suddenly the lights came on in a blaze.

Jessica looked up at the horrified expressions on the faces of Mr. and Mrs. Devlin as they stood frozen in the doorway.

Eleven.

"Suzy! What on earth happened? You look awful!"

Elizabeth, who had just gotten home and had been getting ready for bed, stared at her friend in shocked dismay. Suzanne was trembling as she sank down on Elizabeth's bed. Her blouse was torn, her hair a mess. There were smudges of mascara under her eyes, which were red and swollen from weeping.

Suzanne covered her face with her hands. "Oh, Liz, it was so awful! It was like a nightmare!"

"What was like a nightmare?"

"I can't tell you," came her muffled reply. "I'm too ashamed."

"Suzy, you've got to tell me what happened!"

"He-Mr. Collins-he tried to-" Suzanne broke off in a fresh torrent of sobs. When she finally looked up, her expression was one of utter misery and despair. "Oh, what's the use? No one's ever going to believe it!"

"I'll believe you," Elizabeth reassured her.

"Promise?" Tears continued to stream down Suzanne's cheeks.

"Of course I promise! Now tell me, please, what is going on?"

In a ragged whisper, Suzanne confessed. "Mr. Collins tried to-I mean he.... Oh, I can't say it."

"Mr. Collins?" Elizabeth cried in horror. "Oh, Suzanne, no! There's got to be some mistake. Mr. Collins would never do anything like that!"

"You see? I knew you wouldn't believe it. I could hardly believe it myself." She gave a deep, shuddery sigh. "He seemed so nice at first."

Elizabeth felt sick. There was a funny taste in her mouth, and a strange throbbing had started up in the pit of her stomach. Suzanne was right. She didn't want to believe it. Not about Mr. Collins, of all people. He was more than just her favorite teacher, he was also her friend.

Tears filled Elizabeth's eyes. "Tell me everything," she said grimly.

In a low, hesitant voice punctuated by occasional hiccups, Suzanne told the story. "He seemed different when he came home," she said. "Like maybe he'd been drinking. Only he wasn't acting really drunk, just, well ... friendlier somehow. He asked me if I wanted some wine, and when I told him I was too young to drink, he said-he said I seemed pretty grown-up to him. Then the next thing I knew he was kissing me-and trying to unbutton my blouse. I was so scared. I didn't know what to do. I ended up running all the way over here."

Elizabeth was so stunned she could hardly think straight. "It just doesn't sound like Mr. Collins. I've never known him to act that way."

"You don't believe me?"

"It's not that I don't believe you...." Elizabeth was confused. "It's just that-well, couldn't you have been mistaken?"

Suzanne shook her head. "No. It was no mistake. Look, he even tore my blouse when I was trying to get away."

Elizabeth thought of all the times she'd gone to Mr. Collins when she was in trouble or needed advice, all the times he'd helped her. He always knew how to lead her to the right decision without actually telling her what to do. He was almost like a big brother or a favorite uncle in so many ways. Hearing Suzanne's story was like having a nightmare. The worst kind of nightmare-the kind a person couldn't wake up from.

"We have to tell someone," she said. "My parents. They'll know what to do."

Suzanne grew panicky. She clutched Elizabeth's arm. "What if they think it's all my fault? That I led him on? That's what he'll say."

Elizabeth hugged Suzanne. "How could they think anything so terrible about you? You're the sweetest person in the whole world! My parents know what you're like."

Suzanne clung to Elizabeth as if she were drowning. "I'm so scared, Liz! Nothing like this has ever happened to me. If Pete knew, he'd be so upset. He'd probably kill Mr. Collins."

Tears were streaming down Elizabeth's cheeks. Her own image of Mr. Collins kept bumping up against the one Suzanne had painted of him. It was like trying to put together one jigsaw puzzle with pieces from another. Part of her still didn't want to believe it was true. How could Mr. Collins be capable of such a hideous thing? But the evidence was all there-Suzanne's hysteria, the torn blouse....

As Elizabeth went down the hall to wake her parents, she could hardly stand up. Her knees felt weak and trembly. She knew that as soon as this got out, it would cost Mr. Collins his job, maybe even ruin his life. A tiny nagging voice inside her asked, What if it isn't true?

But how could she doubt that dear, sweet Suzanne was telling the truth?

Twelve.

"I still can't believe it." Todd shook his head as he started his car. "Mr. Collins just doesn't seem the type to go around attacking innocent girls. It doesn't make sense."

"I know," Elizabeth said miserably, shifting around in the passenger seat so she was facing him. "It's exactly how I feel, too. But I guess we just have to accept it."

The last two days-since the scandal about Mr. Collins had broken over Sweet Valley like a tidal wave-seemed like the longest of Elizabeth's life. She couldn't sleep, and her stomach was one gigantic knot.

It began with her father going to see Mr. Cooper, the principal, who quickly notified the members of the school board. After that the news spread like wildfire. Practically everybody in Sweet Valley was buzzing about what Mr. Collins had done to Suzanne. It was the scandal of the century, thought Elizabeth. Even worse than the time everyone had thought Ms. Dalton, her French teacher, was having an affair with Ken Matthews. At least then it had only been rumor. This was fact. There was going to be an inquiry, but that was just a formality. The truth was, things looked pretty grim for Mr. Collins.

The part Elizabeth hated the most was that so many people actually seemed glad about it. Mr. Collins had always been popular with the students, but some parents viewed his teaching methods as too liberal. Now they were happy to have a good excuse to get rid of him.

Elizabeth was among those who would be sorry to see him go. Even knowing he'd done a terrible thing, she couldn't bring herself to hate him. In fact, every time she thought about his leaving, she felt sick. She was glad Todd felt the same way. At least she wasn't the only one who was torn.

"What's Mr. Collins got to say about all this?" Todd wanted to know. "Has anyone asked him?"

"Dad talked to him the night it happened. According to him, Mr. Collins seemed pretty upset. But he said he wasn't going to go around publicly denying it because people were still going to believe what they wanted even though it wasn't true."

"Sounds like something Mr. Collins would say."

They were on their way over to Cara's to meet some of the other kids from school and pool their resources for Lila's birthday present. Elizabeth wasn't thrilled over the prospect of going to Lila's party that evening, but she supposed there was no getting out of it without appearing rude. Besides, Suzanne had agreed to go with Aaron Dallas, and the two couples were planning on spending some time together at the party. After the ordeal Suzanne had been through, Elizabeth wanted her last night in Sweet Valley to be fun.

Todd suddenly smacked the steering wheel with the heel of his hand. "What if Mr. Collins is telling the truth? What if Suzy imagined the whole thing?"

"I wish it were true," Elizabeth said. "But, Todd, you didn't see her. She was so upset she could hardly talk. I practically had to pry the story out of her. Besides, why would anyone make up an awful thing like that?"

"You're right." Todd made a left turn onto Cara's street. "It would be crazy to want to get a nice guy like Mr. Collins fired for no reason."

The group that was gathered on Cara's back patio was divided into two factions: the get-Mr. Collins-fired bunch versus the ones who were loyal to him, no matter what.

"I don't care what anyone says," spoke frizzy-haired Olivia Davidson, her blue eyes flashing with indignation. "I don't believe Mr. Collins would do something like that."

Olivia worked on the paper, too, and was devoted to the handsome young faculty adviser. She shared his liberal views and hated injustice just as much as he did.

"Well, I believe it," said Cara, who was passing out sodas. "I've always thought he was the lecherous type. I've caught him looking at me more than once. Besides, he gave me a D on my last English essay."

Todd and Elizabeth exchanged looks. Cara was one of the biggest gossips in school, as well as being Jessica's best friend. She was probably responsible for the rumor spreading as quickly as it had.

Perhaps recalling his own experience at being the center of rumors, Ken spoke up in Mr. Collins's defense. "Aw c'mon, Cara, you think every guy is looking at you. Anyway, if Mr. C was so hot for you, why'd he give you a D?"

Cara glared at him, but she had no real comeback. Elizabeth couldn't suppress a tiny smile. It wasn't often that Cara was struck speechless.

"I don't think someone should be hanged before all the evidence is heard," said John Pfeifer, sports editor for The Oracle. "I'm not saying he didn't do it. I'm just saying we should hear his side, too."

"I'm with John," Enid agreed. She, too, had suffered at the hands of gossips once upon a time when an ugly episode from her past was exposed by Jessica.

"Not me. The whole thing is just too disgusting for words," Caroline Pearce pronounced, giving her carrot-red hair a prim toss. "I mean, to think a maniac has been on the loose at Sweet Valley High all this time and no one even suspected!"

Tom McKay snickered. Obviously the idea of Mr. Collins as a maniac struck him as funny.

"I don't think it's a laughing matter," said Winston, shooting Tom a black look. Everyone turned to stare at him. Winston hardly ever stopped kidding around; so on the rare occasions when he got serious, people took notice. "Poor Suzy! Think of how she must have felt. Wow, I wish I'd been there to protect her!"

"Yeah, Mr. Collins would've died laughing," Cara whispered to Caroline.

Elizabeth couldn't help feeling sorry for Winston. Except for a few short, happy months with Mandy Farmer, he was always falling in love with girls who were unattainable.

"Well, whatever happened, it must have been horrible for sure," said John Pfeifer.