A short while later Elizabeth became aware of a knocking sound. At first it was so timid that she thought it was a tree limb banging softly against the side of the house. But the knock became more persistent, and Elizabeth realized someone was at the front door. Reluctantly she put aside her notebook to answer it. On the other side of the threshold stood Robin Wilson.

"Hi, Liz, is Jessica here?" she asked.

"No," said Elizabeth. "She's at cheerleading practice. But I expect her back soon. Tonight's her night to make dinner."

Robin looked confused. "I checked at cheerleading practice. She wasn't there. We were going to spend the afternoon together, but she never showed up. Gee, I wonder where she could be."

"I think I know," Elizabeth said, realizing she'd better start thinking about what she'd like to make for dinner. "I'll bet anything she's out with Bruce Patman."

"Oh." Robin lowered her head, trying to hide her disappointment.

You've done it again, Jessica, Elizabeth thought. Although Elizabeth didn't know Robin that well, she felt sorry for the pudgy girl standing before her. All she wanted was to be Jessica's friend, even though all Jessica seemed to want was to take advantage of Robin's good nature. Elizabeth decided to put her story on hold and invite Robin inside.

"I'm sorry Jessica's not here," she said once they were seated. "You should tell her she can't just change plans on you like this."

"Oh, that's OK," Robin said quickly. "I'm sure she didn't mean it. I know I'd probably forget to meet a girlfriend if Bruce Patman asked me out-although the chances of that are less than zero." Flashing an embarrassed grin, she pointed to her ample midsection. "But it doesn't bother me. Jessica thinks I've already got a guy. At least that's what she tells me. That's why we were getting together today. To buy me some new clothes. Then we were coming back here to do experiments."

"For chemistry class?"

"No, to see if we could make my face sexier through science." She smiled, then sighed wistfully. "I guess it'll just have to wait till tomorrow."

Elizabeth was sure Jessica wouldn't pay any attention to Robin as long as Bruce was in the picture, but curiosity about the new boy in Robin's life overshadowed any inclination she might have had to express her doubt.

"You don't have to tell me," she began, "but who's the guy with the crush on you?"

Robin blushed as she whispered, "Winston Egbert."

"You're kidding!" Elizabeth exclaimed. She couldn't believe Winston had recovered so quickly from his heartbreak over Jessica. After all, he'd been crazy about her ever since fifth grade.

"Believe me, I understand your surprise," Robin said, grinning. "I couldn't believe it myself when Jessica told me he'd had a thing for me ever since I came to Sweet Valley. Imagine, a popular guy like Winston wanting a girl like me. He took me to Ken's party last Saturday, and we had a great time. At least I did," she added hastily.

Elizabeth was dumbstruck. "Yeah, I saw you together," she managed to say, trying to hide her shock at Jessica's latest little bit of manipulation. She was convinced Jessica had put Robin and Winston together to get them both out of her hair at the same time. Elizabeth also felt that Robin deserved to know the truth instead of being duped into believing a fantasy of Jessica's creation. "Robin, it's hard to tell you this, but Win's been interested in my sister for quite some time. I don't know if he's really ready to get involved with someone else."

A momentary look of concern crossed Robin's face as Elizabeth spoke, but it was followed quickly by a sigh of relief. "Don't worry, Liz, I know all about Jessica and Winston. She told me there was never anything much to it. They're just friends."

Elizabeth shook her head slightly. "I don't think you heard what I said. It's possible that Win isn't ready for you-or for that matter, anybody."

"But Jessica told me-"

"She's not right all the time. Look, I'm sure Win thinks you're nice. I just don't want you to get your hopes up. I know Winston's really hung up on Jess. The last thing you want is a boy on the rebound."

"No," Robin hedged. "You're wrong, Liz."

"You mean you think he's definitely over Jess?" Elizabeth asked.

"No," said Robin, smiling. "I mean I'd definitely take him on the rebound." They both laughed.

"In that case, I hope I'm wrong for your sake," Elizabeth said. She was beginning to like Robin. "By the way, got any plans for Saturday night?"

"Not yet."

"Well, if nothing comes up, why don't you join Todd and me? We're going to a club down in Sand Pines to see The Droids."

"I don't know. I don't want to tag along on your date."

"It's not an actual 'date' date. I'm writing an article for The Oracle on The Droids, so it's more like an assignment for me. I think it might be a good place for you to meet some guys. You don't have to give me an answer now, but promise me you'll consider it, OK?"

Robin thought a moment before answering. "OK," she said. Then she got up and headed for the door. "I'd better be getting home now. You'll tell Jessica I stopped by, won't you?"

"Don't worry," Elizabeth said with a gleam in her eye. "You can be sure I'll tell her."

Elizabeth was taking that night's dinner of roast chicken out of the oven when Jessica showed up. Following the aroma into the kitchen, Jessica purred, "Umm, something smells good."

"I gather you're going to grace us with your presence tonight?"

"Of course. I live here. Oh, and thanks for making dinner tonight. I promise I'll make it up to you sometime."

"With you, 'sometime' could be around the year 2000. I won't hold my breath," Elizabeth retorted.

"Look, I'm really sorry I was late. I ... um ... had something important to do."

"I know. Something called Bruce Patman."

Jessica looked genuinely surprised. "You and your intuition."

"Actually, Robin stopped by earlier. She said you and she were supposed to get together this afternoon."

"Was that today?" Jessica feigned forgetfulness. "I must have mixed up the dates."

"You really disappointed her," Elizabeth chided.

"She'll get over it." Jessica shrugged, unconcerned. "It was just a trip to the mall."

"I have a feeling it was more than 'just a trip' to her. The least you could have done was told her you couldn't make it."

"Oh, she'll understand. We can do her makeover anytime-though I do admit, the sooner the better. Honestly, Liz, I simply forgot. Bruce came up to me right after the last bell and took me for a ride up Valley Crest Highway. It was fantastic."

"How fantastic can a ride on the highway be, Jessica?" Elizabeth asked with distaste.

"We talked about what great times we're going to have together." Jessica's face took on that faraway, dreamy look that came over her whenever the subject turned to Bruce.

"What kind of 'great times'?" Elizabeth pressed.

"Oh, for starters, right after I grab a bite I'm going over to Bruce's to show him he's not the only good tennis player in Sweet Valley. Don't wait up for me, either. It'll probably be a late night."

"Gee, Jess, I thought you'd be around tonight to go over our notes for tomorrow's chemistry test."

"You still worried about that?"

"Aren't you? You're barely getting by as it is."

"But I always pull through, don't I?"

A half hour later Jessica stood on the Patmans' tennis court. Cut into the hill right below the stately Patman mansion, the court overlooked Sweet Valley, and Jessica could see her own house near the bottom of the slope. Swinging her racket lightly, she turned to Bruce as he approached from the house. "I love it up here. The view is gorgeous."

Bruce's eyes were focused on Jessica's legs, long and tanned beneath her short tennis whites. "I like the view, too," he told her. "Ready to play?"

"Let's volley first."

Bruce opened a can of balls and bounced one in the air with his racket. "I can't think of a better way to spend the evening."

"Me, either-though my sister thinks I should be studying."

"Doesn't she believe in having fun?"

"Oh, she's worried about this big test we're having tomorrow. But what she doesn't know is that I have a secret weapon."

"What's that, baby?"

"Not what. Who. Emily Mayer. She sits next to me, and she's practically Albert Einstein at chemistry. And her handwriting is neat-and large, if you get my point."

Bruce winked knowingly, then positioned himself at the far end of the court. "I think it's time I got your mind off chemistry," he said, getting ready to serve. "Here goes."

He smashed the ball into Jessica's court, using the same competitive, game-strength force he would have with any opponent. Jessica returned the serve with a clean, hard backhand down the line-much to Bruce's surprise. He was not amused. "Hey, what's the idea?" he grumbled.

"Just brushing up on my game, Bruce," Jessica said, pleased with her shot. Bruce was a very strong player, but she was confident she could hold her own against him.

She couldn't hear what Bruce muttered under his breath, but she could see that the smile was now gone from his face. Again he smashed the ball across the court-and again Jessica's natural reaction was to hit it back. Perfectly.

"Who do you think you are, Chris Evert Lloyd?" Bruce yelled across the net. It was clear he didn't mean it as a compliment. "Your serve." Angrily he threw her a ball.

Jessica bounced the ball a few times. She didn't like the way Bruce was glaring at her, as if she'd committed a cardinal sin by playing her best. Obviously he didn't like to lose.

Neither did she, but the more she considered the anger in Bruce's icy blue eyes, the more she began to reconsider her options. She was clearly on top of her game this evening, but maybe that wasn't such a good thing. Bruce didn't appear to appreciate her skill, and it was obvious he would be angry at her if she ended up winning. Carrying that logic one step further, she concluded he'd probably decide not to play with her anymore. He might even decide she was too aggressive off the court as well and dump her altogether.

That was a possibility Jessica couldn't bear. So she did the only thing she could to protect herself. For the first time in her life, she actually tried to lose at something.

During the rest of the match, she handled her racket as if she'd developed a sudden case of tennis elbow. Bruce won the set easily, 6-love.

Jessica got the first clue that she'd played it the right way when Bruce jumped the net after the set was over. Smiling now, he dropped his racket and wrapped her in a big bear hug. "To the victor go the spoils," he announced with pleasure, "and I'm taking my reward right now." Lowering his head, he kissed her hard on the lips, sending a thrilling shiver down her spine.

He really loves me, Jessica thought wildly, enjoying the comforting sensation of being enveloped in his arms. And if it makes him happy to have a girl who wants what he wants, then that's the kind of girl I'll be.

In Max Dellon's basement, near the Sweet Valley shopping district on the other side of town, Emily Mayer sat fretfully over her drum set. She was trying to work out the beat to the new song Guy Chesney had written for that weekend. Guy was clearly annoyed at his drummer. "What's your problem, Mayer?"

Emily pounded her bass drum in frustration. "Give me a break, Guy. You just handed me this sheet an hour ago. I'm doing the best I can."

"That may not be good enough."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dana Larson cut in. "The girl said she's trying her best."

"Look, Dana," Guy snapped, directing his comments to the attractive lead singer. "We're getting a shot at the big time now. Saturday night's our first chance to prove ourselves, and we can't afford to make any mistakes. If Emily can't cut it, maybe we should find a new drummer."

"Maybe what we need is a new keyboard player," Dana countered pointedly. "Jeez, Guy, who do you think you are, talking like that? We're a group. We stick together. All of us."

Max looked up from his guitar and shook his head. "You guys are something." He chuckled. "Getting all worked up over some two-bit gig. What's the big deal?"

"If you don't know, maybe we'd better think about replacing you, too," Guy snarled.

"Hey, lighten up," Max drawled. "We've never had any hassles like this before."

"All we've played are school dances and parties," Guy pointed out. "Small-time stuff. When we go on on Saturday night, we've got to be cooking. And we won't unless certain people in this band get their act together!" He shot another warning look at Emily.

"I'm working on it, Guy," Emily said through clenched teeth.

Dana had heard enough. "Look, Guy, I know you're under a lot of pressure to make this work. But there's no need to get so upset. We're all under pressure. Apologize to Emily and tell her you didn't mean what you said."

"Yeah," added Dan Scott, the bass guitar player, "we don't have all night."

Guy scratched his neck and thought for a long time. "I guess Dana's right, Emily," he said finally. "I'm letting this gig get to me. Sorry I jumped all over you. Friends?"

"Friends," she answered weakly, forcing a smile. "Let's try it again from the top, OK?"

"You heard the girl," Guy addressed the rest of the group. "Let's hit it. One, two, three, four!"

All tension faded as the music took over. Each run-through sounded better than the last, and soon even Guy was happy with their progress. By the end of the night, he was convinced they'd bring down the house that weekend.

But Emily didn't forget his earlier warning, though she secretly believed his frustration and anger were caused more by his unreturned affection for Dana than anything to do with the band. He'd never said as much to Emily, but she was sure she hadn't misread the look on Guy's face every time the group's singer smiled at him. Whatever the source of Guy's problems, though, Emily was anxious not to push her luck. After the group decided to call it a night, she went home and practiced every song in The Droids' repertoire.

It was only as she was getting undressed for bed that she remembered Russo's test. Slipping under the covers, an exhausted Emily opened her chemistry book. But ten minutes later, the lights still on and the textbook uselessly on the floor where it had fallen, she was sound asleep.

Six.

"I don't believe it. I just don't believe it!" Jessica wiped a hand across her tear-streaked face, then threw herself into Bruce's arms. It was lunchtime on Friday, and the couple was sitting under one of the many white oak trees that graced the Sweet Valley High campus.

Bruce couldn't imagine what had happened, but he liked playing the role of Jessica's savior. Sure that he knew exactly what she really wanted, he began to caress and stroke her back gently. Nibbling at her ear, he whispered, "Hey, I'm not going to let anything upset my baby. What's wrong, Jess?"