Jessica pulled away just enough to look directly into Bruce's concerned blue eyes. "That idiot Mr. Russo had the nerve to give me an F on my chemistry test," she cried.

Bruce stroked her cheeks tenderly. "No more tears, babe. It's only a dumb test."

"It's more than that. You don't understand, Bruce. I was just getting by before this, and now I might fail the whole semester!"

"Calm down, Jess. Maybe this will help." Bruce gave her a deep, lingering kiss.

"That was nice, Bruce," Jessica said when they parted. "Unfortunately it doesn't solve my problem."

"But there's a solution to every problem. Tell me what happened."

"Remember my secret weapon, Emily Mayer? She let me down. This time she failed the test, too."

"So next time cheat off someone else's paper."

"I have a feeling if I switch seats now, Russo will get suspicious." Jessica anxiously picked at the grass by her side. "Bruce, what am I going to do?"

He clasped her hands in his. "First of all, you've got to see that flunking chemistry isn't the end of the world. What are you ever going to use it for, anyway?"

"I haven't the foggiest idea. But if I flunk, I'm off the cheerleading squad. And that I care about."

"A bunch of silly-looking girls jumping up and down and yelling in front of a lot of people?" Bruce patted Jessica's head as if she were a little girl. "You care about the strangest things."

Jessica didn't like his tone, but she didn't want to risk upsetting him by making an issue of it. So she quickly switched gears, pretending she didn't care about the squad. "Well, I have to admit it's been getting a little boring lately. And I did miss a few practices this week. But even so, it would be humiliating to be kicked off the squad."

"Well, you've come to the right person," Bruce declared.

Jessica looked up at him with hope. She knew Bruce would come to her rescue. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"I should have told you the other night that you shouldn't count on unreliable people like Emily. I've got a foolproof way for you to get an A in chemistry."

"Bruce!" Jessica's eyes widened expectantly. "Tell me!"

Taking his time, enjoying the suspense, Bruce stretched out his legs and leaned against the oak. "It's simple." He smiled confidently. "I know where Russo keeps his tests."

Jessica threw her arms around Bruce's neck. "And you'll get them for me!"

Bruce pulled back abruptly, willing to play the hero only to a point. "No way. My days of messing with that man are over. But I'll tell you how to get them without being caught."

Jessica bit her lower lip. She would have preferred it if Bruce simply handed her the tests, but she was in no position to argue. "Sure, Bruce. Tell me where they are."

"Later," he whispered, moving closer. "First we've got to take care of business." Bruce wrapped his arms around Jessica, and together they fell onto the soft grass, exchanging kisses with a frantic urgency.

On the other side of the campus, Elizabeth carried her lunch tray to the outdoor eating area, scanning the rows of tables for an empty seat. She found one next to Winston, who sat staring down at a book, though he looked as if he hadn't the faintest idea what he was reading. "Uh, mind if I take a seat?" Elizabeth asked.

Taking a quick glance at her, Winston smiled ecstatically, not daring to believe that his fantasy had come true. The smile faded quickly, however, when he realized which Wakefield twin it was. "Oh, hi, Liz," he said glumly. "The seat's yours if you want it."

"That's not the friendliest offer I've had all day, but I'll take it." She placed her tray on the table. "What are you reading?"

Winston put down the book. "You've got me. Something to do with economics." He shrugged. "I didn't mean to sound unfriendly, Liz. I was just thinking. I'd probably be better off if I gave it all up-school, girls, my car-and joined the nearest monastery."

Elizabeth put an arm around his shoulder. "I never thought of you as the type to get the calling. You sure about this?"

"Nah," he admitted, "but it would make life a lot simpler."

"Why do I have the feeling this has to do with girls? Say one girl in particular?"

Winston looked at her sadly. "Am I that transparent?"

Elizabeth smiled. "Not at all, Win," she lied gently. "I just happen to be her sister. You want to talk?"

Winston drummed his fingers on the table for a second or two, then let out a deep sigh. "You're right. It's Jessica."

"I know you're upset about the way she's been treating you. You have every right to be, as far as I'm concerned."

"That's not all that's bothering me, Liz. I know Jessica doesn't care for me as much as I'd like, and I can live with that for now. What's getting to me is that she's wasting her time and affection on that jerk Patman."

Elizabeth nodded. "I've been trying to tell her the same thing for days. Until now we've always been able to talk out our differences, but for the first time in our lives, she's shut me out completely. I mean, I have to admit I have been pretty critical of their relationship, but Bruce is like a god to her, and I can't stand it! She considers it a cardinal sin if I say anything critical about him. All I have to do is say one negative word about him, and she walks away in a huff."

"It sounds like she's really fallen for him hard."

"That's putting it mildly, Win. You wouldn't believe the change in her. In one week she's turned into a new person-Bruce's slave. Yesterday, for instance, she skipped cheerleading practice to take Bruce's tennis outfits to the dry cleaners. Then she went to the Record House to buy some cassettes Bruce wanted-with her own money, no less. Can you imagine the old Jessica doing that?"

Winston sighed. "We can't let her go on like this."

"I can't stop her." Sadly Elizabeth looked down at the tuna salad she'd barely touched. Jessica's love life was ruining her appetite more than her own ever had, she mused.

"But there's got to be something we can do!" Winston insisted.

Elizabeth thrust a forkful of salad into her mouth. It tasted like wet cotton. "Look, I think we both need to change the subject. Got any plans for tomorrow night?"

Winston shook his head. "Besides a hot date with my Atari? No, nothing doing."

"The Droids are playing their first big-time gig tomorrow night. Want to come along with Todd and me?"

"The Droids? How come I haven't heard about this?"

"They've been quiet about it because they don't want the audience full of kids from Sweet Valley. They want to see how their stuff'll go over with a bunch of strangers."

"I'd go see them wherever they're playing."

"Yeah. Me, too," Elizabeth agreed, but the next moment she sucked in her breath. "Win, listen, I just remembered something. Please don't get the wrong idea, but I also asked Robin Wilson to come along." She looked down at her plate hesitantly.

"Not you, too!" Winston exclaimed. "What's with you Wakefield girls? Why the big push to get me and Robin together?"

"I didn't mean it that way. I told you, I forgot for a second that I'd asked her. I just thought that since you didn't have any plans, you might want to go with Todd and me."

Winston studied Elizabeth affectionately. "That was nice of you. But Robin ... well, she's OK. We really don't have much in common, though. I get nervous around people who eat all the time."

"You don't have to feel like it's a date. There'll probably be lots of new faces at the club. And you can use a change of atmosphere. What do you say?"

"I don't have to stick with Robin?"

"You're riding in the same car together, that's all. You're free to do whatever you want after that."

"In that case, what time are you picking me up?"

Seven.

Late Saturday afternoon Elizabeth stepped out of the shower and began to get ready for her night out. She dried off, put on her bathrobe, then, after wiping off the steam-covered mirror, she ran a wide-toothed comb through her long, thick hair as she tried to figure out what to wear. Mentally rejecting most of her wardrobe, she finally decided to ask Jessica if she could borrow one of her wilder, flashier outfits. "You can't go to a rock club looking like your own grandmother," she muttered to her reflection.

She hoped Jessica wouldn't give her a hard time. At least they were talking again. Trying to keep the lines of communication open between them, Elizabeth had stopped criticizing Bruce. She figured that as long as she kept him out of the conversation, her relationship with Jessica stood a good chance of returning to normal. She also hoped it would increase the chances of Jessica's confiding in her, should she need to.

As Elizabeth finished blow-drying her hair, she heard a knock on the bathroom door. "Come in," she called out.

Jessica, smiling and balancing an armload of packages from her afternoon shopping spree, stood in the doorway. "Come take a look at what I bought," she squealed excitedly. "I found the most heavenly dresses at The Boston Shop."

"You went where?" Elizabeth couldn't believe her ears. The twins had always avoided that exclusive women's store, a place where a lot of snobby types did their shopping. Filled with curiosity, Elizabeth followed Jessica into her room. "You swore you'd never set foot in that place."

"That was before," Jessica said, opening up one of the packages.

Elizabeth didn't have to ask "before what?" "Let me see what you got," she said resignedly.

Triumphantly Jessica pulled a brown wool blazer and matching skirt out of one bag and two oxford shirts from another. The look was tasteful, classic, and rich-yet very unlike Jessica. "Aren't these the most elegant clothes you've ever seen?"

Elizabeth looked at her sister in total bewilderment. "Weren't you the one who always said that people who dress preppy have no originality?"

"That was silly of me, wasn't it?" Jessica threw the blazer over her shoulders and smiled. "Bruce thinks this is a smart look, especially for a girl with long legs like mine. He's taking me to the country club for dinner." She put the jacket on her bed and held the two shirts against it. "Which do you think looks better? The beige or the pink?"

Elizabeth longed to ask her sister why she was letting Bruce run her life, but she had the distinct feeling that Jessica wouldn't understand what she was talking about, anyway. Without further comment on her sister's changed wardrobe, Elizabeth chose the pink blouse. "Speaking of clothes," she added, "I was wondering if I could borrow your black and white miniskirt tonight."

"You can keep it forever," Jessica said airily. "I'll never need it. Bruce can't stand New Wave clothes. He says they look cheap. But don't get me wrong, that skirt would look cute on you with a black body suit."

"Yeah, thanks," Elizabeth responded dryly. She could only guess at what other changes Bruce would force on her sister. Knowing she was on the brink of saying something about Bruce, she decided to excuse herself from Jessica's room quickly. "Todd's picking me up soon, so I'd better get dressed. Have a good time tonight."

"Don't worry." Jessica winked suggestively as her sister stood in the doorway. "Bruce and I always do."

The light fog rolling in from the Pacific made the visibility on the coast road poor, and Todd almost drove past the Seaside Express, the club where The Droids were playing. "Whoa, Todd," Winston shouted from the backseat of Todd's Datsun. "There's the place."

"This is it?" Todd exclaimed as he pulled into the dirt-covered drive. Before them stood a low, wood-shingled building that had definitely seen better days. No more than a dozen cars were parked in the lot.

"There's the sign: Sand Pines," Winston noted.

"Your eyes must be better than mine," Todd said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I don't know how you even saw it. It looks like no one's been near it for decades."

He turned to Elizabeth. "You sure The Droids are playing here? The place looks deserted."

"Sure, see the sign in the window? This is it. Maybe the fog's keeping people away."

"Maybe not. It's still early, isn't it?" Winston's voice had an almost desperate sound to it. If no one else showed up, he knew he'd have to spend the rest of the evening with Robin.

"It's not that early," Todd said flatly. "I don't know about you, but I wouldn't mind just staying for a few numbers, then heading back to Sweet Valley. I don't like the looks of this place."

"We can't leave that quickly, Todd," Elizabeth stated firmly. "I've got to see their act. Besides, we're here already-and it doesn't look all that bad to me!"

"I don't want to leave," said Robin, looking hopefully at Winston.

Todd shrugged. "I suppose we'll survive." He reached over and opened the door on Elizabeth's side. "Shall we?"

On the way up the graveled path to the club's entrance, Todd paused to admire a motorcycle parked off to the side. "This Virago's a beaut, don't you think, Liz?"

Elizabeth frowned. "It's just a pile of metal. I don't think I'll ever understand what you see in these machines."

"Just wait, Liz. When I get my bike, you'll see how much fun they are."

Inside, the club's dim lighting helped mask the cheap paneled walls marred by scratches and dents.

Todd took Elizabeth by the arm protectively: "Let's find seats."

Only a few of the small black tables and chairs were occupied. Looking around, Elizabeth recognized Tony Conover, The Droids' new manager, seated alone near the back of the room, staring intently at the small stage, where the group was already performing. He seemed to be the only one paying attention. The dance floor was empty. Only a handful of people were listening to the music. The rest were huddled together in a corner, nursing drinks and cigarettes, talking very loudly. They must be club regulars, Elizabeth thought.

Elizabeth and Todd took seats at one of the vacant tables near the dance floor while Winston and Robin checked out the room from the entrance. Winston, realizing this was not the night he was going to meet the girl of his dreams, reluctantly followed his friends to the table, with Robin happily accompanying him. The group ordered a round of sodas, and Elizabeth took out her notebook to begin jotting down her impressions of the place.

After taking a close look around, she decided to leave a description of the club out of her article. It was pretty seedy. If this is the first rung on the ladder to success, she thought, The Droids have a very long way to go.

If the band members were disappointed by the surroundings, it was impossible for Elizabeth to tell. They were totally involved with their music. It was clear they'd all practiced hard for this engagement; they sounded more together now than ever. They looked more professional, too. Dana had honed her style so that she now strutted around like a self-confident star. She and Emily had also invested in eye-catching red jumpsuits, and the visual effect was powerful. Max, Dan, and Guy had coordinated their outfits and looked like a trio of alluring tough guys.

After the second song, Elizabeth put away her notebook and coaxed Todd onto the dance floor. It didn't matter to them that they were the only ones dancing, and when Elizabeth looked up at the group and got a grateful wink and smile from Emily, she knew her gesture was appreciated. Winston and Robin remained at the table, neither one saying a word.

Robin was very disappointed. Despite what Elizabeth had told her, she had hoped this would be a night to remember. Jessica had taken Robin shopping with her that afternoon, and all Jessica had talked about was how much Winston was looking forward to this date. She'd assured Robin that this was an opportunity not to be wasted. She'd even insisted on taking Robin to the store in the mall that specialized in large sizes and had personally picked the peach tunic top Robin was wearing. "Winston loves this color," Jessica had told her. Even though it wasn't very flattering to her figure, Robin had snatched the garment on the spot.

But from the moment she'd stepped into Todd's car, Robin could tell the night wasn't going to live up to her expectations. Winston had been friendly when he greeted her, but when she had tried to move closer to him on the seat, he had squirmed away uncomfortably. He'd barely spoken to her at all during the forty-five minute ride, directing most of his comments to the front seat. Far from the easygoing, talkative person she had encountered at the dance, Winston had appeared preoccupied and not at all interested in being with her. Now, sitting next to her at the table, he seemed even more distant and uncomfortable. Robin began to regret that she'd agreed to come. She kept glancing at her watch, hoping the night would end as soon as possible. She was grateful when Elizabeth and Todd said they wanted to leave after the first set. Her torture would soon be over.

By the time they got back on the coast highway, the fog had lifted, revealing a clear, star-filled sky. The group was quiet, as the evening had been a disappointment for all of them. Elizabeth passed the time gazing out at the shoreline. She found the scenery hauntingly beautiful and thought that someday she'd like to sit by the sea and write a story.

About five miles from the turnoff for Sweet Valley, Elizabeth noticed a black Porsche parked along one of the side roads leading to the water. When she realized who it belong to, she let out a gasp. Not that there was only one black Porsche in the whole world, but the license plate 1BRUCE1 gave away its owner's identity. It was Bruce Patman's.

So much for a night at the country club.