"But that's secret," Jessica protested. She couldn't for the life of her understand why anyone would tell the whole school that she'd been blackballed. Hadn't she any pride?

"Well, then, my information is secret, too."

And she walked into the school.

It was the kind of low, sneaky trick that the Pi Betas were unprepared for. They knew how to dish it out, but they had no idea how to take it. They waited desperately for the rest of the school to see the light and to reject Robin Wilson the way she deserved to be rejected. But when Bruce Patman began following Robin around, uncharacteristically falling all over her, and the boys in the Chemistry Club, led by Allen Walters, announced they were naming their latest formula the Robin Reaction, the Pi Betas realized they were losing. Then, when the defensive line of the Sweet Valley High Gladiators announced that from now on they would be known as the Blackball Brigade, the Pi Betas knew they had lost.

"This is unforgivable!" screamed Jessica to Elizabeth. "You've got to write an editorial!"

"About what?"

"You're a Pi Beta, too!"

"In this contest, Jessica, I'm a newspaperwoman. I'm neutral."

"Neutral? Neutral! How can you be neutral when your exact likeness is being stabbed, mutilated, and betrayed?"

Friday-voting day for Miss Sweet Valley High-finally arrived, and the ballot boxes on every floor of the school were clogged with ballots. It was the biggest turn-out anyone could remember.

Right up until the ballot boxes were closed at the end of school on Friday, kids chanted and rallied for their favorites. The Gladiators' offensive line and backfield paraded through the lunchroom carrying a big banner: Jessica is Just Right!

Then the defensive line came through the auditorium with a huge placard: Robin Has Us Throbbin'.

Saturday's homecoming game between Sweet Valley High and the Palisades High Pumas was billed as a grudge match because both teams were undefeated. Sportswriters and radio reporters in the Valley had hyped the game all week, so everyone was interested.

Louis Westman, school editor of The Sweet Valley Daily News, came out to cover the big game, and the local television station, KSVH, sent a crew. And of course, Allen Walters, the Oracle photographer, and John Pfeifer, the Oracle sports editor, were all over the place covering everything.

Hurrying into the area behind the stands, Elizabeth ran into Louis Westman.

"Never saw such a mob scene," said Westman. "I'm going to be swamped."

Elizabeth heard opportunity knocking. "Do you want some help, Mr. Westman?" she said eagerly. "I'm covering the Miss Sweet Valley High contest for The Oracle. Would you like me to do a story for you, too?"

"Miss Wakefield, you're a lifesaver," he said. "See me after the game."

"You bet I will," Elizabeth blurted out, her spirits soaring.

No one ever knew who Miss Sweet Valley High was before the game, because the counting of ballots traditionally started with the kickoff of the homecoming game. And the winner was always announced at half-time.

Jessica sat behind the team bench with the other contestants, waiting. Her mind was racing as she watched the Gladiators pull ahead 70 on a long run by Ken Matthews, the team captain.

I want to thank all my friends....

Then the Pumas recovered a fumble deep in Gladiator territory and tied the game 77.

I hope I can be a credit to the school as this year's Miss Sweet Valley High. Jessica's acceptance speech trilled in her ears.

Bang! The gun went off, ending the first half.

And then out onto the field ran Enid Rollins and class clown Winston Egbert with the vote totals. Enid, holding a microphone in her hand, waved for quiet.

"Attention, everybody," her voice boomed dramatically. "Attention-we've got a Miss Sweet Valley High!"

A roar of excitement drowned out her voice for a moment. Winston held his hand for silence and finished the announcement.

"This was one of the closest contests ever held at Sweet Valley, and all the girls are to be congratulated for doing a great job!"

And then Mr. Cooper, the principal, walked out and took the microphone. He held a slip of paper in his other hand. Looking at it, he read off the message.

"The winner and this year's Miss Sweet Valley High is ... Robin Wilson!"

Fourteen.

Robin virtually had to fight her way through the crowd and out onto the football field. Clearing the way for her was an excited Bruce Patman, who gave every indication that he was the date of the new Miss Sweet Valley High.

"Out of the way," Bruce commanded, shoving people aside. "Robin's coming through. Come on, Robin!"

As soon as she reached the field, a camera crew from KSVH trained its floodlights on her. Elizabeth, covering the event for both The Oracle, and The Sweet Valley News was there, too, asking questions of a glowing Robin.

"Did you expect to win?" she asked.

"No, not really. If you never expect too much, you'll never be disappointed."

"Do you have anything to tell the student body?"

Robin searched the sky for a moment. "Only something we all know but don't always remember-'Know yourself.' And don't try to be anyone else."

"OK!" Elizabeth yelled. She noticed Allen Walters trying to get through the crowd. "Make way for the man with the camera. The Oracle needs pictures of the new Miss Sweet Valley High!"

The crowd gave way. Robin stood alone at the edge of the field.

Mr. Cooper stepped up and handed her an armful of American Beauty roses, and Allen Walters recorded the moment for The Oracle.

"Procession," the students began yelling. "Procession!"

It was a tradition for Miss Sweet Valley High to ride around the football stadium in the backseat of a limousine to celebrate her triumph. The limo was out on the track, but Robin hesitated.

"Bruce," said Robin, waving him over. "Do you suppose I could ride in your Porsche instead of the limo?"

"Sure!" Bruce beamed. "Shall I get it?"

"That would be terribly nice of you," she said, giving him a dazzling smile.

Bruce raced down the field to the exit, leaped into his sleek black car, and vroomed back up the track to the field. It seemed to everyone that Robin had achieved absolute top status at Sweet Valley. She was the football queen, and now she would take her triumphal tour in Bruce Patman's black Porsche.

The car glided to a halt in front of the limousine, and Bruce jumped out to open the door. Robin walked to it, turned to wave at the crowd, then motioned for quiet.

"Thanks," she said. "And now for the procession! With me will be my escort-Allen Walters."

Elizabeth walked over to where Jessica was sitting behind the team bench. "Hard to say who looks more stupefied-Allen Walters or Bruce Patman!" Elizabeth chuckled, but Jessica ignored her. She was looking in her pocket mirror, trying to figure out why she'd lost.

"Allen Walters?" Bruce muttered.

"Me?" Allen wondered aloud.

"Come on, Allen," the queen commanded, and a dumbstruck Allen walked over and handed his camera to Elizabeth.

"Uh-Liz, I guess I'm part of the story."

Blushing but eager, Allen squeezed into the back of the black Porsche with Robin and sat there in a happy daze as they were driven victoriously around the field, with the marching band leading the way. The cheerleaders, with the exception of Jessica, piled into the limousine and then followed the Porsche on its triumphal ride. Robin smiled at Allen warmly, and he took her hand. Everyone's eyes were on the black Porsche, but theirs were on each other only.

Bruce Patman looked outraged, Jessica noticed as she put her mirror away. She was pleased that if she was to be denied her rightful title, he, also, would come away with nothing. And it only got worse when Elizabeth snapped a picture of him for The Oracle in his role as chauffeur.

"Get out of here." He moaned.

"You never looked better, Bruce." Elizabeth laughed.

Minutes later the second half of the game began. The Sweet Valley Gladiators rallied to run away from the Palisades High Pumas 28-7.

Elizabeth rushed back to her room after the game, typed up her story of the exciting day, and sped it over to Louis Westman's office. She'd poured everything she had into it and spent a sleepless night after the homecoming dance worried that it would join the stack of rejections she'd piled up. But two days later she was thrilled to see it in the paper with her by-line.

"What do you know!" she exclaimed to her family. "Victories come in threes. We won the football game, Robin won the Miss Sweet Valley contest, and"-she waved the paper in front of them triumphantly-"Elizabeth Wakefield has her first by-line in The Sweet Valley News!"

A few days later, the Pi Betas, who appreciated popularity, if nothing else, invited Robin Wilson to join their sorority. They were instantly turned down, and they were stunned.

"Can you imagine that?" Jessica said to Elizabeth. "We overrule the blackball for the first time in our entire history, and she has the colossal gall to turn us down."

"Astonishing, isn't it?" Elizabeth laughed.

"She actually thanked me for blackballing her! Even though I swore I wasn't the one. She thanked me! Because we made her change her life."

"Well, I guess we did."

"Well, then, if we turned her from an ugly duckling into a swan, how does she have the incredible nerve to turn against us?"

Elizabeth knew there was no point in trying to explain anything so obvious to a furious Jessica.

Robin had better ways to spend her time. After the Palisades High game, she and Allen Walters became inseparable. Elizabeth even put a mention of them in her column, "Eyes and Ears." The item read: "Robin Wilson, Miss Sweet Valley High, and Allen Walters, resident genius and Oracle photographer, have discovered each other."

A few weeks later Elizabeth found herself worried about how the Pi Betas, and Jessica especially, were bearing up under the double blow of Robin winning Miss Sweet Valley High and snubbing the sorority.

Jessica had a distant look in her eyes most of the time and kept disappearing for hours on end after school and over the weekends.

Elizabeth finally confronted her sister. "I really hope you're not brooding about PBA."

"Oh, Liz, that nonsense is about seven hundred and thirty-seventh on my list of concerns," Jessica said.

Elizabeth could not believe she'd heard correctly.

"What was that, Jessica?"

"You probably haven't noticed it, but the Pi Betas are terribly juvenile. I'm surprised you spend so much time with them."

Elizabeth took a good look at her twin sister. It seemed Jessica had shifted gears all of a sudden. This was not unusual, but the tone of her twin's voice made Elizabeth nervous.

"What's happened, Jessica?"

"What?" Innocence flowed.

"I've noticed lately that you've been walking around looking a little out of it, but I thought it was because you were sorting out that business with Robin."

"My dear, naive Elizabeth," said Jessica. "Those are things kids worry about."

"Well, if you haven't been hiding out because you didn't want to show your face, where have you been going?"

"To the beach. Sketching. I feel art is something extremely important to me, Liz."

"Beach? Sketching?"

"The dunes around Castle Cove are magnificent natural wonders."

Elizabeth did a double take. Was she hearing correctly? Castle Cove? That's where the crowd of college kids from State hung out.

"Jessica, are you hanging out with that college crowd?"

"I find them much more the sort of people I enjoy," Jessica said earnestly. "They understand life and art."

"Uh-huh! And is one of the natural wonders you've noticed at the cove by any chance a college man?"

"Scott Daniels!" Jessica gushed excitedly. "Oh, Liz, he's such a gorgeous hunk! And he's interested in me."

"Jessica, does he know you're only sixteen?"

"Totally irrelevant! He's interested in me for what I am."

And with that Jessica packed up her tote and headed for Castle Cove.

Elizabeth watched her go, fearful of what this new adventure might mean for her impetuous twin.

Jessica in love with an experienced college man meant storm clouds would be gathering soon. And all Elizabeth could do was hope that the inevitable winds would not shipwreck those close to her sister-including herself.