She realized now that what had happened the night before had been a long time in coming. Couples didn't just break up with no warning. The truth was that Amy Sutton wasn't the real source of the problem. Of course, it was clear that Bruce had completely fallen for her, but Regina had to admit she had seen trouble coming for weeks.

  Bruce had never had a long-term commitment before he'd met her. Quite the opposite, in fact. He had always enjoyed the pursuit more than the capture, and dating one pretty, desirable girl after another had been part of the old Bruce Patman image—the image that compelled him to get license plates for his car that read: BRUCE 1. Regina was something entirely new for him, and she suspected now that the novelty of their relationship had appealed to him a great deal. Being in love—when it was for the first time—was incredibly exciting, and Bruce had thrown himself into their relationship. She knew that he had really loved her. He had been faithful to her the whole time she was in Switzerland and had stood by her through some tough times, including the dreadful episode when she had been forced onto a plane at gunpoint and brought back to Sweet Valley to be held hostage in her parents' home.

  But Regina also knew that their relationship had been punctuated with high drama. No sooner had they declared their love than they were separated. The long-distance romance had been difficult, but since both of them had enough money for phone calls, they managed to stay in touch. And transatlantic romance was exciting. There had been plenty of intrigue to keep their relationship fresh. Then, when Regina came back, there was the excitement of her cure—she could hear Bruce's voice for the first time, and it almost seemed as if their relationship began afresh.

  Only in the past few months had they had to adjust to the ups and downs of a normal romantic relationship. Regina had sensed there might be difficulties involved. Frankly, she thought Bruce was getting a little bored. He was less excited at the prospect of a quiet Friday evening alone with her than he might have been earlier on. Sometimes she caught him staring off into space, a restless expression on his face. She, in turn, had become more withdrawn, less able to express what was on her mind. As she felt him withdraw, she felt herself, despite her best intentions, becoming more clingy and more demanding. Months ago she wouldn't have minded in the least if Bruce had spent a night out with his friends. But his behavior made her so insecure lately that she had changed, too. She had become much more dependent on him and much less fun.

  As for Amy . . . well, Regina ached every time she thought of Bruce with her, but she could certainly see why Bruce was attracted to the girl. Amy was exactly like the girls he had dated before Regina—fluffy, silly, flirtatious—fun for a while and impossible to take seriously.

  Rationally it all made sense to Regina. But emotionally she couldn't accept it. She felt devastated by Bruce's behavior. She never wanted to face him again. Lying in bed and mulling through the events of the prior evening, she was doubly glad she had called Justin and agreed to go out with him tonight. She needed to take her mind off Bruce and Amy—and fast.

  Regina had made a resolution the night before, after she and Justin had decided to meet some of his friends in town. She had resolved not to talk to Bruce when he called—which she knew he would. He would probably have dozens of excuses for his behavior the night before. Knowing Bruce's reputation, he might even want to keep stringing her along while he got to know Amy better. But Regina wasn't going to be part of Bruce's games. She had never had her heart broken before, and she didn't exactly know the rules. But she knew she couldn't bear to talk to him. It would be hard enough having to face him in school, but she had already decided that the one thing she could salvage was her pride. No one was going to know how much she was suffering. And Justin Belson would fit nicely into that scheme.

  "How was the barbecue?" Mrs. Morrow asked when Regina wandered into the cozy breakfast room. Nicholas was deeply absorbed in the sports section and barely glanced up at her as she slid into a chair across from him.

  "Fine," Regina said briefly, pouring herself a glass of milk. "Can I have the fashion section, please?"

  "Bruce called while you were in the shower," her mother continued. "He said he wants to come by to get the car and that he really wants to talk to you. He'll call back in a little while."

  Regina raised one eyebrow and turned to the newspaper. She sensed her mother's curiosity was piqued, but she didn't want to encourage any questions.

  Nicholas suddenly seemed to forget about the basketball scores he had been studying. "I heard you two had sort of a misunderstanding," he said, reaching for a piece of toast.

  Regina's eyes flashed. "How did you hear that? Doesn't anyone in this town have anything better to do than to talk about Bruce and me?"

  "Hey," Nicholas said affably. "Calm down. I just happened to bump into Ken Matthews when I was out jogging this morning, that's all. And he said—"

  Regina put her hands over her ears. "Stop," she said, her eyes glistening with tears.

  Concerned, Mrs. Morrow stared at her. "Honey, was this a serious argument? Bruce didn't sound as if anything were wrong on the phone."

  "Well, something is wrong," Regina said, trying to seem very busy about buttering a piece of toast. "We broke up," she added noncommittally. "And I think it's time. We're too young to get so serious."

  Nicholas, who had occasionally suggested pretty much the same thing to his younger sister, looked at her with consternation. "Are you sure? I thought you two were like Romeo and Juliet or something."

  "Yeah, and look what happened to them," Regina snapped. She knew she was being touchy, but she wanted the discussion to end. It hurt too much to talk about it.

  "What should I say if he calls back, honey?" her mother asked when Regina got up from the table.

  "Tell him I'm not home," Regina suggested. All she had to do to stay angry was to conjure up the image of Bruce and Amy coming out from behind that tree together. "Or better yet, tell him I don't want to talk to him. Ever again!"

  With that she spun on her heel and dashed out of the room. It was going to be a long time before she could tolerate hearing Bruce's name. Until then she was just going to have to do everything she could to keep herself busy so she wouldn't go crazy with grief.

  And Justin Belson seemed to be the obvious answer.

  "I've never been here before," Regina said, swallowing nervously. Kelly's was a notorious dive in Sweet Valley, a place where some kids liked to go because it was rumored that the bar would serve anyone, even teenagers, as long as they could pay for their drinks. Regina knew her parents would die if they knew where she was. As it was, they hadn't been thrilled when Justin had shown up wearing a leather jacket. Even with his chiseled features, he looked slightly tough—a little older than guys she knew at school and definitely more streetwise.

  Her own outfit, a pair of black jeans and a loose cotton sweater, looked schoolgirlish next to his. But Justin didn't seem to mind. He looked at her with a mixture of admiration and something she couldn't quite put her finger on. Something like awe.

  "You've never been to Kelly's?" Justin repeated incredulously. "You're kidding! Boy, you really have led a sheltered life."

  Regina followed him into the dimly lit bar and blinked nervously as she looked around her. It seemed pretty normal, actually. There was an old jukebox in the corner, and the guy behind the bar was polishing glasses, like bartenders always seemed to do in movies. One or two men were sitting at the bar, but otherwise the place was quiet. But then, it was a Sunday evening.

  "Let me buy you a beer," Justin said, taking a seat in a booth and looking at her intently.

  "Uh, no, thanks. I'd like a Coke," Regina said uncomfortably as she sat opposite Justin.

  Justin laughed, shrugged at the waiter, and leaned back in the booth. "Make that one Coke and one beer," he said. The waiter nodded. Regina chewed on the corner of her lip. What if he got drunk? Should she ask to drive home? She felt her palms begin to sweat. Maybe she shouldn't have come.

  Justin seemed to sense she was nervous. "You're not used to places like this, are you?" he said. His voice sounded wistful. When Regina shook her head, he added, "Next time we'll go somewhere you choose. I just didn't think, that's all."

  Regina relaxed slightly. He was nice. "Don't your parents mind about stuff like drinking?" she asked.

  Justin stared at her. "My parents," he repeated bitterly. Regina guessed she had hit a nerve. "Look," Justin added, "I don't want to go on and on about my family. It's too depressing. But I guess I should tell you that my father's dead. He got killed two years ago—the year I took off school."

  Regina stared. "Killed? You mean—"

  "Murdered," Justin said, sighing. "It's straight out of a grade-B cops-and-robbers film. Only it really happened. My dad owned a liquor store on Putnam Avenue, which isn't the greatest part of town. He'd done pretty well with it, though, and business was OK. Up until then I guess he and Mom and I were your basic old family. And then"—he spread his hands, a grimace on his handsome face—"boom. The whole thing exploded in our faces."

  "What happened?" Regina asked, her eyes big.

  "Dad got mugged by two stupid kids trying to rip him off for drug money. They weren't even as old as we are now," he added, looking away from her. The waiter brought their drinks, and Justin was quiet for a minute, pushing the beer glass back and forth on the table. "Anyway, Dad had an alarm behind the cash register, and he hit it, and one of the kids panicked and stabbed him. And that was it," Justin concluded.

  "You mean he killed him?" Regina demanded.

  Staring down into his glass, Justin nodded. "Yup. After that everything fell apart fast. My mother started taking pills the doctors gave her to calm her down, and she's been taking them ever since. I took a year off school to try to decide what to do about it all. I think the only thing that kept me from junking everything was Molly."

  "Who's Molly?" Regina asked, taking a sip of Coke. She didn't know what to think of Justin's story. There was something so tough about the way he told it, but she could see sadness in his eyes the whole time he spoke. She thought that he was really suffering.

  "Molly Hecht. Do you know her? She's a junior. She and I have been friends for a long time. Blond, small, pretty," he added with a twisted smile.

  Regina shook her head. "I don't think I know her," she said. "Is she your girlfriend?" Something about the way Justin said her name made Regina think he loved her.

  He sighed. "Not now. She was, for years. Since junior high, if you can believe it. She really helped me through some tough times. Sometimes I think . . ." His voice trailed off as he stared over Regina's shoulder. "But anyway, that's history now," he said. "Molly's been in a lot of trouble lately. We're still really good friends, but I just can't be involved with her now. Not as long as she's involved with people like Jan Brown."

  "Who's Jan Brown?"

  "Part of the real hard-core drug set," Justin explained. "I love Molly, and I can't stand seeing her get mixed up with people like that. But there's only so much I can do." He looked sadly at Regina. "I think that's just about the worst part of growing up—admitting that sometimes you can't stop someone you love from growing away from you."

  Regina was quiet for a minute. "Yes," she said softly. "I know what you mean."

  And she did. Something in Justin's voice struck a chord in Regina, and she realized now what it was.

  They were both lonely. But Justin's loneliness seemed so profound that it made Regina feel guilty about her own minor troubles. She wanted suddenly to help him. She wanted to make it up to him somehow—to show him that there was still such a thing in this world as loyalty and kindness.

  Right then and there Regina vowed she was going to be a good friend to Justin Belson. And not just to take her mind off Bruce, though that was part of her motivation. It was going to be a long, long time before she got over Bruce, and there was no point pretending it was going to be easy.

  The real reason was that she wanted to prove—to herself as well as to Justin—that she could make a difference to someone. She sure hadn't managed to make a difference to Bruce.

  This time, though, it was going to be different. She would make sure of that.

  Six

  "I just want you to know, Jessica Wakefield, that your barbecue was one of the most perfect evenings of my entire life!" Amy hurried over to set her tray down next to Jessica's. It was Monday at noon, and the cafeteria was already crowded, but Amy seemed oblivious. She had one thing on her mind, and that was her own romantic situation—always a favorite topic of hers, but now that Bruce was in the picture, her sole subject of conversation.

  Jessica put down the latest issue of Glamour, which she had been perusing while she waited for her friend. "I'm glad you had fun," she said dryly. "I don't suppose you care that my twin sister holds me responsible—or at least partly responsible—for wrecking her friendship with Regina?"

  Amy poured dressing over her salad. "I'm sure Regina will forget all about their little tiff in a day or two," she said cheerfully. "Although," she added, dropping her voice, "I'm not really in any mood to encourage her to forgive Bruce. I have to ask your advice about this, Jess, because—" She floundered, unable to come up with anything more plausible than simply wanting to talk about herself and Bruce. She tried another tack. "I mean, I hate to seem like the jealous type—at least at this stage. I mean before it's gotten really serious and everything. But I really do think that Bruce should forget all about Regina. It bothers me the way he keeps bringing up her name all the time. I mean it seems to me that Regina is history as far as he's concerned, don't you agree?"

  Jessica ate a french fry and pretended to think it over. The truth was that Amy Sutton was beginning to turn into a real bore as far as Jessica was concerned. "You know," she said suddenly, leaning forward as she caught sight of Regina coming out of the lunch line, "I've seen Regina and Justin Belson together three times today, and it's only lunchtime. What do you think is going on between them?"

  Amy narrowed her eyes. "Oh, Lord," she said, putting her fork down. "I hope Regina doesn't do something stupid like go rushing right into another relationship. It might make Bruce crazy."

  Jessica ate another french fry. She didn't feel like reminding Amy of the obvious—that Bruce seemed to be rushing into a new relationship as well. Or at least Amy clearly hoped he was.

  Actually, Jessica could see why Regina might find Justin appealing. He was definitely cute. Tall and angular, with moody, slightly romantic eyes, Justin always seemed to look as if he were ready to take on the world, whatever the cost.

  With great interest, Jessica watched Justin and Regina head for a table out on the sunlit patio. "They really don't seem to have much in common," she mused aloud. "Regina's got absolutely everything going for her, right? Straight A's, a good family, tons of money, incredible beauty—"

  "Please," Amy said, an annoyed look on her face.

  "Sorry." Jessica giggled. "I didn't mean to pump up the competition, but it's true." She looked thoughtfully at Justin, who was gesturing as he spoke. "And what's Justin got? He's on academic probation. He hangs out with a rough crowd. He's cute, but not gorgeous. I just don't see why Regina's interested, unless—" She leaned forward again, her expression intense.

  "Unless what?" Amy demanded.

  "Unless," Jessica said slowly, "that what my sister suggested is true, that Regina is so upset at the world that she wants to get revenge. And maybe Justin Belson is the best way she can find to show us all that she's different now—that the old Regina just doesn't wait anymore."

  "Maybe," Amy said, losing interest. "Maybe she's just hanging out with him till someone better comes along."

  Jessica shook her head. She didn't think Regina was that kind of girl. Regina wouldn't make a new friend unless he were going to matter. The only question was whether or not she was doing the right thing, falling in with someone whose middle name seemed to be Trouble.

  "Let me give you my history notes," Regina offered, handing Justin her notebook. "Honestly, Justin, it's no trouble. I can pick them up from you in study hall."

  Justin shook his head and smiled. "You want to give me everything. You tried to pay for drinks last night," he reminded her. Now you're worried I'm going to flunk out of school, so you want to give me your history notes. What next?"

  Regina blushed. "You think I'm being too maternal."

  Justin laughed. "Don't think I don't like it. It's been a long time since anyone's been so worried about me." He frowned suddenly, and Regina thought that one of the most fascinating things about him was how rapidly he shifted from joking around to utter seriousness. It was like watching storm clouds pass quickly across the sun. "Most of the time I'm the one who has to take care of things," he added softly. "Like taking care of my mother. Or taking care of Molly. I'm glad that you're so together. But I've had enough experience to know what a drag it is to take care of someone, Regina. I don't want you to feel that way about me."

  Regina lowered her eyes. She wished she knew exactly how he did want her to feel. She wished she knew how she felt as well. It was astonishing to her that she should enjoy Justin's company so much. They had spent hours the night before at Kelly's, and she had wanted the evening to go on and on. In some ways this was because Justin seemed to her almost like a creature from another world. His experiences had been so different from hers.

  Regina had led an extremely sheltered life. Her parents adored her and in any circumstances would have fought hard to protect her from pain. But the fact that she was born handicapped made her parents feel even more protective than they might have. Regina had always been "special," and people had always looked out for her. True, her parents' wealth couldn't always protect her from danger—as had been proven the time she was kidnapped by one of her father's bitter former employees. But Regina had rarely had the chance to get to know people from backgrounds different from her own.

  Bruce came from a family every bit as wealthy as the Morrows. She and Bruce had big allowances, access to their parents' credit cards, their own expensive cars to drive. They might have had different value systems—Bruce felt much more entitled to luxuries than Regina did, for example—but they really were alike.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9