Playing With Fire (10 page)

Robin shook her head emphatically. She'd be a fool to turn her back on the opportunity she'd dreamed of. Whatever it was they wanted couldn't be that bad. “I'll do it.”

“But you don't even know what it is!”

“It doesn't matter. Tell me what it is,” Robin demanded.

“If you insist.” Jessica gave her a look of pity, but inside she was delighted that Robin had fallen for her story. “Mr. Russo keeps a stack of papers in the third drawer of the big glass cabinet in the chemistry lab. The drawer is locked, but the key is in the side compartment of his desk, taped to the top of the drawer. You're to take one of the papers marked test number three and bring it back to me.”

Robin hedged. This wasn't a silly little rush prank. “I don't know, Jessica. That sounds like cheating—not to mention stealing.”

“Oh, no!” Jessica said emphatically. “Would I ask you to do this if the paper really meant anything?”

“But what if I get caught?”

“You won't. Bruce assures me it's foolproof.”

“Bruce? What's he got to do with it?”

Jessica hesitated a second. She shouldn't have mentioned Bruce's name in connection with this scheme, but it was too late to take it back. “Oh, he once made some fraternity buddies do something just like this,” she said, covering herself. “They got away with it—and so will you if you follow my plan. All you have to do is hide out in the second-floor bathroom till dusk. Everyone will be gone by then, but there will still be enough light to see by. Get the test, then leave through the back entrance.” She stopped; it was a calculated pause. “But of course I wouldn't want you to risk it if you don't want to.”

“You say I have to do this to get into the sorority?”

“If you pull it off, I promise I'll nominate you.”

Robin toyed with her combination lock as she weighed the consequences. True, there was a chance she could get caught, but it seemed a small risk compared to the reward. Turning from her locker, she nodded determinedly at Jessica. “When do I have to do it?”

“Tonight. And after you've got it, bring it over to my house. Understand?”

*   *   *

At seven that evening Robin stopped by Jessica's house, clutching a brown envelope tightly against her body. “I've got it,” she whispered conspiratorially as soon as Jessica opened the door.

Jessica breathed a sigh of relief. “Good,” she said. “Now there's one more thing you have to do.”

Robin frowned. Alone in the darkened school, she'd been scared half to death. Her heartbeat hadn't returned to normal until she'd pulled up safely in front of Jessica's house. She never wanted to go through anything like that again. In fact, right this minute she couldn't understand where her brains had been in the first place when she agreed to the prank. “What now?” she asked reluctantly, handing the envelope to Jessica.

But Jessica refused to take it. “Don't give it to me. Tomorrow morning slip it inside Emily Mayer's locker.”

“Emily? I didn't know she was in PBA.”

“She wants to join,” Jessica said, knowing full well that The Droids' drummer wasn't the slightest bit interested in the sorority. “We have something in mind for her.”

“Whatever you say, Jess.” Robin sighed in relief. After what she'd just gone through, Jessica's new request would be easy.

*   *   *

Before class the following morning, Jessica approached Emily in the hallway. “You look pretty tired,” she noted with false sympathy. “I'll bet you've been very busy with The Droids.”

“Yeah, I have,” Emily answered offhandedly. “Two shows every weekend and practice every night.”

“Too busy to study much, I imagine.”

Emily looked at her strangely. Jessica hardly ever spoke to her unless she wanted something. “Right. Why do you ask?”

“Are you ready for the big test tomorrow morning?”

Emily hesitated before answering. The Droids' practice schedule had taken up so much of her time that she'd had no chance to study. But that morning she'd discovered an envelope containing the test in her locker. Had Jessica put it there? “I don't know,” she hedged. “There's so much to study.”

“You're a good person, Emily, and I'd hate to see you go nuts over the books when you don't have to.”

“I'm touched by your concern,” Emily said stiffly.

Jessica, pleased with Emily's responses so far, decided to get right to the point. “I know you have tomorrow's test.”

“Because you put it in my locker, right?”

“I don't have the faintest idea where you got it,” Jessica lied, “but I saw you looking at it this morning—with my very own eyes.”

“What makes you think I'm going to use it?” Emily challenged her.

“Why wouldn't you, Emily? You flunked the last test. And I'm sure you'd much rather practice with the band tonight than cram in eight chapters of that junk. Face it, Emily, the test is a godsend.”

“You're talking about cheating, Jessica.”

“Maybe
you'd
call it that.
I'd
call it your golden opportunity. C'mon, Emily, do you really want to see the look on your parents' faces when you come home with another F? Especially when you don't have to?”

Emily's eyes narrowed. “What's in it for you, Jessica?”

“Not much. Just a passing grade. See, Russo would know something was wrong if I aced this test all of a sudden. But he wouldn't question an A from you. And all you have to do to get an A is to figure out the answers to the test. That shouldn't be hard for a brain like you.”

“And you plan to copy the answers off my paper,” Emily finished.

“Not all of them,” Jessica corrected her. “Just enough to pass.”

“And what if I decide not to use the test?”

“You can't afford not to use it,” she threatened. “I know a certain teacher who'd be pretty upset if he knew you had the exam in your hands. You wouldn't want him to find out, would you?”

*   *   *

Several days later Elizabeth pulled her mother's red Fiat Spider up to Max Dellon's house after school. As part of her continuing series on The Droids, she planned to get a behind-the-scenes look at how they prepared for their concerts.

Max let her in and led her to one of two beat-up couches leaning against the back wall of the basement. The rest of the group were busily tuning their instruments. “We were just getting ready to start,” he explained.

Elizabeth shook her head. “Go on with what you're doing and try to pretend I'm not here. I'll save my questions for after you're done.” She sat down and reached into her shoulder bag for her little spiral notebook.

Max shrugged nonchalantly. “Fine with me.”

The basement, set up like a mini-studio, was hardly the wild place Elizabeth had heard so much about. No mattresses on the floor, no smoke choking up the room—just the band instruments, a couch, a table and a couple of chairs, plenty of posters, and a tiny refrigerator in the corner. Elizabeth noted all this in her book as she listened to the overpowering sound of the band.

The Droids really did act as if Elizabeth weren't there. Midway through the second song, Guy walked away from his synthesizer in a huff, angry over the way Dana was singing. Dana couldn't see what he was upset about, and the two of them got into a shouting match that lasted five minutes. Max seemed to find the spat amusing, and every now and then he'd interject a remark that got the fireworks going all over again. For the rest of the set, Max played his guitar as if he couldn't care less, and while it sounded fine to Elizabeth, she could tell there was something missing in his spirit.

During the rest of the hour-long session, the tight expression on Guy's face revealed his unhappiness with the band's sound. He made no further interruptions, though. After their signature song, “Looking Through the Lies,” he called for a break, and the tired fivesome came down off the platform, taking seats around Elizabeth.

Max stopped first at the refrigerator and took out some cans of soft drinks for everyone. “That's a Tab for you,” he said, handed the can to Dana. “Cokes for you, my dear Emily, and for you, Danny boy.” He handed them to his playing partners. “And an orange soda for you, my man.” Max thrust the can into Guy's hand. “What can I get you, Liz?”

“A root beer if you have it. I see you've got everyone's taste covered here.”

“Have to in order to survive,” Max said, handing over her drink. “When you spend nearly every waking hour with these bozos, you end up learning a lot about them.”

“Sometimes more than you want to know,” Emily grumbled, aiming her gaze at Guy.

“Your time together has paid off, I think,” Elizabeth said to the group. “You sounded terrific.”

“Thanks, Liz,” Guy said. “But we have a long way to go. We're still not as tight as we have to be.”

“Come on, Guy, don't hang our dirty laundry in front of the press,” Dana shot back, only half joking. She was still upset over his earlier criticism. Turning to Elizabeth, she explained, “Guy is a perfectionist. One wrong note and he goes nuts. But Tony—our manager, you know—agrees with you. He says we're sounding better and better all the time.”

“So why does he keep booking us in those hole-in-the-wall places?” Guy complained.

“Guy, come off it,” Emily interrupted. “You know as well as we all do that we're not going to make it overnight. We need to play these places for the experience. And Tony's promised to get us into bigger spots as soon as he can. You've just got to have faith in him. Right, Dana?”

The lead singer looked at Emily a little shakily, obviously not sure how to answer. “Oh, uh, right, Emily. Tony's going to make us hit big.” Elizabeth thought she sounded strangely unconvinced.

“
Do
you trust your manager?” Elizabeth asked her.

“Of course,” Dana said hurriedly. “He's been very good to us. In fact, there's a chance we'll be playing a small club in L.A. in a couple of weeks.”

The rest of the group looked at her in astonishment. “You dreaming, girl?” Dan asked.

“That's the word I got from Tony,” Dana insisted.

“When did you talk to him?” Guy demanded angrily.

“Last night after practice.”

“Why didn't you tell the rest of us about this sooner? Didn't you think we'd be interested?” Guy continued his inquisition.

“I thought you knew. Tony told me he was going to call you.”

“I guess he forgot,” Guy said disgustedly. “Just like he forgot to tell me about the change in this week's date.”

“What are you driving at, Guy?” Dana probed.

“Why don't you tell me?” Guy shot back. “Since when did you appoint yourself group spokesman? Why is Tony letting only you in on all his wonderful plans for us?”

Elizabeth was getting very uncomfortable with the mounting tension in the room. “I—I think I'd better go now,” she said, rising.

Dan turned to Guy. “Hey, you've driven away the press. We're never going to get anywhere with that kind of attitude.”

“Forget it, Dan,” Elizabeth said. “I'll be back. I see I've caught you on a bad day.”

Out of Elizabeth's earshot Dana whispered, “Every day's a bad day lately.”

“Maybe you're right, Liz,” Max said diplomatically. “I think we can all use a break. What do you say, bozos? Let's cool it for now and start up again tonight.”

Guy agreed reluctantly, and Dan and the two girls followed suit.

As Elizabeth neared the door, Emily asked her for a lift home. “I usually go with Dana, but there's something I want to talk to you about.”

Together they walked slowly to Elizabeth's car. “If it's about the article,” she said, “don't worry. I can see you guys are pretty tense, and having me around probably didn't help. I'll hold off on the piece until you're more relaxed.”

Emily smiled. “Thanks, but that's not what I had in mind.”

“What is it then?”

Emily didn't answer until they were both in the car and on the road. Alone with Elizabeth, she was suddenly unsure whether she wanted to bring up the subject at all. But the longer she sat silent, the more the need to talk rose up inside her. Finally, about two blocks from her house, she burst out, “Liz, have you ever felt really dishonest?”

“Hasn't everyone at one point or another?”

“I mean, have you ever gone through with anything that you knew from the very beginning wasn't good, or right?”

“Why do you ask?”

Emily bit her lip. “I kind of cheated on Russo's test.”

“Oh, boy.”

“I know,” Emily agreed. “It's a big one. And I never would have done it if—” Emily stopped herself. She had a powerful need to confess everything, but she didn't want to tell on Jessica, especially not to her sister.

Elizabeth misread her hesitation. “You don't have to tell me. I can see the pressure you've been under with The Droids and everything.”

“That doesn't excuse what I did. I'm really ashamed of myself, Liz. I've never done anything like this before.”

“Why are you telling
me,
Emily?”

“I don't know. I guess because I trust you, Liz. And I don't know what to do. I thought you could help.”

Elizabeth tapped the steering wheel as she chose her words. “Well, I guess one thing you could do is tell Russo the truth. But, boy, that'll take a lot of guts.”

“I can't do that.”

“Yeah, I don't blame you for feeling that way, but I bet you'll end up a lot happier about things if you can get the truth out. I know you well enough to know you couldn't live with something like that hanging over your head.”

“But he'll flunk me!”