Sweet Valley Confidential - the alternative
Too long between posts makes Winston a sad class clown, so I thought I might give you all something to read.
Called “When Lila Met Stacey” this BSC-SVH crossover is a snarky, and at-times gruesome alternative to Sweet Valley Confidential. It combines intricacies of these two YA series [the best books ever, in my humble opinion] and I’ve been posting it in installments on my site.
If you’re a fan of Elizabeth Wakefield and Karen Brewer, beware. But if you're like me and adore Bruce Patman and Margo Black and have a soft spot for Jessica sociopath Wakefield, your day has arrived. There are a central bunch of characters, but I like to bring in D-listers for a cameo every once in a while - cue Tom McKay and Ken Matthews. Also Steven is dating the BSC’s young sitting charges, who are now in their teens, which is really no surprise given that he went through his sister’s high-school year during college.
I also wish no disrespect to Fran-Pasc or Ann M Martin, and am indebted to their creation of lovely clichés like “glittering knife” and “an electric shock ran through her size-six body”, because without them the series wouldn’t work.
Below are chapters 1 and 2, which are by no means my favourite [i.e. Bruce hasn’t arrived and Margo hasn’t turned evil yet], but the others don’t make much sense without the scene-setter.
If it’s not cool to post here, my sincere class clown apologies, and feel free to remove. But if you like what you read, chapters 1-5 are up already, and the next four chapters are set for release this month.
Chapter 1
STONEYBROOK, or “Leaving Home”
Elizabeth Wakefield glanced at the silver wristwatch on her left hand and sighed. It was four minutes past five o’clock, and the end of another exhausting day at the Stoneybrook News. Four minutes past five and already the Stoneybrook Fountain was casting long shadows over Belairs in the centre of the mall.
She pushed her chair back and sighed. It was days like this she missed her hometown of Sweet Valley, California: missed the lingering sunshine and barefoot nights spent spinning to the strains of the Droids at the Beach Disco. She missed her long-time companion, Enid Rollins, and despised swapping her post as editor-in-chief of the SV Tribune for feel-good stories about diabetic mathematicians graudating from SMS. But most of all, she missed Jessica. Her twin, her other half, created in her own size-six, sun-streaked blonde-haired likness. Her best friend.
But the thought of her handsome boyfriend Todd Wilkins, with his warm, coffee-coloured eyes brought her back. An electric shock ran through her slim body as she thought of his chiseled jaw and generous biceps and the way they gave her such comfort. She knew his job offer as head basketball coach for SMS had been too good to turn down, and she had been almost as excited as he was when he’d announced the move. So excited, in fact, that she’d handed in her resignation at the Tribune that very day. And now, here she was, 6000 miles away, replacing the Box Tree Café and Palomar House with cheap take-out from Uncle Ed’s.
This is my life now, she thought with steely resolve. I have to make it.
Elizabeth pushed back her chair. At Sweet Valley she wouldn’t even be contemplating leaving the office yet - not until she’d gotten the scoop on the latest breaking tragedy in her neighbourhood, or listened to environmental editor Dawn Schafer rabbiting on about the pollution at Secca Lake. In other words, not till midnight. But now, she couldn’t wait to rush back to the two bedroom townhouse on Bradford Court she and Todd had been renting, to the solace of her own room, and curl up with her favourite Amanda Howard mystery.
“Bye, Mallory,” she called to the chirpy intern, who was frantically bent over the photocopier.
“See ya, Lizzie!” breathed Mallory, her frizzy red hair flapping about her face.
“You seem flustered,” murmured Elizabeth, resisting the urge to pat the junior’s shoulder over her oversized cream crochet sweater. “Is anything wrong?” A look of concern crossed her face.
“The usual.” said Mallory blankly, making a face. “I told Kristy I’d be at her place by six. She said something about having an awesome idea. It’s all over twitter.”
She slid her thick glasses up her nose.
“Oh and Liz - could you review the work experience applications from these kids from SHS? They’re in 9th grade - maybe we could put them to work.”
* * *
At 6:59pm, Todd’s black BMW crunched up the gravel driveway.
“You’re late,” Elizabeth said, flatly as he waltzed into the kitchen. She snatched his keys impatiently, and threw then down on the Spanish-tiled bench-top.
A look of regret flashed across Todd’s tanned face. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, engulfing her in a hug. “I was helping Laine mark her fourth grader’s geography project. It’s about anti-whaling.”
“She’s a qualified teacher,” Elizabeth snapped bitterly. “I’m sure she can handle it - besides, who cares about saving the whales?”
Todd did, but he let the comment slide.
“And that’s not all,” she continued. “You were late last night as well, and the night before that you and Ken were positively drunk at the Basher’s baseball final. I moved here for you, Todd Wilkins! Its time you started pulling your weight.” She slammed his casserole, now luke-warm, down on the table.
Todd sighed as he watched her sashay into her bedroom, probably to rearrange her desk-top or categorize her life plans for the next month. His girlfriend was having major adjustment problems. He opened up a copy of Sports Illustrated and sat down on the trundle bed he slept on downstairs. He’d been stupid to assume that once they’d moved in together Liz would be over her loss-of-virginity-phobia. Still, it didn’t really seem like the night to bring it up, somehow.
He loved Liz, he did, and he had for at least ten years. Fourteen, actually - since that first night he’d kissed her at a bowling alley in the sixth grade. He’d been there for her - through countless fights with her sister, the earthquake, two kidnappings and an evil doppelganger coming to SV and trying to steal her life. He’d forgiven her the fifteen times she’d cheated on him in their high-school junior year - with Bruce Patman, two Frenchmen, a werewolf and a psychotic face-transplanter nonetheless. And so he knew he’d just have to suck it up and get over her clingy separation anxiety for awhile. Before he did something he’d regret.
* * *
The Tower Clock was just striking nine as Elizabeth breezed through her first assignment of the day. “Local Girl Wins Nobel Prize in Mathematics.” It was about a dowdy looking Japanese girl called Janine Kishi. Elizabeth doubted she would be any better than Winston Egbert, Sweet Valley’s resident math whiz.
Elizabeth peered over her desk to the mousy brunette answering the phones. Mary-Anne, she’d heard someone call her. Elizabeth watched with a mixture of curiosity and pity as the girl hitched up her white knee-high socks and flicked an imaginary speck of dust off her patent leather flats. She didn’t look a day older than twenty.
“What’s her story?” she whispered to Mallory, pointing a perfectly manicured nail at the secretary.
“Oh, you mean Mary-Anne Spier,” chirped Mallory. “I’ve known her since we were kids. Her father is a lawyer - he practices all kinds of law, like your dad I think - and her step-mom is this total scatterbrain. Probably all the pot. Her real mum died when she was a baby - which probably means she inhabits the railroad underneath the place where they all live now on Burnt Hill Road. It was built in 1794, you know…”
Elizabeth shook her head. Poor Mary-Anne! Not only was she from a completely anuclear family, but a house without Spanish tiling was not at all conducive to a successful life. No wonder this girl was only a secretary.
She turned back to Mallory, who was still prattling
“- Oh and her father still forbids her to date. She’s still seeing Logan though, he brings her lunch sometimes and they go ice-skating, or they visit the Prezziosos..”
Elizabeth was saved by a phone call at her desk. It was Mary-Anne.
“Hi,” whispered the receptionist shyly. “The SHS students are here for their orientation. I knew you’d be happy to take care of them. Also, one of them is Mallory’s sister.” Elizabeth exhaled slowly. Probably the most words this girl had ever uttered - and she’d spoken them to Elizabeth! She thought back to Lynne Henry, a pathologically bashful introvert from Sweet Valley High School, whom Elizabeth with all her patience had managed to unshell. She’d even landed the girl a boyfriend. Project time!
“Shannon,” she called to the office’s resident job-filler. “Finish proof-reading my piece while I show the students around.” Elizabeth stepped out into the main lobby, gawking at Mary-Anne as she passed the front desk.
Outside stood a pair of high school girls. The taller, a raven-haired teen, was looking at the floor. The other, a petite blonde wearing oversized, purple-rimmed glasses, stuck out her hand. Elizabeth resisted a smirk as she watched the fifteen year old skittering on a too-large pair of court shoes, practically swimming in a black blazer.
“My name is Karen Brewer,” she announced. “Grand-daughter of the famous ghost, Ben Brewer, and step-sister of Kristy- she’s running for the local council. She lent me this outfit she bought in New York, from Bloomingdales.” She whipped out a navy blue pocketbook. “These are my numbers. Most days you can catch me on this number, but every second weekend I’m at the big house. I’m a two-two.”
Elizabeth smiled and turned her attention to the other ninth-grader, and gasped. An involuntary shudder ran down her spine. The face that stared back at her was so like her own - from the smooth tanned skin to the dimple in her left cheek. Elizabeth took a step back, and the girl’s eyes bored into hers like a glittering knife.
“I’m Margo,” rasped the girl. “Margo Pike.”
* * *
Elizabeth tossed and turned that night, unable to sleep. She was missing Jessica terribly, and she couldn’t stop thinking about the strange new student. But most of all, her thoughts were occupied by the poor receptionist from the News. Fancy growing up without a mother - and with a hippie stepmother at that! Elizabeth felt a pang of yearning for her hometown as she thought of the soothing arms of her own mother, Alice, an interior designer, who was more like a big sister than a parent. Finally she tossed off her baby blue comforter. She wished Todd was awake - she could really use an ear right now.
* * *
On Thursday at noon, Todd drove up to the Stoneybrook News Building, just a ten minute drive through the quiet neighbourhood from the school where he worked. He had an hour’s lunch break with no playground duty, and was determined to take Elizabeth out for lunch at Burger Bite. He’d even bought a bouquet of yellow daisies, her favourite.
He sauntered into the small office, the acrid smell of fresh ink mingling with the bitter fumes of instant coffee.
“Elizabeth Wakefield?” he asked the mousy receptionist. The brunette looked up from the fax machine she was hunched over and managed a small smile.
“You must be Todd,” she stated, blushing. She motioned toward Liz’s office timidly.
“Todd!” cried his girlfriend as he entered the room. She flung her arms around his neck. Well, this was a nice surprise. A bit more of the old Liz and less of this uptight prude he’d been living with. Oh, wait.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she continued, without taking a breath. “I’ve invited Mary-Anne out for lunch with us. Her boyfriend, Logan, is coming too.”
“But Liz,” he whined, “I thought it was just going to be us!” He’d been looking forward to sharing a salty-chocolate kiss with her over French fries.
“Todd!” she cajoled him, “Mary-Anne needs us - she’s not only super shy, but she has a stepmum. C’mon.” She whisked him away, and collected Mary-Anne at the desk.
“Bye Elizabeth,” someone chirped. She couldn’t decide if it was Mallory or Karen Brewer. She didn’t care - Todd was back under the thumb, she had a new project friend, and the office staff were definitely starting to warm to her. Stoneybrook wasn’t looking so bad after all.
Elizabeth almost skipped into the parking lot - but something made her turn around. She stopped short and scanned the concrete exterior of the newspaper office. And then she saw her - the raven-haired girl with the piercing blue eyes was staring at her from behind the bathroom window, her breath creating misty shapes across the frosted pane. Margo, Elizabeth breathed. The girl raised one hand in a mock wave. Elizabeth shuddered and clutched Todd’s tanned arm. She wasn’t in Sweet Valley anymore.
While Logan and MaryAnne were as loved-up as ever, the cracks in Elizabeth and Todd's relationship were starting to show
CHAPTER 2, New York or, “Jessica Takes Manhattan”
“I’ll have a vodka, lime and soda thanks. And can you make sure it’s a real lime, not cordial? - I have type I diabetes.”
Jessica Wakefield caught Lila Fowler’s gaze across the table and rolled her eyes. She’d been trying to snag the attention of the cute waiter for the past two hours, and now their new friend, Stacey McGill, was babbling on about her diabetes again. The trio was at New York’s hip new bar, Xenon, planning Lila’s upcoming 26th birthday bash and hunting for some eligible men. For the city that never sleeps, mused Jessica, there’s certainly a shortage of guys worth staying awake for.
“And you ladies?” The waiter turned his attention to Lila, who was picking at an imaginary thread on her YSL blazer. “The usual,” she sniffed indignantly, arching a perfectly tweezed brow.
A smile played on the waiter’s lips. “I don’t know what you’re used to, honey, but this is New York City. Your order?”
“Two cosmos,” Jessica cut in, flashing the waiter her most dazzling smile. He barely glanced at her. Her eyes narrowed as she slumped back on the bar stool. How she’d gone from one of LA’s most sought after socialites to a desperate wannabee-New-Yorker was beyond her. Back in Sweet Valley, Jessica Wakefield was hot property. Guys would be practically falling over each other to get a glimpse inside her mauve-walled bedroom on Calico drive, or to take her for a spin at the Beach Disco. She’d never have dreamed of going stag to the Plaza Cinema, and was rarely short on offers for Saturday night rendezvous at La Maison Jaques, or some of Sweet Valley’s other classy establishments.
But things had taken a turn for the worse when Jessica had hooked up with Jason Gorman, the brother of one of her high-school boyfriends, Christian. They’d met at a service marking the tenth anniversary of Christians’ tragic death in a school-yard fight, and Jessica had been swept away by his kindness and his warm blue eyes, so much like those that had melted her heart a decade ago. But their bond was based on a memory - two weeks into their affair she’d realized that it was the free-loving surfer Christian she wanted, not the shadow that was his brother. She was in love with a ghost. Jessica fought back a tear as the painful memory crashed over her. She’d managed to bounce back from the death of seven boyfriends in her short life, but now the anguish was beginning to take its toll.
Her identical twin, Elizabeth, had left for Stoneybrook, Conneticut just days before, and Jessica knew she needed a fresh start, away from suffocating Sweet Valley and the torment of its memories. So the next morning, a rainy Wednesday, Jessica had packed her twenty-six years into a D&G suitcase and taken the next flight to NYC. There she’d found herself hauled up in the back of a taxi crawling down Fourth Avenue. And that was where she’d met Stacey McGill, a stylish local with a high-paying accounting job at a prestigious firm.
It was Stacey who’d taken her in until she’d secured a poky apartment in downtown Manhattan. Stacey who’d stifled a giggle when she’d ordered a fill-it-mig-num at the Hard Rock Café, who’d shown her everything from the lights of Broadway to the Central Park carousel. And it was Stacey who’d been there that day she’d taken the plunge, applied for an ABN and set up her own business in the vacant upstairs of a seedy Italian café: “Wakefield Designs.”
Making the break from Sweet Valley had been tough, though it had nothing on convincing Lila to leave the sheltered opulence of Fowler Crest and join her fledgling company. But somehow, the wealthy heiress had found it in her heart to whip over to NYC in a heartbeat, and fund Jessica’s latest bright idea.
With Stacey managing the finances, and a kid called Marilyn Arnold answering the phones, Wakefield Designs was enjoying moderate success.
“Jessica!” A warm, familiar voice jolted her from her reverie.
She turned toward the voice and her eyes lit up.
“Steven!” she gasped.
Before her stood her older brother - still as handsomely chiseled as ever, though the dark circles under his eyes and slight recession of his hairline suggested that his recent divorce from childhood sweetheart Billie Winkler was taking its toll.
He reached over and playfully ruffled his younger sister’s sun-streaked hair. “What’s up kiddo?”
It was nice to see Steven out having fun for a change - since he’d taken over the New York branch of his father’s law firm, Steven had done nothing but work. Jessica marveled at how anyone, let alone her gorgeous brother, could spend 60 plus hours a week in a stuffy office, doing whatever it was that lawyers did. It was little wonder that Billie had up and left the Big Apple to return to Sweet Valley. Jessica had been as surprised as everyone, though, that a couple as perfect as Steven and Billie would end up like this - Billie wanting kids, and Steven relentlessly pursuing his career. And now Jessica would never be an Aunt!
Stacey wriggled over to let Steven have a seat. “Cocktail?” she asked pleasantly, raising her voice to be heard above the blaring techno music.
Steven cleared his throat and glanced awkwardly at his sister. “Actually, I’m uh, meeting someone over by the bar in five.”
“A date?’ That got Lila’s attention. She and Steven had enjoyed a brief fling during her junior year at SVH, after a pyromaniac called John Pfeifer had burned down a wing of Fowler Crest.
“I guess you could call it that,” mumbled Steven.
Jessica grinned. Maybe this was just what her brother needed to get out of the dumps. Playing the field had always worked well for Jessica, who couldn’t see the sense in restricting herself to one guy when there were billions out there - but Steven had always considered himself something of a monogamist. However, just as the thought crossed her scheming mind, a tall, busty brunette with a shock of red lipstick wandered over and pecked Steven on the cheek. She looked pretty enough, thought Jessica, but her cleavage left little to the imagination, and her black patent slingbacks were totally passé.
“Are these your friends, Steve?” cooed the girl, perching on his lap. She looked at Jessica and screwed up her face in a fake smile. She couldn’t be a day over twenty. “I’m Charlotte.”
“Charlotte?” repeated Stacey, surprised. “Oh my gosh -Charlotte Johannsen?” She leaned forward in her seat.
The brunette stared blankly back at her. “Do I know you?” Her voice was pleasant but vacant.
“I’m Stacey - Stacey McGill - I babysat for you in Stoneybrook when you were a kid! I barely recognized you!”
Charlotte smiled back at her. “Of course. Lovely to see you Stacey.” She turned her attention back to Steven. “Betsy and Cokie are waiting for us by the main bar - shall we join them?”
Stacey reclined back on the hard stool, feeling dejected. That was it? All those middle-school parties and dances she’d given up to hang out with a bunch of eight-year-olds and this was how her favorite sitting charge remembered her? Stacey thought back to the hours she’d spent with the shy, intelligent kid from Stoneybrook elementary - reading Little Women and trawling through the kid-kit while her mother was too busy screwing consultants at Stoneybrook hospital to pay her any attention. She fought back a tear as she watched Charlotte link arms with Jessica’s brother and glide into Xenon’s loud main bar. She’d be barely nineteen years old, even now - did Dr J know, or care, that her only daughter was slutting around NYC underage? And with a guy of nearly 30, at that!
Stacey turned to her new friends and made a face. Suddenly, she didn’t feel like that extra cocktail. All that glucose was messing up her insulin levels, anyhow. Jessica was glowering in her brother’s direction and shaking her head. Stacey knew what she was thinking - a miserable Steven definitely beat a Steven who was tapping that jailbait.
“I thought your love life had hid the skids, Jess,” smirked Lila, “but your cradle-snatching brother has taken the cake.”
Jessica snatched her leather purse off the table and downed the last of her cosmopolitan. She was about to make a snappy remark to her friend when suddenly, an overwhelming sense of dread overcame her. She shuddered involuntarily as a chill settled in her chest like a steely knife. She knew this feeling - it was the one she’d had that fatal night of the junior prom, when a drunken Elizabeth had gotten in the car with her boyfriend, Sam Woodruff. It was the feeling that had overcome her when Liz had been trapped in a hovel by a crazed orderly from Fowler Memorial Hospital, and when a cruel look-a-like had come to Sweet Valley and tried to usurp her place in the Wakefield family. Jessica gasped and reached for her keys. Her twin was in trouble.
“You ok, Jess?” Stacey squeezed her hand. “I’m sure your brother’s just on the rebound. Give it a week.” An only child herself, Stacey would never know the psychic bond identical twins shared, even when they were on opposite sides of the country. Jessica pulled out her Blackberry and punched in the number she knew so well. “Pick up, Lizzie,” she pleaded.
“You’ve reached Elizabeth Wakefield’s mobile,” said the unflappable voice on the other end. “I can’t take your call right now but please leave me a voicemail.”
“Lizzie it’s me, pick up!” Jessica cried. She hit redial and heard a rustle on the other end. “Lizzie?”
She was met by a harsh, mocking laugh that sent conniptions down her spine. “Lizzie isn’t in,” cackled the voice. “You’ve reached Margo.”
***
Twenty-six year old Elizabeth Wakefield hummed the latest Colleen Dunstan song as she dropped her opinion piece on the editor’s desk. She was in high spirits that night, looking forward to heading out on a double date with her new friends, Mary-Anne and Logan.
“Thank-you, Elizabeth,” said Tina, the editor. She smiled warmly. “I’m looking forward to reading this - keep up the great work.”
Elizabeth’s heart soared. Although things had been difficult for her since her move to Stoneybrook, all her hard work was finally paying off.
“Oh and Elizabeth - ” called Tina, “It’s almost eight. Why don’t you knock off for the night? I don’t want to see you burning yourself out.”
Elizabeth wandered back to her desk and stifled a yawn. She had to pick herself up before she headed off to Burger Bite with Todd and their friends.
She rustled up the contents of her desk. Handbag. Check. Journal. Check. Secret Diary. Check. Now where the hell was her phone?
Outside, Todd’s black BMW pulled into a parking space. She could hear the Beach Boys blaring from the car stereo. He beeped impatiently. “I’m coming!” she yelled out the open window.
“That’s what she said!” a voice called from the other room. It was Shannon Kilbourne, the office’s fill-in, and a regular crack-up.
Elizabeth grabbed her sensible black cardigan off the filing cabinet. “Bye all!” She called to the nearly-deserted office as she hurried down the fire escape stairs. Todd was getting seriously impatient lately. She slid into the passenger seat and gave her boyfriend a quick peck on the cheek, and he smiled wearily at her. Elizabeth melted as she glanced at Todd’s handsome side profile, and the lean forearms that gripped the steering wheel. He smelled differently tonight - a combination of his regular cologne and something Elizabeth couldn’t quite put her finger on. She yawned and tried to relax as they headed towards Stoneybrook Mall, thinking of all the conversations she would have with Mary-Anne. The night was young.
***.
Karen Brewer smiled nervously as Seth dropped her off at the Pikes’ split-level home.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come in, sweetie?” said her stepfather.
“N..No,” she stammered. “I’ll be fine.” She wriggled on her hot pink backpack and slid out of the car. She was beginning to doubt whether hanging out with the popular kids was such a good idea. Since trading in Hannie and Nancy for Margo Pike and her band of followers, Karen had begun to miss spending Friday nights in playing My Little Pony and Let’s All Come In. Still, this was probably the only available route remaining for her to get the attention of Ricky Torres.
“Karen’s here!” she heard a voice groan. It sounded like Pamela Harding.
“Bring her in,” someone else slurred, probably Margo. There were muffled snickers as the front door was whisked open. Karen straightened her denim overalls and smiled.
“Hey guys!” She chirped. “Mind if I put down my bag? I have Oreos in there.” She plunked it down on the oriental rug, suddenly very aware of the Bratz doll on the front of it.
She glanced around the living room, which was lined with empty beer cans and cigarette butts. Eight girls from her ninth-grade class were sprawled on the carpet, and an R-rated DVD was playing on the Pike’s widescreen. Margo scowled at her and took a swig from a suspicious looking bottle. Vintage 1983, it read. Karen gasped. Alcohol.
“So now that Karen’s here,” began Margo, “I vote that we start a game of truth or dare.”
“Hell Yeah!” echoed Myriah Perkins, taking a sip of her bourbon and coke.
Margo glared at her. “Settle, ‘Riah.” She turned her attention toward the other girls, now forming a circle around the living room. “And yes, I finished my dare from last week.”
“You got it?” Pamela asked, surprised. “You actually stole the phone from that judgmental blonde virgin from your office?” Murmurs of approval sounded around the room.
“Yep,” said Margo, proudly. “Idiot left her door open. That’s the last time she asks me to photocopy her monthly schedule.”
Karen looked positively pale. Getting into the Pike’s stash was bad enough but stealing someone else’s property? That was a crime!
“What’s a’matter, Brewer?” sneered Margo. “Afraid of a dare?” She winked at Amanda Delaney behind Karen’s back.
Karen sighed. She liked Elizabeth Wakefield. A lot in fact. With good looks, a job at the News and a dreamy boyfriend, Elizabeth was someone Karen totally wanted to emulate. Karen tugged at the golden lavaliere around her neck. But tonight was not the night to admit that - tonight was about the new Karen Brewer.
“Okay,” she said finally. “I’ll go first.” What was the worst they could do? Send her over to the Spier’s place on Burnt Hill Road with all the underground ghosts? Karen wasn’t afraid of ghosts. In fact, some of them were her friends.
Amanda and Margo exchanged knowing smiles. “You have to scull this glass of Jack Daniels. Now.”
Karen looked horrified. She looked at the foul brown liquid in horror and tried not to breathe as Margo shoved the full glass under her nose. What would Kristy do? Karen took the glass, shaking, and held it to her lips. She downed it in one go, and a wave of nausea crashed over her. She swallowed, hard, and suppressed a hiccup. The girls started to chant, and she felt a friendly shove on the back. “Brewer! Brewer! Brewer!” Karen relaxed for the first time that night. She had one foot through the door!
The stolen Iphone let out a dull ring, but the girls ignored it.
“Alright Karen,” it was Margo. She was spinning around in front of her. In fact, so was the entire room. “Give someone a dare.”
“Myriah,” said Karen. “I want you to go over the road and knock on Morbidda Destiny’s door.”
“Morbidda fucking who?” Amanda cracked up.
Myriah broke into a giggle. “Clothed?” she asked in a hushed voice.
The phone rang again, and this time Margo picked it up. “Lizzie isn’t in,” she rasped. “You’ve reached Margo.” She hung up, and the girls rolled around the floor, laughing. Even Karen started to giggle. This Margo chick was pretty cool - her creepy voice would give even Morbidda a run for her money. Karen took a sip from a half-empty can of beer and settled in on the floor. If only Ricky Torres could see her now.