Bittersweet Dreams by V.C. Andrews

Author:V.C. Andrews
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pocket Books

12

When my phone rang that night, I thought there was a real possibility that it was Alan Taylor. I had given him my private phone number because I had hoped he would be calling me to arrange our next rendezvous. I had explained that he could risk a phone call because I had my privacy at home. When we had walked on the beach, I had talked about my life after my mother had died and especially after my father had remarried. By the time the evening was over, Alan certainly knew what I thought of Julie and how disappointed I had been in my father for marrying her and catering to her so much. During our dinner, I had described how little I had to do with her and even with my father at this point. I’d made it sound as if I lived in my own cave in our house.

Maybe he was calling to explain his behavior toward me in school, I thought. I was ready to accept any excuse and believe any reason he had, as long as it wouldn’t prevent us from seeing each other again. Our lovemaking had been the centerpiece of my daydreaming.

I practically tore the receiver off the cradle, but as soon as I heard the voice of the caller, my heart felt like it had dropped into a sinkhole. It wasn’t Alan. It was Joy, my new best friend whether I liked it or not. I had followed through on one promise to her. I had gotten her a good deal of information about anorexia, its symptoms, causes, and treatment. There was even a list of possible therapists in the area. I had put stars next to the names of the ones I thought might be most helpful. She had promised she would give it all to her mother, and I gave her my private phone number in case she or her mother had to ask me a question about any of it. Now I regretted it.

“How are you?” she asked.

“I saw you today, Joy. You know how I am. I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not, Mayfair,” she said with uncharacteristic authority. “Is something else bothering you?”

“Why would you ask that?”

She was quiet.

“Were you watching me again, following me all day?”

I wondered if she had seen how many times I deliberately passed Alan Taylor’s classroom and how I looked toward him, anticipating some personal recognition. If she had seen my face, she might have noticed my disappointment. Was she smart enough to suspect anything?

“I just want to be able to do something for you,” she said. “You’re trying to do something for me. My mother was impressed with the information you gave me. We had a talk. She admitted other people have said something to her about me. I will be seeing someone, one of the names you put a star next to.”

“Good. Good luck.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you sure there’s nothing going on? Are those girls annoying you? Did someone say something to you, Carlton James or anyone?”

“No, and if they did, it wouldn’t bother me at all.

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