Broken Angel (Sweet Valley High Sr. Year(TM)) - Softcover

Pascal, Francine

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0553492829 ISBN 13: 9780553492828

Publisher: Sweet Valley, 1999

Synopsis

Tia can do this.

She should say good-bye to Angel, the love of her life.

She should say, "See ya later! Have fun at college. Don't forget me!"

But it would be so much easier to say, "Stay."

And maybe he would. Maybe he'd give up everything for her....

But is that what she really wants?

About this title

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Jessica Wakefield
2:24 A.M.

It's really late.  For three and a half hours all I've done is stare at the glowing red numbers on my digital clock.  If I don't get to sleep soon, I'm going to be walking around school tomorrow looking like someone left me in the microwave too long.

I hate hurting people.

I should just go to sleep.  Tomorrow I'll straighten everything out.  There's really nothing to worry about because I haven't done anything wrong.  Jeremy has to understand.

But if I haven't done anything wrong, why do I feel so guilty?
Tia Ramirez
2:27 A.M.

When Angel didn't show up to hang out with me and Conner, I was so mad.  I'd spent the early evening on emergency baby-sitting duty, and all I wanted to do was to kick back with my best friend and my boyfriend and relax, but Angel was a no-show.

I figured they'd called him to work a shift after the riot and he'd forgot to tell me.  After all, that's all he's been doing lately--work like it's the only way we can spend time together is if I buy a drink from him.

Then Conner brings me to the track to look for him.  I thought he was out of his mind.  No way would Angel be hanging out there with all the lowlifes.  Not my boyfriend.

But there he was.  And that wasn't the worst part.  I had no idea what I was in for.
Conner McDermott
2:29 A.M.

Angel has that blank stare.

I've seen it before, on my mother.

Whenever I catch her with a drink in her hand.
Angel Desmond shifted on the hard wooden bleacher, staring at a crack in the floor between his feet. His girlfriend, Tia Ramirez, hovered over him, the bright racetrack lights combining with her form to cast a shadow over his face. He couldn't even lift his chin to meet her shocked, disappointed gaze. The guilt was too heavy.

Conner McDermott, the other friend who had shown up just in time to witness Angel's worst life moment, stood directly in front of Angel.

"When you say you lost all your money . . . what exactly do you mean by that?" Conner asked.

Now Angel was staring at Conner's beat-up work boots. "I mean I've lost everything," he replied, briefly glancing up at Conner's clouded green eyes. "My entire savings account is cleaned out. I have nothing." His voice diminished into a hoarse whisper.

"Please tell me this is some kind of sick joke," Tia demanded. Angel flinched at the harsh tone in her voice. Her brown eyes were wide, and her beautiful, olive skin had turned pale. "Answer me, Angel! Tell me what the hell happened!"

Angel fought the urge to run and hide, to streak off into the darkness as fast as his legs could propel him--faster, certainly, than any of the horses he'd bet on that night. At that moment he had no idea which was more painful: realizing the severity of his situation or seeing the devastated expression on Tia's face.

For as long as they'd been a couple, Angel had never seen her look at him this way. Like he was some kind of criminal instead of her boyfriend. It tore right into his heart. He wanted to say something--anything to soften that look.

"Tia," he began, aI . . . I . . ." Good, he thought. Very articulate.

Tia shook her head slowly. "You what?" she asked. "Say something!"

Angel stared down at the grimy floor, made colorful by a mosaic of scattered betting receipts. Hundreds of scraps of paper representing hundreds of wasted hopes--not to mention thousands of wasted dollars.

"I . . . I was on a streak!" he blurted out, realizing how lame his reply sounded. "Everything was just fine! But then my luck just . . . turned or something."

Tia let out an exasperated sigh and brought one hand to her forehead. "I don't get it," she said, glancing at Conner as if he held the answers. Conner just shook his head and looked away. "This isn't like you, Angel," Tia continued. "You would never, ever do something like this. I mean, what were you thinking? What?"

He opened his mouth to reply, then immediately closed it again. What could he say anyway? He hadn't been thinking--at least not effectively. There had only been an overwhelming hope that his bets would pay off, just like they had before. But there was no way he could explain all that.

Tia climbed down over the bleacher in front of Angel and stood next to Conner. "Talk to me! Make me understand!"

Angel just stared back at her, letting her angry words wash over him as Conner wandered off a bit.  Angel wished she would just go away. Who told them to show up anyway? Here he was in the middle of a living nightmare, and they had to walk in uninvited.

"You weren't here!" he said through clenched teeth. "I had it all under control!"

Tia's mouth fell open. "What does that mean? Obviously you didn't have it under control or you wouldn't be broke!"

"Hey, Tee," Conner said, walking over to her and placing his hand on her upper arm. Angel felt a slight sense of relief.

"What?" Tia snapped.

"Look, he already knows he screwed up royally," Conner replied calmly.

Gee, thanks, Angel thought. Way to stick up for me.

"But this doesn't make any sense!" Tia shouted, yanking her arm away from Conner. "There must be some mistake! You didn't actually lose all of your money, right? I mean, there's gotta be some left."

Angel felt as if she had shoved her hand through his chest and twisted his heart. He looked past her at the quiet racetrack. "I don't believe this!" she spat.

For a moment no one spoke. Angel could only hear the pounding of his heart and the whistling of a nearby janitor. Eventually Tia grabbed his shoulder and turned him around to face her.

"What are you going to do now?" she asked shakily.

The question reverberated through Angel's head. What could he do? Obviously turning back time was not an option. Other than that, he was fresh out of ideas.

Angel sighed heavily. "I'm going to the rest room," he mumbled. Then he stood shakily and climbed the bleachers before Tia could say anything further.

"Hey, pal. We're closed," one of the employees called out gruffly.

"Don't worry," Angel answered. "Just give me two seconds and I'll be out of here." Forever, he added silently.

He pushed through the squeaky door of the bathroom and took a deep breath of the foul-smelling air. Every step echoed off the tile walls as he made his way over to the line of sinks. He imagined himself a prisoner, taking his final walk to the gas chamber and certain death. Not too far off the mark, he thought. In a few hours I'll have to face Dad.

Angel turned on the cold faucet and splashed his face with handfuls of icy water. He wanted to wake himself up--to somehow dissolve the nightmare around him. But it didn't work. He was still there. Still broke. Still left without a future. The nightmare was real.

He turned off the tap and stood up straight, staring at his face in the mirror. His bloodshot eyes stared back, and droplets of water ran down his cheeks like heavy perspiration. He watched as they zigzagged around the thick stubble on his chin before faring into the sink below.

No wonder Tia's looking at me that way, he thought. I look like a crazed asylum escapee.

If only. That would make everything easier to explain. He could tells his parents he'd temporarily lost his sanity and ended up squandering his future at the track. At least then he'd have something to blame it on. Something besides his own stupidity.

Angel's throat tightened as he thought about all the times he'd overheard his father bragging to his customers about how "his boy" was going to Stanford. And just a few days earlier his mother had surprised him with a Stanford University sweatshirt--a really expensive one. Now that money was squandered too.

"You let them down, man," he said to his reflection. "Mom and Dad believed in you, and you let them down."

How in the world was he going to tell them? If Tia could freak this much, how would his folks react? Would they scream and yell? Throw knives? Banish him from the house?

It doesn't matter, he thought, dabbing his face with a paper towel. Whatever they do to me, I deserve it.

About this edition

• Publisher: Sweet Valley
• Publication date: 1999
• ISBN 10: 0553492829
• ISBN 13: 9780553492828
• Binding: Paperback
• Number of pages: 192