Oh, my goodness—there’s so much to love/hate about this cover. Suzanne Devlin is clearly a real piece of work. She doesn’t even do vain things like this in the story—she’s just a psychopath! And I love Elizabeth Wakefield’s face—she’s like, “Did you just fart?”
Note: Get used to these covers—the ones where Liz is hovering around a minor character, looking condescending or sympathetic. Shun. Liz hate.
For no valid reason whatsoever, Ned Wakefield’s old college roommate calls and suggests that his daughter, Suzanne, visit the Wakefields while one of the twins visits their place in NYC. Of course Ned’s all about it, although if a dude from college calls 20 years later to ask to daughter-swap, you should probably hang up.
But which twin should go to New York? Jessica Wakefield is prepared to give up her college career and earn a living as a fortuneteller for the opportunity to dance with Mick Jagger at a NYC disco. Despite that plan’s initial dumbness, it does sound kind of fun. But after a coin toss, Liz is the one who gets to go. To ease Jess’s pain and suffering, Liz offers to lend her her culottes. However, Liz ultimately gives up her two-week vacation because of boyfriend Todd Wilkins and the Oracle. Liz, you’re a bore.
So Jess gets to go to NYC while Liz says things to her sister like, “You may have New York, but remember, I have Todd.” I’m…sorry? It sounds like condolences are in order. “Her sense of adventure and fun was far different from Jessica’s.” As in, Jess has one.
Gorgeous Suzanne charms the whole Wakefield clan by doing the dishes, cleaning the kitchen, and helping Steven Wakefield varnish his canoe. (Go back to college, dude!) Everyone at SVH is also in awe of her, especially Winston “Let’s Name Our Son ‘Kick Me In The Ass’” Egbert, who serenades with her his guitar while the ghostwriter attempts to write him as gross and mangy as possible.
There’s a teen picnic near the lake that Mr. goddamn Collins attends as the sole adult, acting as a “chaperone and unofficial lifeguard” and eliciting another Robert Redford reference. Get a life, Mr. C! One that doesn’t revolve around teens, preferably. Did SVH check his background before hiring him?
Well, thank goodness he was the unofficial lifeguard there; Suzanne would’ve drowned in the lake otherwise. He acts weird afterward, like she attempted to touch him in his bathing suit area. Liz thinks something’s up because Suzanne was such a good swimmer the other day. How like Liz to be suspicious of a drowning victim.
But then Liz’s precious lavaliere necklace goes missing! Suzanne offers to help her find it, but just seconds later, she sticks her hand in her pocket and fingers “the gold necklace that lay coiled inside”! It appears that Suzanne was too good to be true!
The truth is soon revealed: Suzanne thinks everyone in the “hick town” is a dumb ass. Well, yes. She later comes on to Mr. Collins at his house when she drops off some Oracle stuff on Liz’s behalf. A vaguely erotic scene ensues during which Suzanne drinks from the hose, letting the water “dribble down her chin until the front of her thin T-shirt was soaked, making it cling to her very brief bikini top.” Meanwhile, Mr. C—clad in only white jogging shorts and a red bandana to keep his goddamn Robert Redford hair out of his eyes—looks on and likely fights the urge to be inappropriate.
Suzanne takes over one of Liz’s babysitting gigs at Mr. C’s to watch his son Teddy, and Mr. C is all sorts of anxious about it, and with good reason. The second he’s gone, Suzanne ignores the kid—after all, “hadn’t she taken care of herself during all these years of being shipped off to boarding schools?” She goes through all of Mr. C’s stuff and doesn’t even find a Playboy—for a divorced dude before the Internet age, I don’t buy it.
When Mr. C comes home, Suzanne tries to jump down his pants but he rejects her. Suzanne is so pissed off that she goes back to the Wakefields’ and tells Liz that Mr. C tried to rape her, and he winds up getting fired. Who taught these girls to cry rape to get their way? That’s seriously fucked up. Yet everyone falls for it, every time.
Lila Fowler has a birthday party, but everyone decides to use the money they were going to buy Lila a present with for a going-away gift for Suzanne instead, reasoning, “[Lila’s] rich, she won’t care,” even though Suzanne’s rich, too. When Suzanne leaves for the party with Aaron Dallas, Liz puts the going-away present in Suzanne’s suitcase—and finds her lost necklace! Liz and Todd compare Suzanne to Cathy from East of Eden, and Liz says that even Jessica has never done anything “really bad” like this, even though Jess has done literally everything Suzanne has done.
Liz and Todd go to Mr. C’s, where he is of course “unshaven,” reminding us of his tragic unemployment. He tells them the truth, and Liz is so relieved that she kisses his stubbled cheek, probably making it the shining moment in all his life.
Liz confronts Suzanne at the party and actually calls her a loser, which makes me laugh. Suzanne flips out at the idea of Elizabeth Wakefield, of all people, thinking she sucks at life and tells Cara Walker that Liz is insane. Seriously. And everyone buys it! Seriously! These kids are such cattle.
Liz demands that Suzanne stop telling lies about her just as Winston “accidentally” spills punch on Suzanne’s nice white dress. Suzanne completely loses it in front of everybody, and they all realize what a monster she is. Then she cries her first real tears in years!
On the flip side of the country, Jess is faring no better. The Devlins are either frosty to her or absent, and Suzanne’s friends are impossible to relate to: They drink champagne and talk about the stock market. And Jessica actually gets drunk with them! If this happened in Sweet Valley, she’d be crucified.
Jess attempts to seduce Suzanne’s boyfriend, Pete, who is the epitome of sophistication. After all, he calls Suzanne’s parents by their first names! He finds Horowitz’s recording of Chopin’s Polonaise in A major to be a bit on the dry side!
But unlike the boys in Sweet Valley, who are “like lumps of wet clay in her hands,” Pete isn’t sucked in by Jess’s charms nor her California hotness. Maybe everyone outside of Sweet Valley is immune to her, which is a comforting thought. However, after a carriage ride around Central Park, they finally kiss, but “it quickly became apparent that Pete had much more in mind than kissing.” Jesus Christ. What does Jess ever have in mind? This is getting beyond old. She even resorts to fucking blaming Elizabeth for being so quick to switch places with her. Gimme a break.
Just then, the Devlins come home, mid-sexual assault, and banish Pete from their kingdom. What’s the running tally so far for Jess deftly inserting herself into a compromising position? I’m too exhausted to figure it out.
Other Notes:
- Liz is called “fairness personified.” ::HURL::
- At one point, Alice Wakefield bemoans, “Maybe I’m just old-fashioned, but I think children belong at home until they’re ready for college.” Why? Because they’re more fun to ignore when they’re in close vicinity? Shut up, Alice.
- Liz thinks her best friend, Enid Rollins, has “a prettiness that was all her own.” Oh, just say it, Liz! You think your best friend is a fuggo!
- Liz and Todd have irritating make-out conversations like this:
[smooch]
TODD: Are you gonna be all right?
LIZ: I don’t know. I may need more mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
[smooch]
TODD: Any better?
LIZ: I’ll tell you when I’ve had enough.
TODD: Slave driver.
Ugh. Bye, lunch.
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