* Photo credit to The Closet *
What the hell? That was my first impression of this cover, and I repeated these words once I read the back. Brace yourself: This is your warning that this is probably the most awful SVH book I’ve ever read. Really.
That little weasel with the lady hands next to Jess is Ronnie Edwards, the dude who dumped Enid Rollins because he essentially thought he was too good for her druggie past. Wow, Enid, I’m sorry, in so many ways. I bet Winston Egbert is a bigger stud than this dorkaroo. (Is Winston ever depicted on an SVH cover? If no, why not? Sigh—the injustice of it all.)
Allow me to just read a bit of teaser in the back so you can see what a ridonculous time you’re in for:
Ronnie Edwards is having the time of his life. By betting successfully on high school sports, he’s made more than he knows what to do with… Unfortunately, he hasn’t been keeping up with payments to his bookie, Big Al…
Okay, I’ll just stop right there. This is obnoxious! “Big Al”? Bookies? Really? Dear God. This story is proof Francine Pascal has never taken her readers seriously.
So there’s all this soccer hoopla at SVH like the Gladiators are Manchester United, and Jeffrey French is their David Beckham. Jeffrey—Aside: I’m weirded-out by him going by “Jeffrey” all the time—wins the game against the Palisades Pumas and everyone wants to make love to him. When they’re all celebrating Jeffrey’s awesomeness at the Dairi Burger, Ronnie Edwards strolls up to the table, offers to pay for everyone’s meal with the big wad of money he’s flapping around, and brags about his “connections.” Hawk-eye Elizabeth notices a group of “surly-looking” dudes staring at Ronnie as he does so, and knew to stay away from them because of their “sunglasses, beard stubble, and leather jackets.” FRIGHTENING! They sound like total foxes. The dudes—Big Al’s yesmen—lure Ronnie out in the parking lot and they make him scream like a girl, and Elizabeth commands Jeffrey save him. And Jeffrey—a teenager who looks like a total wussbag—somehow manages to scare away three adult gangsters. The whole thing repulses me.
I really think Ronnie Edwards was written to be the most annoying person ever. I read this thinking, “Why should I have any sort of pity for this dude?” He confesses, “My whole life, I’ve never been able to fight. When somebody threatens me, I’m a basket case. People think I’m so tough, but I can’t even talk tough, let alone hurt anyone!” Of course, he had no problems shit-talking Enid. After Jeffrey saves him from the would-be pummeling, Ronnie stalks him around school, calling him “Jeff,” kissing his ass, and basically driving everyone insane, especially Elizabeth, who makes the situation of Ronnie hanging around her boyfriend HER problem: “Frankly, I can think of better people you could spend your time with.” It’s all about you, Liz, right.
Anyway, Jeffrey’s all stressed out because he thinks he’s going to flunk his science test and then not be allowed to play in The Big Game. (This is later resolved when Mr. Russo—being a soccer fanatic—gives the jocks a special privilege by letting them take the test early so they’ll be able to play the game without worrying about distractions. Oh, thank heavens!) Meanwhile, Ronnie’s in deep shit with Big Al and is running around asking his friends to borrow money, but he doesn’t have any friends, so he comes up with about two cents. Big Al makes some threatening phone calls, and I’m surprised the ghostwriter doesn’t just have him come right out and say “sleeping with the fishes in cement galoshes” or some other gangster line. Big Al demands that Ronnie fix the upcoming championship soccer game, and Ronnie then asks Jeffrey to make sure that Sweet Valley doesn’t win by more than two points. Ronnie’s all, “You can’t do this to me! You’re my only chance!” Ugh. How freaking dare he, man. Plus, why should we WANT Jeffrey to help him anyway? He’s irritating.
Ronnie cries, begs, and sheds any remaining scrap of his pesky dignity for Jeffrey to throw the game until Jeffrey says yes, which of course he does. Jeffrey doesn’t want to tell Liz about the situation, but of course she asks about it 800 million times and makes it her new life mission to find out what Ronnie wants of Jeffrey. She’s nearly as annoying as Ronnie himself and stresses Jeffrey out by telling him that there’s going to be talent scout from Branford College (what? You mean there’re schools out there instead of SVU?) watching him. UGH—and then, when Jeffrey finally caves and tells her what’s going on, she folds her arms and acts like a psychopath: “I just don’t understand how you could even think of doing something like that, Jeffrey, betraying the team, taking Ronnie’s responsibility on your shoulders…” Betraying the team? I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again: SHUT THE FUCK UP, LIZ!
During The Big Game (which Jeffrey is effing up), Liz sees Ronnie leave with a shady-looking guy and decides to follow them to an abandoned warehouse, where Ronnie gets all tied up. Liz tries to go for help, but gets captured as well. She remains calm, though, because she’s a pro in hostage situations. Considering she winds up in those predicaments because she can’t mind her own business, you’d think she’d learn. Liz distracts the shady guy while Ronnie cracks him over the head with a beer bottle. They call the cops and run back to the game to tell Jeffrey that everything’s going to be A-OK (after Ronnie suffers through a lecture on gambling from Miss Wakefield—thanks for that), and the scout from Bradford ends up wanting to make love to Jeffrey too. Why didn’t anyone just call the cops to begin with? Would that have made too much sense?
As an aside, Jessica starts making her own jewelry out of feathers and beads and the like, which is really teenage-y of her. She wants to sell her creations, so she prances over to the boutique, Treasure Island, which requests more of her work to sell. But Jess doesn’t have the supplies for it and goes to ask Ronnie for a huge loan. (Hence, her on the cover wearing a massive earring.) When that doesn’t work, she goes crying to Alice, who lends her the credit card, and Jess charges a thousand dollars worth of supplies, only to be told by Treasure Island that they won’t be carrying her faux pearl earrings after all. Now Ned and Alice are all sorts of pissed and insist that Jess get a part-time at Treasure Island. Why didn’t Jess just ask Lila Fowler for the money? I’m sure Lila has a thousand dollar-bill lying around. She probably powders her nose with one.
Other Notes:
- I read the back cover to my co-worker, who is kind enough to humor me and my rants about SVH, and he was all,“Wha— That doesn’t even make sense! You go [through] a bookie to place bets / take your money when you win. There are no ‘payments’ in sports betting unless you lose, and even then, if he ‘made more than he knows what to do with,’ his ‘bookie’ would gladly have ‘forgiven his debts’ due to the bookie making an extraordinary amount of money off of his bets, as well. I guess the logic police were on break when the author banged this one out…”
- You can apparently smoke in the Dairi Burger. WHAT? The twins and the gang would actually go to a place where there’re cigarettes in the vicinity?
- He has no friends whatsoever, and yet Ronnie’s in Phi Epsilon. How? Why?
- Ronnie’s code name for when he calls Big Al is “Smallfry.” Now that’s a penis-withering name if I’ve ever heard one.
- Mr. Edwards knows all about Ronnie’s gambling problem and his dealings with Big Al, but does absolutely nothing about it. No wonder why Ronnie’s such a wuss—he learned it from Daddy. Actually, Daddy probably wants Ronnie out of his hair just as much as everyone else does.
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