* Photo credit to The Closet *
Clinging to Lila Fowler is the impoverished Roger Barrett, who is trying to gaze pleadingly at Lila, but appears to be looking just behind her. If only he’d put on his poor-people glasses!
It takes us DAYS to get to the Roger-luvs-Lila storyline, which revolves around something called the Bart dance. It’s “a big event on the Sweet Valley High social scene” (aren’t all the dances?) that follows the “annual running of the Barton Ames Memorial Mile.”
As I’ve mentioned, Roger is in love with Lila, even though Lila is nothing but cruel to him. She sees him running down the hall at top speed and remarks, “Here comes Bugs Bunny.” Huhzawha? She later explains that she calls him such “‘Cause he bugs me.” ::slap slap::
Roger wears cheap high-water jeans and is described so awkwardly, I can see why Lila’s not into him. He makes Winston Egbert sound like a shirtless Henry Cavill. Ugh, this whole crush is so stupid that I can’t believe a whole book was devoted to it.
The reason why Roger’s so weird is because he’s super poor and secretly works at a janitor at the Wakefield law office after school. Not even his best friend, Olivia Davidson, art editor for The Oracle, knows that Roger’s mom is too sick to hold a steady job and his dad is too drunk, so Roger’s stuck paying their rent. But even though he doesn’t confide in Olivia, you know that they have a special bond because he notices when she wears a new skirt. I WONDERING WHERE THIS IS HEADING!
One day, busybody Elizabeth Wakefield notices Roger staring wistfully at the track. But even though Roger dashes around the school like a spaz, he hasn’t yet realized that running is a dream he should pursue—only Liz can see that! Liz is also the only one who knows he’s working as a janitor and insists that he runs, even though he’s all, “Jesus Christ, shut up!” You notice how people don’t actually confide in Liz—she actually just conveniently shows up at crucial moments and wrings their sordid tales out of them?
Lila overhears Liz annoying Roger, and she too insists that Roger run. He takes Lila’s advice to heart, even though she only said he should do it for her own amusement. Immediately, Roger shows up on the track in “faded army fatigue pants and a red T-shirt,” which is actually WILDLY FINE in my brain.
Bruce Patman hounds Roger for a while before running like a confident gazelle around the track. Roger lags behind, but then BOOYAH! He surprises everyone by running at the speed of a slowly moving comet. He wins the trial race, and everyone crowds around him like he just beat Crater Face at Thunder Road. Lila’s now all over him because, as Jessica Wakefield pointed out, the boy who wins the race will be popular.
But Roger’s joy is short-lived; he doubts he can actually be in the race because he has to work. But Principal Cooper calls him “my boy” and gives him an SVH warm-up suit (I want one!), and Lila wants to do him in it. (She also butters his lunch roll for him and thinks his Ms. Dalton impression is sooooo funny.)
Meanwhile, Olivia is seething with jealousy and longing. She spends her time avoiding Roger and writing envious poetry. Speaking of poetry, Lila ALSO writes Roger a poem:
Roger Barrett, a boy so fine.
His speedy running is so divine.
In school, too, he is very smart.
He’ll walk away with the trophy at the Bart.
In everything he operates at the highest stratum.
We at Sweet Valley are so proud to have him.
I’ve got no words. All I can choke out is, why would Lila ever think to use the word stratum?
One night, Roger bumps into Jessica at the law office when he’s cleaning floors. Shortly afterward, Lila begs Jess for help in bagging Roger. (Did she not already bag him? She was buttering his bread, for Christ’s sake.)
Even though Jess knows that her friend would never knowingly date “a poverty-stricken janitor,” she suggests that Lila throw a pre-dance party and invite Roger as her escort. Little does Lila know, Jess plans on casually revealing that Roger’s been cleaning toilets, and then SHE’LL be the star of the party. Did I think this moronically when I was sixteen?
Roger tells Lila that he can’t run in the race and why, and Lila “couldn’t hide the feeling of disgust that began to run through her.” Now that the truth is out in the open, Roger begins to take pride in himself, although Lila wants “nothing to do with” his pesky integrity. The stars and planets align, allowing him to run in the race and recognize that Olivia is bae. He asks her, “How could I have missed…the love in your eyes?” GAG! I think I just threw up.
Roger wins the race and makes a new Bart record. No one can do anything halfway at Sweet Valley. Lila’s all, “I want you, come to my party,” but he’s all, “Can’t.” Then he smooches Olivia “firmly yet tenderly.” TRIUMPH!
Secondary plot! Ever since that whole Bill Chase biznazz happened, Jess is through with striving for fame (for this week, anyway). She’s moved on, people: Now she wants to be a lawyer, just like Daddy! She demands that her father give her an after school job at his law firm, even though Liz is annoyingly suspicious: “I just can’t help wondering if this new focus on a career is only something to occupy your time while you’re between boys.” Even if that’s true, SO WHAT? Shut up, Liz.
Jess imagines herself skipping law school altogether and heading straight into the courtroom. However, she’s stuck copying and collating and being bossed around by her father’s office manager. (Straight-faced, she wonders “what act of desperation had made her father hire this tyrant.”)
She’s about to give up and quit after an hour until she sees a hot guy—of course—named Dennis Creighton, and they get to flirting about purses. Dennis’s dad has the rival law office across the way, and he goes to a rival school. OMG, Romeo and Juliet of the law industry, you guys!
Jess stays late at the office so Dennis can nibble her neck, and Liz has nothing better to do than spy on them. Elizabeth has zero misgivings about stalking her sister for really no reason at all. Shut UP, Liz!
Jess thinks it’s a matter of time before Dennis asks her to the Bart, even though all he wants to do is grope her after hours on the copier. Recognize, Jess! When Jess complains that he never takes her out, Dennis admits, “I don’t actually have a car…’cuz I just turned fifteen.” DOOM! And all along Jess thought he was close to eighteen. Jess rejects him, which makes sense; I’m a little grossed out picturing a fifteen-year-old neck-nibbling, myself.
Other Notes
- Elizabeth says to Jess, “You usually spend Sunday mornings between the sheets.” I’m not touching that one.
- Another “I’d prefer to date outside my species” remark, this time spoken by Lila!: “I’d rather date a fish.” Girl, that says more about you than it does Roger.
- Why the hell was this story written again?
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