* Photo credit to The Closet *
It’s just too weird to be reading the last Sweet Valley High book. I must say, I’m impressed with the stamina I showed in reaching my goal. I have done what I set out to do, even if it meant sacrificing a few brain cells in the process. Finally, I can read real books and be smart again. And, I can now say with no hesitation and full authority, “That is the stupidest story I ever heard—and I’ve read the entire Sweet Valley High series.”
Because the Wakefield home looks like it was sent through a wood chipper, all the Wakefields are staying with the Fowlers, who were kind enough to open their gold-gilded double doors to them. However, Liz gets nasty about how the Fowlers live in unabashed luxury and talk when she’s trying to watch the news. Then go live at the shelter, you ungrateful brat. Ugh—Liz. There’s someone I won’t miss.
If you haven’t already guessed, Liz made it through the earthquake alive—some mysterious stranger rescued her and Enid Rollins from certain doom, and they’re both convinced it was Devon Whitelaw, when it so totally was not. That loser totally bailed, and keeps proudly referring to himself as a “survivor,” yet he awkwardly accepts Enid and Liz’s heaps of credit and praise since Liz can’t remember the truth. (I’ve never seen a girl more susceptible to amnesia in my life.) This guy is a whole tool shed. Maria Slater swears up and down to Liz that she saw Devon run away, leaving Liz to her fate, and Liz refuses to believe it, although she starts to remember disturbing details when Maria hypnotizes her.
Meanwhile, Jess wrestles with her guilt over not rescuing the twelve-year-old she’d tried to save during the earthquake and is plagued with nightmares and all sorts of dark, life-hating thoughts, so Ned and Alice call up the dead kid’s parents and have them come visit Jess to validate her and assure her that their child’s death was not her fault. Way to go, N&A, what great compassion you have. Yes, make the grieving parents put their mourning on hold to validate a twin. But “the new, little-girl-killing Jessica” doesn’t truly start to come around until she starts babysitting a little kid named Marco, whose father/only parent is in critical condition, and when it turns out Marco’s dad is going to be okay, Jess begins to believe in hope and miracles again.
Speaking of death and such, Olivia Davidson is la histoire and her boyfriend Ken Matthews is a total wreck. Her parents beg him to do her eulogy, and he’s resistant at first but of course, he goes through with it, and it brings the whole house down. It even gets Lila Fowler thinking she wants to be a better person so that Todd Wilkins will think as highly of her as he does of Liz. Yes, she and Todd are struggling with their inexplicable attraction for each other, which I’m not feeling, and they deal with it by acting like brats. Finally, Lila and Todd get into a heated argument at the funeral that ends with them smooching—and feeling nothing but repulsion. They walk away, all but wiping their mouths and spitting, and Lila has to buy witness Amy Sutton a new wardrobe to purchase her silence.
Also at the funeral, Liz catches sight of Dana Larson’s snake-shaped armband and everything about the earthquake comes back to her—including Devon not saving her. She and her friends confront Devon about his lameness, and Ken Matthews says it definitely wasn’t Devon who was the hero. Devon is so hurt by how mean everyone is that he hops on his bike; abandons Nan, the closest thing he had to family; and is all, “I’m outta heeeeeeere” as he rides off into the sunset, feeling sorry for himself. Bye, boi. Once he’s gone, Liz visits Todd, and they have a very final goodbye, and it makes me uncomfy! Oh, me. How is it that I hate them together yet hate when they decide to stop seeing each other? Maybe I should attend couples therapy with them.
Then everyone dumps Olivia’s ashes in the sea and it’s all over! And “Sweet Valley would never be the same again.” (That’s the last sentence of the whole series, FYI. Of course it is!)
Other Notes:
- What happens to that nude painting of Ken that Olivia promised him she’d hide and no one would ever see? Someone’s bound to stumble across it now and marvel at Matthews in all his watercolor glory.
- Mr. Collins has an unmemorable appearance when he pops up with his son after their house has been destroyed, and they get temporary shelter at Sandra Bacon’s house. Living with a teenage ex-cheerleader? This arrangement was probably the nicest thing a ghostwriter ever did for the poor man.
- The only material possessions that Jess can save from the wreckage of her house are memorabilia from her dead boyfriends (two of them, at least). She also admits that she’s never loved anyone but Sam Woodruff and Christian Gorman. Then why’d she say she loved every single other person she dated? The questions will never end.
- Other places totally destroyed by the earthquake: El Carro High, the Beach Disco, and even the Dairi Burger! And basically about every other place no one felt like including in Senior Year.
- So it’s never clearly written who the hell saved Enid and Elizabeth—just some “mysterious stranger.” Apparently, after the fact in an interview, the ghostie was all, “Huh? We never said who it was? Oh, well, it was just some random EMT. Case closed.” Ugh. I’m so glad to be done with this series.
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