* Photo credit to The Closet *
Well, Jess is a bit right: Betsy Martin is sort of losery looking. And why does she look 45? My grandmother had that hair. I suppose after all those years of “drink, drugs, and boys” must’ve really aged her…hairstyle. Jess apparently can’t tear her eyes away from it (even though she shouldn’t talk, with those bangs of hers).
Tricia Martin, Steven’s beloved, who has the family from the wrong side of the tracks, dies of leukemia without fanfare on the first few pages, and her drunk dad and slutty sister Betsy aren’t even there to see her off into the afterlife. But every single Wakefield is there! Thank heavens; that’s all anyone needs. Before Tricia bites it, she makes Steven promise to look out for Betsy, who will have no one to turn to now, and Steven obliges. Then, just as everyone’s leaving, who should rush in but Betsy, looking like a psycho tramp, and starts screaming for Tricia and announcing how she was “busy drinking and smoking everything I could get my hands on.” I love when SVH tackles the subjects of drugs and what not. It gets to a point where when Lila Fowler says the word “pot,” it’s erotic.
The Wakefields invite Betsy to stay with them for a bit, correctly predicting that Mr. Martin will disappear on one of his binges (although he does appear on the doorstep, but then the incident is never addressed again, like the ghostwriter just forgot s/he ended a chapter with such suspense). Jess is downright humiliated that such a bad seed would be under her roof because Betsy is a slut (she had a threesome at Miller’s Point with Charlie Cashman and Jim Sturbridge—for real real!) and, as you know, Jess hates sluts. (She can smell her own.) Of course, it’s acceptable for Jess to stroll into the Beach Disco arm in arm with Aaron Dallas and Neil Freemount. The girl just hates competition.
Liz, as always, gives Betsy the benefit of the doubt and learns that her house guest is a great artist. She tells Steven, who gives Betsy a mini orgasm by giving her some paints. Yes, Betsy soon falls in love with Steven—her freshly dead teenage sister’s boyfriend—and who could blame her? Steven’s sooo fine! He takes after Ned Wakefield, after all! And it’s Steven who really helps Betsy avoid being a drunken whore and get her set on the right track. He’s the only boy who’s ever respected her, and she mistakes his kindness for lurve. But Jess sets her straight by “accidentally” revealing to Betsy that Steve’s only watching over her as a favor to Tricia, and Betsy heads straight out to the nearest bar. AA be damned!
Steven and his artsy friend Jason Stone (who is half sick in love with Betsy, but she just thinks he wants sex from her) hunt Betsy down, and Jason calmly removes his eyeglasses and busts out some ninja shit, officially kicking the crap out of the deadbeats that Betsy is with. Betsy realizes then that Jason is really the one for her—especially when he finagles her an acceptance to art school—so then I guess she agrees to put out. And then they celebrate with a barbecue!
While all these dramatic going-ons are going on, Winston Egbert has made it his mission to eat large quantities of everything delicious in sight (prompting a fairly homoerotic bet [as far as I’m concerned!] regarding a night out at the Beach Disco between Bruce Patman and Todd Wilkins). Winston, a.k.a “The Starch King,” takes his act to Guido’s Pizzeria, where he tries to beat the world record of eating seven pizzas but ends up barfing before he can make it happen.
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