I’m sorry for being a total Jessica and slacking off. I did finish “Post-coital Tristesse” in time for a NaNoWriMo win, but got behind on the blogging part of it. Now that I have some time off work for the holidays, I’ll be updating the blog with the rest of the story and also posting a link with the novel in its entirety. Thanks for reading — it means so much to me that there are people who are interested in the crazy crap I come up with!
“That’s impossible!” Elizabeth cried, throwing off her Snuggie. It slid to the floor and landed in a sleeved heap. “Bruce is my new BFF. I mean, sure, he may get a little handsy every now and then, but he’s certainly not a rapist!”
“Date rapist,” Jessica said, correcting her twin for once. “He at least has the decency to get a girl good and drunk or otherwise impaired beforehand.”
“Police have also declined to speak further about the case,” Amy continued. “They have, however, referred all questions about the Sweet Valley date rapist to a ragtag bunch of 16-year-olds with an uncanny ability to solve crimes and a shocking lack of parental supervision.”
Elizabeth shook her head angrily as Amy concluded her report.
“For Sweet Valley Action News, I’m Amy Sutton. Token Sweet Valley High Character We Don’t Give a Shit About But Who Inexplicably Became a News Anchor, back to you.”
“Thanks, Amy,” Jeffrey French said as the camera cut back to him. “Coming up: A look at your local forecast, which as we all know will be sunny and perfect, but first, our nightly check of the Wakefield twins’ bowel movements and a special report on why Elizabeth doesn’t love me anymore.” We’ll never know why
The sun burned into Todd’s pasty, flabby skin. Through his sunglasses, he could discreetly check out Ken’s perfectly sculpted abs as the two of them lounged on their towels.
It’s Elizabeth I love, it’s Elizabeth I love, it’s Elizabeth I love, Todd repeated to himself over and over. Everything I’m doing — spying on her through her windows at night, getting in shape so I can impress her by joining a recreational basketball league, helping Ken get over the pain of losing Olivia sometime in the late 1990s — everything I’m doing is to win back Elizabeth.
But it was getting more and more difficult to convince himself, especially when Ken was lying just inches away from him in nothing but a tiny red bathing suit. Hotness
Five
Sweet Valley
Jessica had picked out the perfect bikini at the Sweet Valley Mall, a stunning turquoise two-piece that complemented her blue-green eyes and showed off her awesome rack. There’s no way Marshall the fifth can resist me in this little number, Jessica thought. He – and his bank account! – won’t know what hit him!
Jessica applied one last coat of mascara. She knew Marshall the fifth was waiting downstairs in his limo, but, as any woman knew, it was best to make a man wait. I make my living making men wait, Jessica thought, smiling wryly.
“Jessica!” Elizabeth called up the stairs. “Are you ready yet? It’s rude to keep your date waiting.”
“When was the last time I didn’t keep a date waiting?” Jessica shot back. She applied a thick layer of lipstick in a deep, vampy shade of red and pursed her lips.
Elizabeth pulled back the curtain and peeked out at the limo parked across the courtyard. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw curtains and blinds quickly snap shut in two of the other condos. Bizarre, Elizabeth thought, shaking her head. Shit’s about to get aaaaaawkward
Four
Sweet Valley
Jessica laughed, a silvery little giggle she sometimes used with clients to make them throw more dollar bills her way. “Oh, Marshall Stanton V, you are just the most fascinating man I’ve ever met in my entire life,” she purred, running a finger up his arm.
Never mind the fact that he’s approaching 70 and has less hair than boring old Todd Wilkins at this point, Jessica thought, shuddering. This fucker is totally loaded!
“As are you,” he replied. “Except you’re not a man. And you’re not even that fascinating. But you are beautiful.”
Jessica caught Lila’s eye and grinned, sticking her tongue out at her best friend as Marshall V turned away to admire one of the many original paintings decorating the walls of Lila Crest. Lila scowled and tipped back her fourth glass of champagne, downing it in one swallow. Indie cred
Winston acted as if he hadn’t heard Bruce’s tirade. “Have you heard the new Droids album?” he asked.
“It’s pretty good,” Bruce admitted.
Winston laughed. “Talk about a joke!” he said. “Their earlier stuff was so much better.”
“They did hit their peak around 1995,” Bruce agreed.
Winston took a heavy drag on his cigarette. “1995? More like 1983,” he said, snorting.
“What’s your point, Egbert?” Bruce snarled, clearly annoyed.
Winston just shrugged.
“I don’t pay you to talk about the latest bullshit indie album,” Bruce snapped. “I pay you to fucking entertain.” Winston is totally cooler than you
The club wasn’t very crowded. At a table to her left, Jessica spotted one of her regulars, Mr. Collins. He had been the twins’ English teacher at Sweet Valley High, and he’d popped Elizabeth’s cherry up at Miller’s Point one night. Elizabeth had come home crying uncontrollably, Jessica recalled.
Even though Mr. Collins kind of gave her the creeps, he was still one of her best-paying customers. Jessica worked her way over to his side of the stage, gyrating her hips and accepting dollar bills from A.J. Morgan and Claire Middleton as she did so.
“Hello, Mr. Collins,” Jessica said breathily, crouching down and holding out a hand for her usual tip. Inwardly, she shuddered in disgust, but in six years of dancing Jessica had become a pro at not letting her face betray her true feelings.
“Elizabeth,” Mr. Collins said warmly. “Do you need ‘advising’? Preferably in the champagne room?” Coke whoring
“I — I lost my job today,” Elizabeth said, her voice shaking. At any moment, she was sure she was going to burst into tears.
“You did what?” Jessica screeched. “Do you know what this is going to do to my bikini line? Not to mention my career?”
“You’ll just have to work harder, Jess,” Elizabeth said quietly. She looked up at her sister, whose face was contorted in rage. “You know, help out a little bit around here.”
“You want help? Here you go,” Jessica said dismissively, reaching into her purse and pulling out a fat roll of cash. She threw it toward her twin.
“What’s this?” Elizabeth asked, her eyes wide as she unfurled the roll and started counting the money. “Jessica, these are all one-dollar bills.” Gemini to the main stage
“Even so,” Lila said, wrinkling her nose, “you wouldn’t catch me doing something as pathetic as taking charity from someone like that.” She gave Marshall a cute little wave from across the pool. “Hi, sweetie!”
Marshall grunted and stared at a spot somewhere above Lila’s head.
“Doesn’t Marshall have some, like, children or grandchildren? You know, a rich, hot heir to the Stanton fortune…” Jessica’s voice trailed off dreamily.
Lila snorted. “Yeah, right. You think they’d let you anywhere near their bank account?”
“Why not? I have blue-green eyes the color of the Pacific ocean, a tiny dimple in my left cheek when I smile, a perfect size-six figure, and I’m a fucking Wakefield twin,” Jessica said, listing all of her best attributes. Winston gets all hip
Post-coital Tristesse
by saucytemptress
One
Sweet Valley
Elizabeth Wakefield packed the last of the belongings from her desk — a framed photo of her family, her well-worn journal, a lone yellow barrette — and took one last look at the newsroom that had, for the past five years, been her home.
Penny Ayala had broken the news to Elizabeth just that morning. With her typical no-nonsense, ball-busting attitude, the editor had called Elizabeth into her office.
“We’re going to an online-only publication,” Penny had said, barely looking up from her computer screen.
Elizabeth’s brow had furrowed in concentration. Ever the seasoned reporter, she’d taken the small, spiral-bound notebook she kept nestled in between her breasts in case of breaking news and started to write down everything Penny was saying. Wakefield twin TMI ahead