Monday, February 8, 2010
Sweet Valley High: Double Love
I was an 11-year-old Michael Crichton devotee, so Sweet Valley High (which is reading level 5) wasn’t on my radar back then. Last year, when I heard that Diablo Cody was working on an SVH film adaptation, my interest in the series was immediately piqued.
But then I took a shower or ate a burrito or something and forgot all about it.
Two weeks ago I was on Amazon looking for a book on mind control (side note: can someone please write an affordable book on mind control?) and randomly decided to do an SVH search. There were copies being sold for as low as $0.01 and because paying a penny for things makes me feel delightfully old timey, I decided to get one (though, with tax and shipping I ended up having to throw a couple of dollars into the mix, promptly killing my old timey buzz). I ordered Double Love, careful to select the original 1983 edition and not the updated one in which the Wakefield’s waistlines are modernized (i.e. slimmed down).
When my book arrived last Thursday, I was pleased to see that the former owner had written her name on the inside cover.
She also appears to have circled all of the SVH books that she’s read.
Rather than reviewing Double Love, as there are already plenty of other bloggers who’ve reviewed SVH in ways that are far more insightful and clever than I could ever manage, I’ve decided to regale you with my (lack of) fanfic skillz.
(In Chapter 6 of Double Love, Jessica, the evil twin, goes out on a date with "outrageous," Rick Andover. Because he’s a Camaro-driving, alchie, high school drop-out, aka my dream guy, I couldn’t help but imagine myself snuggled up next to him in that car.)
Amber climbed into the Camaro next to Rick. He looked fantastic. A cigarette dangled from his lips and he was clenching the steering wheel in a very sexy way. "You ready to boogey, Heaven?"
Amber nodded and giggled.
"Heh, you laugh cute," Rick said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. "I bet you kiss cute too."
Amber smiled. She was glad that she’d taken the time to brush her teeth that day.
As they zoomed down the road, the wind blew defiantly through her perfect, thick, gorgeous, sexy jet-black hair. "This is so extreme!"
"I’ll show you extreme," Rick said, speeding up. "Pedal to the metal."
Amber howled. She was amazed by Rick’s ability to talk, drive, smoke, and fondle her, all at the same time. What a renaissance man, she thought to herself.
"So where are we going?" She asked flirtatiously.
"That’s for me to know and you to find out."
Amber gave Rick’s thigh a playful squeeze. She’d never felt so wonderfully out of control. She was living on the edge, sitting beside the wild man of her dreams. "Rick Andover, you’re outrageous!"
"Hey, Heaven," Rick said, both hands on the steering wheel now. "There’s a bottle of whiskey in the back. Wanna grab that for me?"
"Sure thing, Rick." Amber reached behind her and felt around on the floor for the bottle. She picked up five or six empties before she found a full one. "Got it," she said and handed it to Rick.
"Thanks, Heaven. You’re Heaven," Rick said and then took a quick swig from the bottle and a drag off of his cigarette. "Want some?"
Amber took the bottle but then thought better of it. "I can’t. If my mom smells alcohol on my breath, I’ll be in 500,000 kinds of trouble."
"Suit yourself," he said, snatching the bottle from her. He took another swig and then belched loudly, filling the car air with his sweet cigarette-whiskey breath.
"So, uh, what was your name again? I forgot," he said.
Mrs. Amber Andover, she thought. Mrs. Amber Andover.