Whatever Words You Want to Hear

by Susan Beth Pfeffer

Overview

When Paula falls for the bad boy down the street, what she thought would be a silly summer romance becomes anything but

It’s Paula’s last summer at home, and in need of an affectionate distraction, she decides now is the perfect time to get involved with one of the two brothers from down the road, Jonny and Jordon. But which one? Likable, well-mannered Jonny? Or Jordon, who’s been kicked out of every school that would take him and who tells her up front that he wants her to have to choose—and wants her to choose him?

Who can say no to a bad boy? Underneath it all, Paula knows Jordon is the kind and gentle person she’s falling in love with—something his parents can’t, or won’t, see. And better yet, Jordon says he loves her back and promises to always be honest with her. But sometimes the truth isn’t what we want to hear . . .

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781497682740
Publisher:	Open Road Media
Publication date:	01/06/2015
Sold by:	Barnes & Noble
Format:	eBook
Pages:	154
File size:	1 MB
Age Range:	14 - 18 Years

About the Author

Susan Beth Pfeffer wrote her first novel, Just Morgan, during her last semester at New York University. Since then, she has written over seventy novels for children and young adults, including Kid Power, Fantasy Summer, Starring Peter and Leigh, and The Friendship Pact, as well as the series Sebastian Sisters and Make Me a Star. Pfeffer’s books have won ten statewide young reader awards and the Buxtehude Bulle Award.

Read an Excerpt

Whatever Words You Want to Hear

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By Susan Beth Pfeffer

OPEN ROAD INTEGRATED MEDIA

Copyright © 1974 Susan Beth Pfeffer
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4976-8274-0

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CHAPTER 1

Meeting Jonny was perhaps the easiest thing I have ever done. He was standing by the gate to my house, not doing anything, not even looking, really, as I was coming home from town.

"Hello," I said, because I was used to seeing strangers standing there, and had been encouraged by my parents to be friendly. "Anything I can do for you?"

"No," he said looking self-conscious. I realized then, he wasn't there because of my parents. "I was just standing here. It looked peaceful. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," I said. "Lots of people say it looks peaceful. I'm used to it."

"That must be nice," he said. "Are your parents peaceful people?"

"Why do you ask? They're very giving people," I said. "They say giving makes people feel at peace with themselves, so I guess that's it."

"My name is Jonny Stapleton," he said. "That's short for Jonathan."

"I'm Paula Rickarts," I said. "That's short for Rickowsky."

"I beg your pardon," he said.

"Sorry," I said. "Family joke."

He looked at me so blankly, I assumed he didn't know what a family joke was. I wanted to stare back at him, but I decided to talk instead. "Are you from around here?"

"Yeah," he said. "My family moved here a couple of years ago. We live three, maybe four, miles from here. I went to Dillard."

Dillard was the very exclusive prep school that my parents wouldn't send me to because they believed in public education. It was about ten miles out from town, and the kids from the high school very rarely knew the kids from there. So it didn't surprise me that we'd never met.

"What're you doing here?" I asked. "I don't mean that negatively."

"I decided to walk," he said. "I needed to walk very badly, and this was the direction I ended up walking. I stopped here because I was tired."

"That's a good reason," I said. "Want to come in, and have a coke?"

"You don't know me," he said. "Would it be okay?"

"Sure," I said. "We're always having strange people in. Besides, my sister will be there to protect me."

"Okay," he said. "I just thought your parents might object."

"That's not the kind of thing they'd object to," I said, opening the gate. "As a matter of fact they'd be more likely to object if I didn't ask you in."

"You must have very unusual parents," he said.

"I guess so," I said. "They're very good people. You might say that's what they do for a living."

"I didn't know there was any money in being good," he said.

"The house?" I said, and opened the door. "It's all a front. Actually, my father's father had all the money. He left it to Dad, who's been going through it very happily ever since."

"That doesn't sound very good to me."

"This way to the kitchen," I said. "He and Mom use it to start foundations, give scholarships, things like that. Dad's a doctor and Mom's a psychologist. You know what they say about psychologists' kids."

"No, what?"

"Nothing good," I said. "Coke or ginger ale?"

"Ginger ale, thank you," Jonny said. "So your parents both work, even though they have all this money?"

"'Life without giving is meaningless,'" I said, quoting my parents who said it at least twice a day. "'And life without work is valueless,'" finishing the quote. "Besides they're the kind of people who have to keep busy. God, do they keep busy."

"You sound down on them," he said, and we sat down at the kitchen table.

"I don't mean to," I said. "It's just they think very differently than me."

"And how do you think?"

"As little as possible," I said. "Do you know what my greatest ambition is?"

"To be a philanthropist."

"Wrong. To be a model."

He looked at me critically. "Do you really think you could make it?"

"I'm very photogenic," I said. "Besides, I'd settle for airline stewardess, or maybe call girl. I want to be frivolous for the rest of my life."

"All this giving gets you down?"

"It wouldn't except I had a fight with Mom last night," I said. "She's very good at giving. She gives to everybody, except me. I wanted her to do me one little favor, and she doesn't have the time. Dad gets very upset when I ask her to do anything for me, so he got angry too, and we ended up wanting to shout at each other, only we don't. We reasoned it out. Dad and Mom are very big on reasoning things out. So I got to explain why I wanted Mom's help, and she got to explain why she didn't have the time, and I ended up losing just the way I knew I would before I even started. Can you understand that?"

"Not completely," Jonny said. "What about your sister?"

"She's different," I said.

"That I understand," he said.

I looked at him blankly this time. "What?"

"I mean the way parents can treat brothers and sisters differently."

"That's not it exactly," I said. "It's just Marion's adopted and I'm not. So they overcompensate. They love us equally, I'm sure of that, but they feel that they have to show it to her more. Is it that way in your family?"

"No, not at all," he said. "That must be an awkward situation."

"It's not really awkward," I said. "Just different. In any event, Marion's very secure, and so am I. What's your family like?"

"I'm sorry," he said. "You've told me everything about yourself, and I haven't told you a thing."

"I haven't told you very much," I said. "Only the negative stuff. Most of my life is very positive."

"That's good," he said. "I mean, it wouldn't be right if you lived in a peaceful house and had giving parents and a secure sister, and couldn't stand it anyway."

"I stand it fine," I said. "What about you?"

"Not so fine," he said. "I have a brother, Jordon, a couple of years older than me."

"Are you close?"

"Very," Jonny said. "Are you and Marion close?"

"Not really," I said. "She's seven years older than me. We love each other, but we don't have that much in common."

"I'm not sure about me and Jordon," he said. "But we're very close."

"That's good," I said. "I'm in favor of brotherly love."

"I've stayed too long," he said. "I'm sorry. I'll go now."

"No, I'm sorry," I said, because I liked the way Jonny looked, and his manners, and I'd split up with my old boy friend a couple of months before and was in the mood for someone new. "I was being rude. Forgive me."

"No," he said. "I mean, you weren't being rude at all. Just the opposite. Letting in some raggedy stranger, giving him shelter from the storm."

"First of all, you're not very raggedy. And secondly, it's a beautiful day. It is, you know," I said, starting to feel more cheerful. "Bright, and full of warmth."

"Like this house," he said.

"Exactly," I said. "So now that we've apologized to each other ..."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Marion said walking into the room. "I didn't realize you had company."

"We'll let someone else apologize, for a change," I said. Jonny smiled. "Marion, I'd like you to meet Jonny Stapleton. Jonny, my sister Marion."

"Hello," Marion said. Jonny smiled at her. "Are you a friend of Paula's? I don't think I've ever met you."

"We met about ten minutes ago," Jonny said.

"I'm giving him shelter from the storm," I said.

"Oh," Marion said, and looked out the window. "Emotional, I assume."

"Jonny goes to Dillard," I said.

"Went," he said. "I graduated this June."

"So did I," I said. "Where are you going to college?"

"Yale," he said.

"Princeton," I said. I always like telling people I'm going to Princeton.

"That's pretty frivolous," he said.

"They have a fantastic modeling program," I said.

"I hope the two of you know what you're talking about, because I don't have the slightest idea," Marion said. "The only reason I came in here was to get some strawberries. Would you like some?"

"No thanks," Jonny said. "I'd better be going, if I have to walk back."

"I can drive you," I said.

"Thanks. I'd like that."

"I'm starting to worry about myself," Marion said. "People keep walking out on me. Maybe I should switch deodorants."

"Oh, Marion," I said, because she and her husband had just split up, and I thought her remark was a little tasteless.

"I really do have to go," Jonny said. "I didn't tell my parents I was leaving, and they might be worrying."

"I was only kidding," Marion said. "It's been nice meeting you."

"Thank you," Jonny said. "I hope we'll have a chance to talk some more."

"You're always welcome," Marion said, and left the kitchen, carrying the bowl of strawberries with her.

"Want to go?" I asked, but I didn't get up.

"No," he said. "I'd much rather stay here."

"What happened at home?" I asked. "Why the need for four-mile hikes?"

"Nothing new," he said. "A fight. Just uglier than usual."

"Do you fight often with your parents?"

"No," he said. "Almost never."

"All right," I said. "I guess I was prying."

"I'm sorry," he said. "What I meant was my parents had a fight with my brother, with Jordon. They're always fighting with him, and I should be used to it by now, but this one was really bad, so I left. I don't think they even noticed."

"They don't pay much attention to you?"

"No, that's not it at all. They pay lots of attention to me. They're not stifling, or anything, but they pretty much know what I'm doing. It's just when they get into a battle with Jordon, they forget to look at me. It's not a healthy situation."

"It doesn't sound it," I said. "Sure you want to go back?"

"I keep telling myself college is in another couple of months. I can make it through that. Things aren't so bad when Jordon's away, but he's spending the summer at home, and it's just one fight after another."

"I'd think you'd be used to it by now," I said, and realized that sounded terrible. "I mean, people build up a resistance after a while."

"I thought I had," he said. "I thought I could take anything. But it still gets to me."

"And what about Jordon?"

"It gets to him too," Jonny said. "Look, this conversation is getting me down. Let's change the subject."

"Okay," I said. "What're you going to major in, do you know?"

"Math," he said. "I really like math. It's like a foreign language; when you first meet it, you can't deal with it, and then you realize it's all based on numbers, just like the language is based on letters, and after that you realize all the billions of ways those numbers can be put together. You can lose yourself in those numbers. At least, I can."

"That's great," I said.

"What're you going to major in?"

"I'm not sure yet," I said. "If modeling is all filled up ..."

"It probably will be," Jonny said. "Very popular subject in Princeton."

"Then I think I'll major in Sanskrit. Something relevant like that."

"You're escaping too, huh."

"Sure," I said. "Besides, the family needs to diversify. Marion's following in the family tradition."

"Doctor?"

"Welfare rights organizer. Outside agitator. Someone in the family has to be frivolous."

"I have a feeling when it gets down to it, you'll end up just like your parents. Probably become a missionary."

"Don't say that," and suddenly I was very serious. "I have no intention of being anything like them."

"Okay," he said. "I guess I was wrong."

"You were," I said. "Want that lift home now?"

"Yeah, I guess so," he said. "Back to the battleground."

"It won't be that bad," I said, because I was annoyed at him. "Come on."

We walked through the back yard, to the garage, and got into my car.

"It's lovely," he said.

"Thanks," I said, and managed a small smile. My parents had agreed to my having a car, without too much arguing, but they'd refused to let me have anything new or expensive, so I'd been given a '67 Volkswagen with a couple of missing hubcaps and an assorted collection of dents and scratches. But it ran, and I liked the way it shamed the neighborhood. "It used to be a Mercedes, but it had a face lift."

"Not too successful," Jonny said. "Oh well, it has character this way."

"That's for sure," I said, and got it running. "You'll have to direct me."

"I'm not sure I can," he said, but he managed to. Our conversation on the road consisted mostly of "right turn now, I think" and "maybe this one is a left." I enjoyed his insecurity, and wouldn't have objected to getting lost with him.

"This is it," he said, as we drove up to one of the more garish mansions our town spawned on its outskirts. My parents' house has a quiet unassuming wealth to it. Jonny's shrieked "Money!" A lot of the newer rich houses did. The kids who lived in them usually went to Dillard, and didn't drive VWs. I sighed at their lack of class.

"Want me to come in?" I asked. "Protection?"

"It's not necessary," he said. "But I'd like you to meet Jordon."

"Fine," I said. I was in the mood to meet all these odd characters. We got out of the car, and Jonny started walking toward the back of the house. As we got closer, I could see a swimming pool, which didn't surprise me. Sitting by the pool, hunched over, was a guy. I assumed it was Jordon. As we got closer, I realized he was crying. He wasn't wailing; it was more a soft, almost sniffling sound, and when he realized we were coming, he rubbed his face very fast, inhaled, and with a conscious unselfconsciousness stuck his hand in the pool and wiped his face with the water.

"Hi," he said, and turned to face us. He didn't look like Jonny, who had light brown hair and freckles. Jordon was much darker, and had a heavy suntan already. I was just ending the peeling stage.

"Jordon," Jonny said. "I want you to meet Paula Rickarts. She lives a couple of miles away."

"Hello," I said, and sat down next to Jordon.

"Hi," he said. "Welcome to the house of Usher."

"I don't know," I said. "Doesn't look so bad to me."

"Surface," he said. "The whole house suffers from fungus, doesn't it Jonny?"

"Sure, Jordon," he said. "If that's what you want to call it."

"Jonny likes to humor me," Jordon said. "He doesn't think there's fungus there at all. Jonny's sense of smell isn't all it could be."

"Whose is?" I asked just in case there was going to be an awkward silence. I hate awkward silences.

"Mine," Jordon said. "I can smell a rat fifty miles off."

"Not to mention fungus," Jonny said. "He has a very good nose for fungus."

"Very impressive," I said. "Nice weather we've been having."

"Don't you like to discuss smells?" Jordon asked.

"Sure," I said. "But not to the exclusion of everything else."

"Lovely day," Jonny said. "Good for storms."

"And shelter," I said. "Getting a little hot though."

"That happens in the summertime," Jordon said. "What do you do for a living?"

"Nothing," I said. "I start college this fall."

"Princeton," Jonny said.

"I'm impressed," Jordon said. "You must be very smart."

"I do well on tests," I said. "There's a difference between that and being smart."

"I'll take your word for it," Jordon said. "I always flunk tests, and the general consensus is I'm stupid."

I don't like people who are proud of their stupidity, and I was getting impatient. If I were Jordon's parents, I decided, I'd probably fight with him too. "Well, I have to be going," I said. "It's been nice meeting you."

"Wait a second," Jonny said. "I'll see you again, won't I?"

"Sure," I said. "I'll be spending the whole summer four miles away. You must have a car."

"Sure he does," Jordon said. "Good-bye Paula."

"Good-bye," I said, and ran back to the Volkswagen. Just sitting in its shabbiness made me feel better

CHAPTER 2

My parents were delighted to have Marion back, even if it was only for a visit. I think they liked talking to her more than me, because of her age, I guess, and general outlook on life. In the few days she'd been back, we'd analyzed the Middle Eastern situation, the race problem, and medical care for the indigent. They got into a really good argument over the last, since Mom insists on taking a token payment from all her patients, and Marion said even five dollars a session would make her too expensive for lots of people.

"I know," Mom said. "Those people come to group sessions. They only cost a dollar. I have to make them pay something. It's like medicine. It has to taste bad for people to think it works."

"Besides, there's Ellie's pride to think about," Dad said. "If she doesn't take any money, she might as well be doing any old Lady Bountiful volunteer work."

"No point having a Ph.D. just to distribute turkeys at Christmas," I said.

"Exactly," Dad said. "I'd really think you'd understand that, Marion. There's a certain pride involved in earning money."

"But Mom would do just as good a job even if she weren't paid," Marion said. "Wouldn't you?"

(Continues...)

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Excerpted from Whatever Words You Want to Hear by Susan Beth Pfeffer. Copyright © 1974 Susan Beth Pfeffer. Excerpted by permission of OPEN ROAD INTEGRATED MEDIA.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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