Elizabeth stared at her twin in amazement. She knew Jessica was bold and daring - her wild fashion choices were proof of that. But leader of the free world? It was a daring scheme.
And Jessica just might pull it off.
For a moment, Elizabeth was thrilled. If Jessica turned to politics, especially with the election mere months away, she definitely wouldn’t have time to work on her budding literary career. But on a less selfish note, what would Jessica’s victory - and Jessica was so beloved by the American people, her victory seemed assured - mean for her beloved country? And indeed, for the world?
Elizabeth was musing on this startling new development when she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“Hi Jeffrey,” she murmured. Jeffrey’s tender touch was just what she needed.
“Um, sorry Liz,” came a deep bass voice. It wasn’t Jeffrey at all! It was....
“Todd!” said Elizabeth, flustered.
“I just came to offer you some juice,” said Todd, awkwardly. He held out a dixie cup.
“Oh,” said Elizabeth. “Thanks, Todd. It’s good to see you.”
“You too, Liz,” said Todd. They held each other’s eyes for one long, lingering moment. For a second, the years seemed to melt away and their hearts were one once more. It was as if Boo Boo, Lila’s monkey, had risen from the grave to play Cupid, firing arrows of love from the stock of deadly weapons he kept on his back between his fluttering wings.
“So!” said Elizabeth, trying to keep her voice bright and normal. “What do you think about Jess’s plan to lead our glorious nation?”
Todd laughed. “That’s your sister for you, Liz,” he said. “She always aims high. I don’t doubt that she can achieve her goal.”
Elizabeth sighed. “I think you’re right. But Todd, I’m not sure I approve. I mean, Jessica’s political beliefs are kind of non-existent. Who knows what she’d do if she were the Commander in Chief?”
Todd glanced over at the other side of the room, where Jessica was telling the other party-goers of her plans for America.
“I think we’ll soon find out,” he said.
When Jessica got an idea into her beautiful head, she didn’t hesitate. By the end of the party, her campaign was in full swing.
“The election is coming soon,” she told her friends. “And I need all of your help! First of all, I need a Vice President.” She looked at her twin and smiled angelically. “Liz, will you do the honours? A two twin ticket is just what this country needs!”
Elizabeth shook her head. “You’re in this one on your own, Jess,” she said. “Sure, I’ll lend a handin the campaign. But I have no desire to get involved in politics.”
Actually, Elizabeth did. But her political ideals were a bit more serious than Jessica’s. She didn’t want to taint them by associating with her sister’s vanity project.
Jessica glared at her twin.
“I might have known,” she said, her beautiful features cold and forbidding.
“Hey, Jess,” Elizabeth pleaded. “I’m still going to help! I just don’t want to steal the limelight from the President to Be. After all, if you have a VP who looks just like you, the voters might get confused.”
Jessica considered her twin’s words. “I guess you’re right,” she said. “Okay, I’ll just have to get another VP. But where?”
* * * * * * *
Just a couple of miles away, an owl hooted in the woods surrounding one of the most palatial houses in Sweet Valley.
In a gold-painted room lit merely by a few candles, Lila Fowler yawned and changed channels on her enormous flat-screen TV.
The troubled young heiress was bored.
Her dream of ruling Sweet Valley had come to nothing. She had faced her former friends in battle - and she had lost. She had spent the following six months in a mental insitution, a kindly place which had actually done a lot to restore Lila to her old self, the way she had been before she had become obsessed with plastic surgery and flying monkeys.
And world domination.
Of course, the old Lila was no saint. She was a devious, manipulative bitch. And she was smart enough to know that it would be a long, long time before she could step back in the social spotlight. The world had heard of her demented reign of terror. Some day, perhaps in a time when anyone besides her terrified servants would actually speak to her, she would open the windows of her mansion, she would drive around proudly in her Lime Green Triumph once more. But in the meantime, she led a lonely life. Her husband, Winston, was gone. Her simian companion, Boo Boo, was dead. Lila sniffed back a tear as she thought of the creature’s tragic demise.
She was all alone.
She was just about to go to sleep in her enormous four poster bed, which resembled the enormous throne designed by Michelangelo for the vatican, when something amazing happened.
The gold phone on her bedside table rang.
Her heart in her mouth, Lila picked up the receiver and held it to her puffed-out lips. Although she had reversed some of the worst excesses of her surgery during her rehabilitation, Lila still looked quite extraordinary.
“Hello?” she said.
“Hey, Lila!” cried a cheery voice. “It’s me, Jess! How would you like to be Vice President of the United States?”