Weekend - By Christopher Pike Page 0,1

they wanted to hear, and to salvage her own guilty conscience. But one sad day she would have to speak the truth, for then it would be too late:Robin is dead. We killed her .

"I talked to her on the phone Tuesday night," Shani said. "She sounded in good spirits, into getting everything organized. She was spending a fortune on food."

"Hope she isn't buying local," Angie chuckled. "But that's great she's feeling better."

"Yeah," Shani muttered. Didn't they understand that when your kidneys were gone, you didn'tget better?

"Has she been singing much?" Kerry asked.

"I don't know. Probably," Shani lied. Lena had said Robin's voice was all but gone. Prior to the accident, Robin would have rivaled Linda Ronstadt.

"I wonder what her nurse is going to think of having all us wired teenagers sleeping on the beach outside their house," Angie said.

"The nurse won't be there," Shani said. "Lena can do the dialysis." Lena was Robin's sister. They were the same age, both of them having been adopted at infancy by Carlton Records emperor Charles Carlton. Mr. and Mrs. Carlton had no other children. They were getting to the stage in life where one had to shout at them to be heard. However, despite his wrinkles, Mr. Carlton, like so many other self-made millionaires, was intimidating. Whenever Shani talked to him, she always felt like a fool if she didn't agree with all his opinions - he had that kind of influence over people. Neither he nor his wife would be there this weekend. With their unlimited capital, they had bought Robin two dialysis machines, one for their mansion in Santa Barbara, the other for the beach house that was taking forever to get to.

When Mr. and Mrs. Carlton died, Lena and Robin would inherit a mint. At least Lena would.

"I wouldn't trust Lena to cut my nails," Kerry said.

"Ouch!" Shani said. They had hit another hole and her head had received another slap. "I understand that she's quite competent, has been trained by the doctors and all. The procedure is supposed to be simple."

"Hey!" Angie burst out suddenly. "Shani, I forgot to tell you! I called Park from the motel last night and guess who's riding down with him and Sol and Bert?"

"Who?"

"Guess!"

"David Bowie. I guessed, now tell me!"

"Flynn."

"Flynn!" Flynn Powers was the new boy in town, from England. He'd only arrived in February, at the semester break. He was a dream: curly brown hair, dark green eyes, a walk as smooth as liquified charisma; and a hypnotic, accented voice that could literally put her in a trance. He had the largest hands, beautifully formed and eloquent; they could have been stolen from a Michelangelo. Everyone said it -

even the guys. Flynn had something about him, an indefinable aura of depth that spontaneously commanded respect. He was neither tall nor well-built, but he was a babe. All the girls wanted him, and Shani was trying to get in front of the pack. Trouble was, he probably didn't even know she walked the earth. He didn't seem much interested in the girls at their school. Lena - she was an exception to everything - thought he was gay.

"Do you have a plan of approach?" Kerry asked. She was neutral as far as Flynn was concerned, as she was still trying to get Sol back. ,

"Jump on him, I don't know," Shani said, the concentration of acid in her stomach abruptly doubling.

Thinking about doing anything made her nervous. Sometimes she swore she was getting an ulcer. She chewed Rolaids instead of gum. "What can I do?"

"What you suggested might work," Angie said.

"If I thought there was a chance, I would do it," Shani said, not taking herself seriously. She had to be the most sexually inexperienced girl in her senior class. She hadn't even "gone all the way" through a Playgirl magazine. Getting dates had been no problem, but the guys would only kiss her cheek at the end of the night, or else shake her hand; she had that kind of reputation. Perhaps she should talk to Lena, have a filthy rumour started in connection with her name. Not that she was obsessed - she was merely very, very interested in sex. What she really wanted was what all of them wanted: a relationship.

Unfortunately, she had taken physics, and had received a good grade, and had won a scholarship to the University of California at Santa Barbara, and had listed "psychiatrist" as her ambition in the yearbook