When Lila Met Stacey Chapter 12 [and some Team Margo goodies…]

14 Oct


Before we get onto the latest installment, let me digress a moment: As I’ve always said, screw the Wakefields, and bring on batshit-crazy doppleganger Margo  to stir things up. I’m having an absolute ball being the evil twin and killing off irritating sitting charges and Elizabeth-obsessors [Amy Sutton is next in the path of the glittering knife.] So I invite you to share in this contest. [Disclaimer: this is not a SVConfidential official giveaway]
All you have to do is leave a comment below about which Sweet Valley character you would become if you were Margo. The correct answer is “Nobody – I would be myself because Margo is AWESOME!” but you cannot write that, because I just did. Feel free to do the poll at the end as well, it might give you some suggestions. The winner will be judged on the quality of their response, and will receive the kick-ass tee. I just wish I didn’t have to give one away…


Congrats to Sophie, winner of our last contest,  her awesome Claud and Stace outfits appear in the chapter below. Enjoy your used SVU books, Sophie, I know I did…

But now for Chapter 12

“Stacey and the Fashion Victim” or  “Big Brother’s in Love Again”

“Ouch!” Jessica Wakefield cursed as the safety pin in her mouth pierced her lower lip. She bit down hard, trying to stop the trickle from oozing onto the white Grecian gown on her model.

“Jess!” Claudia yelled across the room. “This seems seams undone!”

“Lila!” Jessica hollered to be heard above the din. “Get off your ass and get the day glo girls in place. We’ve got ten minutes people!”

Jessica finished pinning the gold sash on the model.

“Thanks, Maria,” she said gratefully, glad that the former child actress and Elizabeth’s friend had come to her rescue at the eleventh hour.

Nine of her girls had come down with food poisoning overnight, which barely seemed a coincidence given that Cokie Mason had been masquerading as a barrista during their rehearsal yesterday.

“Cokie,” Jessica seethed as she squatted to push down one of the model’s yellow slouch socks. The creator of Style Masons had been trying to sabotage her Fashion Week show for the best part of a month.

The techno music blasted through the massive auditorium, and butterflies crept into Jessica’s stomach. If she could pull this off, Jessica Wakefield would prove once and for all that she was her own woman, and not some over-privileged twat who lived in her sister’s shadow and scabbed off her rich parents.

She craned her neck to get a glimpse of the audience. Stacey was out there, seated next to Anna Wintour. She looked fantastic, as usual, in a white linen minidress with a purple leather blazer. Pink slouch socks and a silver Tiffany’s necklace completed the trendy ensemble.

Kanye finished his dance and a loud voice boomed across the speakers.

“Presenting…Magenta Galaxy!”

The beat picked up and the audience applauded as Claudia’s neon bright range hit centre stage. Jessica watched with a grin as 13 slim, attractive girls sashayed down the runway, only feeling envious for a second that this time, she was behind the scenes.

The Greece inspired range was next, and Jessica was glad she had talked down Claudia’s idea of poodle skirts and neckties for white togas and lycra drapery.

Jessica held her breath as the last line of models made their way out, a jumble of colours, textures and shades. She liked the crimson teapot-print maxi the best.

All of a sudden, the audience broke into rapturous applause. “Magenta Galaxy, presented by Jessica Wakefield, Lila Fowler and Claudia Kishi-Lee!”

Jessica turned to Lila and grinned. Claudia ran up beside her and starting hugging her, jumping up and down.

“We done it! We done it!” she cried.

It was only then that Jessica fully appreciated Claudia’s outfit. She was wearing an oversized yellow sweatshirt, with a pair of lilac Unicorn-print tights. The stirrups were hooked over a pair of glittered jelly-flats, and hundreds of slim gold bangles adorned her wrists.

“You look great,” Jessica whispered, and she meant it. Having Claudia around had definitely made their show a success!

“Get on stage girls!” A cute-looking photographer rounded them up, and Jessica was all too happy to work it down the runway.

“Nice!” shouted the photographer in an Aussie accent. She squinted into the fluorescent lights, noting that the guy had curly red hair and a sprinkling of freckles.

“What’s your name?” yelled Jessica from the stage, exhilarated. She was so caught up in this moment, she didn’t care!

“I’m Ben!” he called “Ben Hobart!”

* * *

Roger Collins pressed his handsome face between the cold steel bars of his cell. “Elizabeth,” he whispered.

“I’m here, Roger,” she replied softly, “but unless you tell me something instead of repeating my name over and over, you’re not going to win this thing.”

Collins’ brow furrowed, and Elizabeth noticed that his eyes didn’t crinkle up at the corners like they used to. He ran a wrinkled hand through his hair, and Elizabeth realized that shades of grey had replaced the strawberry blonde. He looked more like an old Dennis Hopper than a young Robert Redford tonight, she thought wistfully.

“Elizabeth,” he said again, and she sighed.

He sank back on the concrete floor. There was silence for many minutes, until a voice leered from the cell behind her

“Hey blondie – whassa nice gal like you doin in here? Visiting sugar daddy?” Elizabeth didn’t turn around. She’d spent a night, ten years ago, in Sweet Valley jail, but even the criminals there had been more civilized than these horrid people in Stoneybrook!

“I’m going to go, Mr Collins,” she murmured. “I don’t think I can help you,”

“Of course you cant,” he snapped. “You’re a fricken journalist, not a lawyer.” Elizabeth’s face fell. What had happened to the man who had encouraged her, who’d been behind her [Winston: I’ll bet] all her high school years?

“Journalists solve crime, too!” She retorted, an indignant frown crossing her face. “What about when Jess and I solved crime for four consecutive summers when we were interns at the Sweet Valley News? And what about when we were summer interns at the London times and we caught a werewolf? We proved ourselves to be better detectives than the LAPD and the Scotland Yard!” She glared through the iron bars at the teacher she’d once adored and respected. He was fast asleep.

Elizabeth marched out of the jail with her head held high. After that insult, she wouldn’t have one nice thing to write about Mr Collins. He could suffer the consequences of his years of indecent behaviour toward minors.

“Heathens!” She screeched when she had reached the safety of outdoors. She hoped Richard Spier wouldn’t be too stoned for the trial, and that Sharon wouldn’t hide his briefcase in the oven again. Because she wanted Mr Collins to burn in hell- in Stoneybrook!

* * *

Margo Pike slumped over her chocolate milkshake at the Dairi Burger. She was going to have to start ordering it on skim – Elizabeth certainly didn’t have an inkling of a love-handle these days. That wasn’t always the case though, thought Margo snidely, pulling a photo out of her pocket – it was of Elizabeth in her freshman year at SVU, looking more than a little pudgy around the edges in a pink spaghetti-strap dress. Ha! Thought Margo. She took a bite of her Clam Special and sighed. Bruce was at a tennis tournament tonight, and Margo was exhausted from cleaning out Enid’s old apartment all day. She needed to find a suitable hide-out for the Elizabeth wax-model before the real estate agent brought clients through in a day’s time. She also needed to find herself a lavaliere.

“What the fuck is a lavaliere?” She wondered aloud.

“Need company?” A husky voice shook her from her lull. Margo looked up and gasped. Surely not! Standing above her booth, looking slightly thinner and older than he had on Facebook, was none other than Steven Wakefield.

He sat down anyway, and grinned at her, a flirtatious look in his eyes.

Margo shrank. If the reports were true, Steven was only getting laid by minors these days, most of them Stoneybrook ex-pats. She had to get out of here, and fast.

She glanced over at his wizened face and the five o’clock shadow sneaking across his jaw. She’d expected more decency from her future elder brother. Even if he is a total spunk, she thought with a sardonic smile.

Steven’s hand reached across the table, and Margo knew she had to act.

“I have to go..” stammered Margo. “I’ve got a bus to catch.”

She marched off without another word.

* * *

Weird, thought Steven, watching the girl disappear. He’d only wanted some Clam Special.

But something about the girl’s sharp eyes and dimpled cheeks had drawn him to her. She kind of reminded him of his sisters – maybe that was it!

Steven slurped the rest of the chocolate milkshake. He was hoping Joe Howell would stop by after work so they could hang out and have a chat, like old times. But Joe was busy looking after his pregnant wife, Maria Santelli.

Happy families, thought Steven bitterly. He’d driven past Billie Winkler’s parent’s place 137 times this afternoon, trying to pluck up the courage to go back in and beg for forgiveness from their only daughter. Steven hated to admit it, but he really needed Jessica right now.

* * *

Bruce Patman threw down his Swiss woven racket and mopped the sweat off his handsome brow.

“Nice work out there boy,” Hank appeared on the court beside him, striding to keep up with his brooding son. He reached out his hand to give the handsome heir a formal pat on the shoulder.

“Thank you father,” Bruce responded with grace. “Are we still on for Martinis at the Club?”

“Shaken not stirred,” replied Hank with a grin. “But I’ve just got to duck over to Calico Drive on the way.”

Calico Drive? Bruce wondered. Aside from Margo, the street was practically crawling with plebs. Still, it bought him an hour or so – he was getting mighty sick of Hank’s growing insistence that he get himself a wife. “Like one of those lovely Wakefields,” his father had taken to persuading him. Last week, Hank had even threatened cutting him out of the will if he hadn’t settled down by his thirtieth, which was nigh.

Bruce sighed and took a gulp of Evian. He needed a wife-type, alright, if for no other reason than to keep his opulent lifestyle. But he just couldn’t get Margo Pike out of his head!

* * *

Mary Anne glanced down at the white stick in her shaking hands. “Stay still,” she hissed at herself. One purple stripe had already appeared across the litmus strip. She looked away. This was unbearable.

The second line of purple was edging across the paper. “Please stop, please stop, please stop,” she begged to a god she didn’t believe in. It didn’t. Mary Anne glanced down fearfully. A double line.

Mary Anne’s bottom lip began to tremble. She bent over the toilet seat and promptly threw up.

“Logan!” she bellowed, wiping her face. “I’m pregnant!”


Mary-Anne's on her own - can she take charge?

Will Elizabeth put the final nail in Teacher Collins’ coffin?

What will the following nine months bring for Mary-Anne?

And who will Steven ravage next?

Find out in Chapter 13 of “When Lila Met Stacey,” “Slam Book Fever”, or “Fight Fire With Fire”

And don’t forget to leave me your winning comment….


16 Responses to “When Lila Met Stacey Chapter 12 [and some Team Margo goodies…]”

  1. megan s. October 14, 2010 at 6:45 am #

    hmm If I were Margo I’d become either Lila or Jess because they are the most awesome! Forget Liz!!!

  2. winstonegbert October 14, 2010 at 7:14 am #

    Team Lila, hell yeah! Over at Shannon Sweet Valley, you can buy lime-green triumph shirts for Team Lila.
    Ps – remember doing the quiz doesnt count as an entry as it only gives percentages, not individuals. Margo Forever!
    XX Winston

  3. Daniella October 14, 2010 at 7:41 am #

    I’d pick Awesome Lila, of course!

    This is a great chapter…Steven and Margo makes me giggle!

  4. Alysia October 14, 2010 at 3:49 pm #

    I’d be Lila Fowler. Why? Because Lila was kind of awesome at one point (ie, she took over the SV and formed her own exclusive club and she had a horse). Besides, Lila’s bitchy and can get away with the whole mean-girl thing and as Margo, I know I couldn’t keep all my snide comments to myself. I could totally be Lila and make her even more awesomer without having to change who I am as a person.

  5. Sam October 14, 2010 at 4:18 pm #

    If I were Margo, I would steal the identity of… Teddy Collins (Being John Malkovich style). Who would suspect that in this innocent 6 year old lurks the mentally deranged mind of Margo?? Plus that way she would get lots of access to Elizabeth, seeing as Liz does spend awfully big chunks of time hanging at the Collins abode. Babysitter beware!

    And yes, it would be a trickier scheme than stealing the identity of a peer, but I’ve seen Face/Off (and let’s forget the Swiss face swapping clinic) so I know that it’s feasible.

    It’s creepy and conniving, but so is Margo!

    ps. love the recap – Ben Hogan, yesss!! I really hope he attended the fashion parade dressed in an akubra and a driza-bone

    • Sam October 14, 2010 at 4:28 pm #

      whoops on that ps. that is meant to be the very Aussie Ben Hobart!! not Hogan

  6. Brandi October 15, 2010 at 2:53 am #

    If I was Margo, I’d become Lila, but only grudgingly. If possible, I’d just make myself look like her and convince her that I’m really her long-lost identical twin because Lila is just too awesome to die. But it would rock to be her because she’s LILA FOWLER. Lila is awesome. Much more awesome than the twins because she eventually ends up with Bruce Patman in college, and she didn’t even fall for his paper-cup booze almost-rape like Liz did. Hands-down, Lila is just too awesome to die, but also too awesome to not want to be.

  7. svugirl90 October 15, 2010 at 5:53 am #

    I think I would be Lila or maybe Jessica

  8. Jenn October 15, 2010 at 11:10 am #

    I was going to say that if I were Margo, I would become Tricia Martin, but she already has enough lookalikes.

    So I’ll pick Regina Morrow, because then I could haunt people, and finally get revenge on Amy Slutton for stealing my boyfriend and driving me to do the drugs that killed me.

    Also, I could sleep with Bruce. (Crap, was that out loud?)

  9. Madam Meow October 16, 2010 at 4:50 am #

    I would definitely want to be Lila. Then I would have enough money to be able to do what is ever necessary to cover up the crime. Also, it would be effortless to adjust to her life since I (Margo) am as big of a sassy fun bitch as Lila is anyway.

  10. winstonegbert October 17, 2010 at 10:25 am #

    So much love for Lila! Wow! And there is no shame in wanting to sleep with Bruce. None.

  11. katie. October 22, 2010 at 1:52 pm #

    Obviously, I would become Lila. She lives in a mansion and gets whatever she wants. In fact, I was pretty convinced for a while that Margo *did* steal Lila’s identity, during that whole arson fiasco.

    If I couldn’t be Lila, I’d be Annie Whitman. Except instead of a knife, my weapon of choice would be STDs.

  12. Emily October 23, 2010 at 1:07 pm #

    Not only is this what I would do, but I actually believe Margo succeeded in becoming Enid aka Alexandra. Such a dramatic change in such a short period of time, and what better way to get close to the twins? RIP Enid, long live Margo!


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