The Blind Date

© 2014 by Melody Carlson

Published by Revell

a division of Baker Publishing Group

P.O. Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287

www
.
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.com

Ebook edition created 2014

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

ISBN 978-1-4412-4514-4

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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Sneak Peek of Dating Games #3

About the Author

Books by Melody Carlson

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I
t wasn't that Emma Parks didn't trust Devon Fremont. Except that she just didn't. The sad part was that Emma and Devon had been “best friends since diaper days”—or so their moms both claimed. But sometimes Emma doubted this. Or maybe she just remembered things differently. Like what about the time Devon whacked Emma in the forehead with Malibu Barbie's hot-pink convertible, leaving a small scar that was still visible when Emma was upset? Or how about when Devon dared her to sample fish fertilizer and Emma had hurled all over the Fremonts' new riding lawnmower—and then had been forced to clean it up while Devon watched with a devilish sparkle in her dark brown eyes?

Although it had seemed pretty cool when Devon had transferred to Emma's high school at the beginning of the school year—and despite the fact they were both members of the DG (Dating Games club)—Emma knew she needed to watch her back where Devon was concerned. This had been driven
soundly home when Emma caught Devon flirting—
blatantly flirting
—with Isaac McKinley today. Less than a week after Isaac had taken Emma to the homecoming dance. Apparently that date had meant nothing!

“I don't know why you're even surprised,” Cassidy Banks said nonchalantly as she drove Emma home from school on Friday.

“I guess I'm not surprised,” Emma admitted. “More like hurt.”

“But you know that's who Devon is,” Cassidy reminded her. “Flirting is like breathing to that girl.”

“Maybe so, but she knows that I still like Isaac.”

“Really?” Cassidy's tone was incredulous. “Even though you've been going on and on about how you guys are just friends?”

“We
are
friends,” Emma argued.

“I know. But all week you've been acting like that's all there is to it. Just friends.”

“Because I don't want to push things too fast with Isaac. I mean, we both had fun at the homecoming dance. It was a cool event. But it's not like we're boyfriend-girlfriend now. You know?” Emma bit into her lip. Was that how she really felt, or was that how she wanted her friends to think she felt? Because what if everyone knew that she really was into Isaac, but his feelings toward her were . . . well, not so much?

“My point exactly, Em. You're acting like Isaac is
just your
friend
. And, well, maybe in Devon's mind that means he's fair game. You can't really blame her. Isaac is a nice guy.”

“Are you kidding me?” Emma stared at Cassidy in disbelief.

“You're saying he's
not
a nice guy?”

“Of course, he's a nice guy!” Emma sputtered. “But are
you seriously defending Devon on this? You of all people would take her side over mine?”

“I'm not siding with anyone,” Cassidy clarified. “Just trying to be fair.”

“I remember a time—not so long ago—when you couldn't stand Devon,” Emma challenged. “You were always picking on her.”

“Yeah, I know.” Cassidy looked slightly contrite. “I'm trying to change my ways, Em.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.” Cassidy made a sheepish grin. “We're supposed to love our enemies. Remember?”

Despite her irritation, Emma laughed.

“And I'll admit it's not easy, but I've been making progress. Baby steps, you know?”

“So . . . you think of Devon like that?” Suddenly Emma felt a tinge of pity for her childhood friend. “Like she's an enemy?”

Cassidy shrugged. “Well, as you know, Devon and I have had our moments. And it's not like I approve of everything she does—that's for sure. But she's in the DG, so we have to get along.”

“Like the old saying—keep your friends close and your enemies closer?” Emma teased. “But, seriously, do you think of Devon as the enemy?” Even though Emma didn't trust Devon, she wouldn't categorize her as an enemy.

“No, I don't really think she's my enemy.” Cassidy slowly shook her head as she turned onto Emma's street. “And, in case you haven't noticed, I'm trying to be a better friend to her. I think she needs some good friends.”

“I know.” Emma sighed. “You're right.”

“I really don't get why you're so bummed over Devon flirting with Isaac.” Cassidy parked in front of Emma's house. “I've seen her pull the exact same stuff with Lane, and even though I like him, I try to just take it in stride. I mean, hey, if Lane's into that . . . well, maybe it's better to step back and watch him make a great big fool of himself.”

“Really?” Emma wasn't so sure. “You don't feel a little jealous?”

“Sure. But maybe it takes a girl like Devon to reveal Lane's true character.” Cassidy tossed a long strand of her thick dark hair over her shoulder in a nonchalant sort of way.

“
Lane's
true character?”

“You know—if he likes being hit on by a flirt like Devon, then maybe he's just a jerk and maybe I'm better off without him. And same thing for you and Isaac. Don't you think so?”

“Maybe . . . except, what guy wouldn't enjoy being hit on by a girl like Devon? You've seen her—she hangs all over them, treats them like hotties, acts like she wants to jump—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Cassidy cut her off. “What I'm saying is that if Lane is into that, well, let him go for it. But you'll find me heading in the opposite direction.”

Emma frowned. “Okay, I get that. But don't forget how teen guys' minds work. Pastor Barry is always reminding us of this fact. You know, the HH factor—teen guys are only—”

“Human and hormonal,” Cassidy finished, and they both laughed.

Emma pointed triumphantly in the air. “But, hey, what about the DG
rules
?”

“What about them?” Cassidy drummed her fingers on the steering wheel like she was eager to end this conversation and be on her way.

“We're not supposed to steal a DG member's boyfriend,
remember
?”

“But, like you just said, Emma—Isaac is
not
your boyfriend.
Remember?
”

Emma let out a long sigh. “Yeah . . . okay . . . But do you blame me for being aggravated at Devon? I mean, a lot of the time she claims that she's my best friend. Is that how a friend treats a friend?”

Cassidy made a lopsided smile. “I think Devon still has a lot to learn about being a friend. A friend to a
girl
anyway.”

“Yeah. Devon seems to have the guy thing down, but when it comes to girls she needs to go back to kindergarten.” Emma grinned as she reached for her bag. “Come to think of it, she didn't even have the friend thing down in kindergarten.”

“So don't let her get to you,” Cassidy called as Emma got out of the car.

Emma leaned back in, peering curiously at Cass. “I'm still trying to wrap my brain around this, Cass. You being so understanding when it comes to Devon—especially when I think of how she's treated you in the past. How'd you get here from there?”

Cassidy shrugged. “I just remember how hurt and helpless she seemed last week—you know, after Jason abandoned her up at the quarry after the homecoming dance. She seemed so lost and sad, and even though she tried to cover it with anger, I could tell she was frightened. It's like I began to see her differently that night.”

Emma nodded. “Yeah, I get that. And when I think about some of the stuff that's happened in her life—like her parents' messy divorce and how they both pretty much ignore her now—well, I guess I do feel kinda sorry for her too.” She
sighed. “Thanks for the reminder.” Emma waved as she shut the car door, and as she walked up to her house she realized how much she appreciated Cassidy's friendship. Sure, they hadn't been friends for as long as Devon, but Emma knew that Cass was the kind of friend she could depend on in almost any situation. Unlike Devon.

And as she unlocked the front door, she knew that Cassidy was absolutely right. Devon did need some good friends in her life. And she definitely needed friends who were not boys!

As Emma went inside, she heard her phone chiming from inside her bag. Fishing it out, she cringed to see the display. “Speak of the Devon,” she said aloud. Of course, Devon was texting her—demanding that Emma call back
ASAP
. Out of habit, Emma reached for speed-dial—but then she stopped herself, pausing as the image of Devon flashed through her mind again. Emma could still see Devon clearly. She had on that snug-fitting, low-cut shirt as she leaned into Isaac, fluttering her eyelashes as she tucked a strand of fiery auburn hair behind an ear and gazed intently into Isaac's pleasantly surprised face. In Emma's imagination Devon looked like a hungry predator—and Isaac was her unsuspecting prey.

Now Emma glanced at her own image in the mirror by the front door. Mom had placed the mirror there as a reminder that they both needed to give themselves a last-minute check before leaving the house. Running her fingers through her short, layered and highlighted hair, Emma knew that her looks had improved a lot since her recent makeover—much of it at the hand of Devon. But even so, she would never turn heads—not the way Devon did. Truthfully, Emma didn't want to do that. Being flashy might be okay for Devon, but it was not Emma's style. She looked at the phone still in her hand.

“No way,” she declared as she dropped it back into her bag and tossed it onto a nearby chair. Devon would have to wait. Right now, Emma was hungry. Maybe after she'd polished off a bowl of cereal and some form of fruit she'd be in a better state of mind to respond to Devon's “urgent” text. Besides, what could be that important?

Emma took her time eating Rice Krispies, then took an apple with her to the computer, munching on it as she began to cruise the internet in search of some costume ideas. The next big DG date was planned for the masquerade ball that was only two weeks away now. This ball was the school's alternative to Halloween and, because Northwood Academy was a Christian institution, no ghoulish or evil sorts of costumes were allowed. According to the posters flanking the halls, the theme this year was literature. Everyone was supposed to come dressed as a book character.

Emma had always loved playing dress-up and creating costumes. Since she was probably on the tightest budget of everyone in the DG, she knew it was in her best interest to come prepared with some clever ideas and suggestions for tomorrow's meeting—ideas that would not cost too much.

As she scanned page after page of innovative costume ideas, printing out the ones that she thought had real merit, she completely forgot about calling Devon. Or at least that's what she told herself. However, she was fully aware that her phone, which she usually kept handy, was still in her bag, still on the chair by the door right where she'd dropped it.

She was printing out a photo of a Raggedy Ann costume when she heard the doorbell ring. Knowing that her mom wasn't around to answer it, she hurried out to see who was there.

“Why didn't you call me back?” Devon demanded as she glared at Emma through the open door. It was raining outside and Devon's hair was dripping wet, which had made it go curly wild so that she resembled a female Carrot Top. It was a look that Emma knew Devon despised and would take her a couple of hours to remedy.

“Sorry.” Emma stepped back to let Devon inside. “I, uh, I kinda forgot.”

“Right.” Devon scowled as she peeled off her soggy jacket, giving it such a hard shake that Emma got thoroughly splattered. She tossed it onto the bench by the door, then kicked off her shoes. “I know you're avoiding me.”

“No, I'm not. I just—”

“Look, I'm sorry,
okay
? I know you saw me talking to Isaac at lunchtime. I know you got jealous.”

Emma blinked. “Really? You knew that?”

“Duh.” With hands on her hips she glowered at Emma.

“Well, how'd you expect me to feel?” Emma asked meekly.

“Like you're still my friend,” Devon declared. “You know me, Em. I like to flirt. It's just the way I'm wired. It's nothing personal.”

Emma slowly nodded. She wanted to point out that sometimes it felt pretty “personal” or that maybe Isaac thought it was “personal.” Instead, she kept those thoughts quiet. “So what's up, Devon? Why are you so stressed?”

“My mom!”
She balled her hands into fists, shaking them in the air. “I cannot believe her! She has lost her mind!”

“What's going on?”

“Has your mom said anything about it to you?” Devon stormed over to the sofa and flopped down.

“About what?”

“About my mom and Rodney.”

“Rodney?”

“My mom's new boyfriend.”

“Oh.” Emma tried to remember if Mom had mentioned this. “I, uh, I don't think so.”

“Well, Mom and Rodney took off for Vegas this morning.”

“What?” Emma sat across from Devon, trying to absorb what this meant. “Your mom ran off with her boyfriend? This Rodney dude?”

Devon nodded grimly. “Yep. They're gone.
To Vegas
, baby.
”

“To get married?” Emma felt slightly lost.

Devon shrugged as she slumped down onto the sofa cushions. “I doubt it. I mean, they only met a couple weeks ago. Who knows?”

“How long will they be in Vegas?” Emma asked.

“Well, since Mom has work on Monday, I'm guessing they'll be back by then.” Devon reached for a pillow, punching it as if it were responsible for her anguish. “But like I said, who knows?”

“So your mom left you home alone?”

“She wrote me a note saying that I was supposed to come over here while she's gone.” Devon smirked. “She obviously didn't know that my best friend was ticked at me.”

“I'm not ticked at you.”

“Whatever.” Devon rolled her eyes. “Apparently my mom spoke to your mom this morning—neatly arranging everything. So unless you want to throw me out, you're stuck with me until Sunday.” Devon folded her arms across her chest and scowled darkly. “Although I think I'm old enough to be home on my own for a few days. In fact, I think I'll just go home. You don't want me here anyway.”