The Blind Date (12 page)

Abby made a mock salute. “Aye-aye, sir.”

“Very funny.” Bryn checked out her reflection in the mirror again. “I do not look the least bit like a sir, thank you very
much.” She turned back around and began assigning the girls to various parts of the house. Fortunately, her grandparents' home was large so there was plenty of space. “Don't forget about the appetizers,” she reminded them. “I don't want Gram to feel bad.” She looked at the clock again. “The guys should be here in about five minutes.” She held a finger in the air. “I have a new idea. Let's all go down right now and get ourselves some food and then get settled in our various stations to wait. My grandpa will greet the guys and encourage them to get some food before he directs them to their separate spaces where we'll be waiting.” She liked how this was shaping up. “I'll write down for him where to take the guys just in case he forgets.” She smiled at her friends. “Does that work?”

They all agreed it was a good plan, but their expressions were completely different. With her arms folded across her front, Emma looked slightly impatient. Meanwhile, Cassidy was pacing back and forth as if she was seriously worried. Abby looked just plain unhappy. And Devon, with a creased brow, seemed somewhat irritated.

“Okay,” Bryn told them. “Let's go down and get this party started. And, oh yeah, don't forget to put on your eye masks. They're all down by the front door.”

As Bryn led the entourage down the stairs, she wondered who would be playing her Great Gatsby tonight. She had several guys in mind, and any one of them would look great as Jay.

“There you all are,” Gram said as they came into the dining room. Then both Bryn's grandparents admired the costumes and even took some candid photos as the girls filled plates with appetizers.

Meanwhile Bryn explained the plan to Grandpa. “Let's see . . . Dorothy will be in the sunroom. Take the scarecrow to her.”

“Dorothy and the scarecrow in the sunroom.”

“Emma in the library with Mr. Knightley.”

“This is kind of like playing Clue,” he teased as he wrote. “Will Emma have a lead pipe or a wrench by any chance?”

“No.” Bryn laughed. “But Katniss aka Abby has a bow and arrows. She'll be in the basement with Peeta.”

“Got it,” he said.

“Juliet in Gram's parlor with Romeo. And I'll be in the pool room.”

“Maybe you should say the
billiards
room.” He winked. “Doesn't that sound more appropriate for
The Great Gatsby
?”

“You're right.” She adjusted her beaded headdress.

He grinned as he tucked the note into his pocket and picked up his camcorder. “I'll get as much footage as I can,” he promised. “Maybe you'll want to post it on one of those facetube websites.”

She laughed. “You mean YouTube. Or maybe Facebook.” Then with her eye mask in place, Bryn carried her plate of food and a cup of punch to the pool/billiards room and prepared to wait. She really wasn't nervous. She knew she looked awesome. She knew that whoever her date was would think she looked awesome too. Mostly she just wanted to get on with it. She rolled the cue ball across the table, bouncing it off the bumper again and again.

“Hello
?”
She turned to see a guy wearing a black suit entering the room. “I'm Jay Gatsby,” he said in a slightly nervous voice. Beneath his classic black jacket he had on a crisp white shirt and a neat black bow tie. Very Gatsby-like. However,
he wasn't very tall. She estimated that he was barely as tall as she was in these not-so-high heels. But he did have a nice firm chin.

She smiled and held out her hand. “I'm Daisy Buchanan,” she said in a sweet voice, trying to add just a touch of a southern accent since Daisy was from Kentucky. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Jay.” She studied him closely as he took her hand in his. He had a strong grasp and he seemed slightly familiar, but with the eye mask on, she couldn't be sure who he was. However, the brown hair, which was combed smoothly back, seemed vaguely familiar.

“Pleased to meet you, Daisy.” He smiled as if he meant it. “You look very beautiful tonight.”

“Thank you.” She pointed at the plate in his hand. “I see you got yourself a little something to eat.”

He nodded, his mouth twisting to one side as if he was about to speak and then decided differently. But something about that movement tickled some corner of her memory. This guy was definitely familiar.
But who was he?
She pointed to a wingback leather chair. “Care to sit?” she asked. “So you can eat.”

“Thank you.” He went over to the chair and then, as if unwilling to sit while she was still standing, he waited.

“Go ahead,” she said. “I'd rather stand if you don't mind.”

“Okay.” He slowly sat, balancing the plate on his knees. “Thanks.”

She watched him carefully as she strolled back and forth, running her hand along the polished wood of the pool table. He was definitely familiar to her. Even his voice sounded familiar. But she could not quite identify it. “I think we've met before,” she said softly, trying to remain in character.

He nodded as he took a bite of crab cake. “Yes . . . I'm certain of it.”

“So you recognize me?”

He nodded again, still chewing. “Yes . . . yes, I do.” His mouth twisted to one side again—that same familiar gesture.

And that's when it hit her. “
Darrell Zuckerman?
” she exclaimed. In that same moment, she pulled off her eye mask and stared at her date in complete horror. “No way! Darrell Zuckerman? You're my blind date?”

He made an apologetic smile, then shrugged, slowly removing his eye mask. “You guessed it.”

A wide gamut of emotions swept through her all at once. She felt seriously angry, outraged even. Who had done this to her? And in the next moment she felt slightly ashamed of herself. After all, Darrell was actually a pretty sweet guy—and a great lab partner in chemistry.
But
a date?
That was absolutely nuts!

She was pacing again, trying to figure a way out of this mess.

“I'm sorry to disappoint you.”

She turned around and glared at him. “Who did—” She paused, taking in a deep breath, trying to calm herself—even silently counting to ten. “Uh . . . I'm just curious . . . who set up the blind date?” she asked in a falsely sweet voice. “Which one of my friends?”

“Cassidy Banks.”

“Ah . . .” She pressed her lips together, inwardly seething. “Dear, sweet Cassidy.”

“I can see you're upset.” He set his plate of food on a side table and slowly stood.

“I'm . . . just pretty shocked. That's all.”

“I didn't know you were going to be my date, Bryn. If
I'd known you were who Cassidy was setting me up with, I would've said no right from the start.”

She blinked in surprise. “You would've said
no
?”

“Absolutely.” He nodded firmly.

“Seriously? You wouldn't have gone out with me if you'd known?” Now she felt indignant. Darrell Zuckerman was too good for her? It felt like the world was turning itself upside down. If this was supposed to be a joke, it was not funny.

“Hey, I might be a nerd, Bryn, but I'm not ignorant.”

“Yes, Darrell, I'm well aware of that.” She folded her arms across her front, controlling herself from really tearing into him as she spoke her mind.

“You're a nice girl and a good lab partner, but I know you never would've agreed to go out with me. Not of your own free will.” He shoved his hands into his pants pockets, looking down at his feet as if he was embarrassed or maybe even angry. And really, he had every right to be angry. They both did. This was a mess. A tragic mess. Suddenly she remembered what Abby had said to her earlier—pointing out how selfish Daisy Buchanan had been, how she had ruined Jay Gatsby's life by being so shallow. Wasn't that exactly how Bryn was acting right now?

“I'm sorry, Darrell,” she said quietly. “I honestly don't know what to say. I just felt kind of blindsided, you know?”

“Hey, I know exactly how you feel. This is seriously messed up. Cassidy
never
should've done this.” He scowled darkly. “She's the one to blame.”

Bryn could tell he was trying to act tough, but she could see that beneath his anger, he was hurt. Maybe even deeply hurt. And she knew it was her fault. “I'm sorry,” she said again. “Really, I am.”

“Forget about it.” He nodded with a grim expression. “Anyway, I've had enough of this game. I think I should go.” He started for the door.

“Wait, Darrell.” She put her hand on his arm. “Please don't go.”

He looked at her with a confused expression. “Why?”

“Because we have a date,” she said with determination.

“Really?” He looked skeptical.

“Yes.” She looked directly into his gray-blue eyes. “We do.”

“Look, Bryn, I don't want a pity date from you. Understand?”

Now she remembered what Gram had said about Grandpa. And suddenly she saw Darrell through a different set of eyes. “This is
not
a pity date, Darrell.” She gave him a genuine smile. “I swear to you, it's not. I want to go to the dance with you. I want you to be my Jay Gatsby.”

He looked totally perplexed and still somewhat angry. “Are you sure about this?”

“I'm absolutely, positively sure.”

“You're not punking me again?”

She shook her head no, then giggled. “I just have one teeny tiny little question, Darrell.”

“What now?” He glowered at her.

“I know you're a genius, Darrell, but do you know how to dance?”

His stormy countenance broke into a crooked grin
.
“Do I know how to dance?”

“Yeah.” She felt a surge of hope. “Do you?”

“My mom made me take dance lessons when I was in grade school,” he confessed. “I hated it at first, but then it kind of grew on me.” He chuckled. “And when I heard I was playing
Jay Gatsby, well, I even brushed up on the Charleston and a few other jazz-era dances.”

“Seriously?” She could not believe her luck.

“Oh, yeah.” He gave her a sassy wink. “I know how to cut a rug.”

She glanced at the clock on the back wall, then linked her arm into his. “So, Jay, what are we waiting for?” They put their eye masks back on and went out to find how the others were faring.

E
mma went to the library to wait for her blind date. She felt a little nervous as she nibbled at the appetizers Mrs. Jacobs had prepared for them, but Emma had already decided that no matter who her date was—whether he was a nerd, geek, jerk, jock, loser, dud, whatever—she was going to treat him with kindness and grace. Sort of like Emma Woodhouse would do—well, at least by the end of the book after Miss Woodhouse finally learned her lesson. Anyway, that was what Emma hoped and planned to do. She just wished that all the members of the DG would do the same. Keep your chin up, take the high road, keep a stiff upper lip—and all those other British idioms that sounded a bit silly if one wasn't a Brit.

As Emma sipped her punch and perused the bookshelves, she wondered how Bryn was doing with her blind date right now. Cassidy had never actually revealed who she'd set Bryn up with, but Emma knew that it had the makings of a disaster.
She also knew that if Bryn wanted to, she could not only make her blind date miserable, she could make all of them miserable. And so, just like she'd promised Cassidy—and like she'd been doing the past couple of days—Emma prayed. She specifically prayed that God would bring some kind of goodness out of what seemed to have the potential to blow up in all of their faces. She prayed for a miracle. She was just whispering “amen” when she heard the door to the library open. She reached for her eye mask, made sure it was secure, then turned around.

“Mr. Knightley, I presume,” she said with her best attempt at a proper British accent, just the way she'd practiced it earlier this afternoon.

“Emma Woodhouse?” the guy said, playing along as he held his eye mask in place. As he came closer, his lips broke into a smile as if he was pleased to see her.

She peered closely at him. Was it possible? Was that Isaac? Had she really landed her dream date in this little game?

“You look very pretty, uh, Emma.” With a plate of appetizers in his hand, he approached her.

She nodded. “Thank you. You look very nice too.” She took in his dark gray pants, his old-fashioned light gray jacket which must've been rented from the drama department, and the narrow tie on the pale blue ruffled shirt. Okay, maybe he wasn't exactly eighteenth century, but he had certainly tried.

“So, we're supposed to get better acquainted,” he said.

“Would you like to sit down?” She pointed to a pair of chairs flanking the window, and soon they were both seated and she didn't know what to say. She took a sip of punch and tried not to look too happy.

“I knew it was going to be you,” he said quietly.

“Really?” She fingered the eye mask. “So you know who I am?”

“You're Emma.”

“Yes, obviously. And you're Mr. Knightley.”

He chuckled. “You really don't know who I am?”

She grinned. “Yes, Isaac, I knew the minute I saw you.”

He removed his mask. “Well, I knew as soon as Bryn told me I was supposed to dress as Mr. Knightley so I could go out with Emma Woodhouse.”

“But you never told anyone?” She removed her mask now, glad to be rid of it.

“Those were the rules.” He beamed at her.

“Well, I must admit that I was relieved to see it was you.”

“Who did you think you'd get?”

She shrugged. “I was preparing myself for the worst.”

“So I'm not the worst?”

She laughed. “Hardly.”

“Well, it was an interesting limo ride over here,” he told her.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, it was an interesting mix of guys.”

She leaned toward him with curiosity. “Which guys?”

“Will I get in trouble if I tell you?”

She shrugged. “I don't see why. I mean, everyone knows who their dates are by now.”

He slowly shook his head like he was in disbelief. “I'll just say this, there are some girls' faces I'd like to see right now. I'd like to know how they're reacting to their blind dates.”

“What do you mean?” she said eagerly. “Tell me everything, Isaac!”

“Okay.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Well, when the limo picked me up, only Kent was inside.”

She nodded. “Yes. I picked Kent for Abby. I'm sure she'll be happy about that.”

“Yeah. And he'll be happy too. The lucky guy.”

Emma frowned. “Because he's with Abby?”

“Well, yeah, but not exactly. I meant because he got to wear pretty normal-looking clothes. I guess he's supposed to be from
The Hunger Games
. I can't remember his name.”

“Peeta.”

“Yeah, that's right. So anyway, Kent was already there. And next we picked up Darrell Zuckerman.”

Emma blinked. “Seriously?”

“Uh-huh. I mean, I don't have anything against the guy. I know he's supposed to be some kind of genius. And everyone knows he's an atheist. But I honestly didn't expect to see him as one of the blind dates tonight. Kent and I were both pretty shocked. But we were friendly to him. He didn't seem to have any idea who he was going out with, but it seemed like he was being a good sport about it.”

“What was he dressed as?” she asked eagerly.

“He had on a black suit. At first I teased him, asking him who died. Then he told me he was supposed to be from the Roaring Twenties. Some guy named Gatsby.”

“Jay Gatsby,” she explained. “He's Bryn's date.”

Isaac looked stunned. “Bryn and Darrell? Wow, that's pretty random.”

She slowly nodded. “Tell me about it. Cassidy set them up, and she's been totally freaking over it.”

“She should be.”

“Why?”

“Because Darrell told us that if his date went wrong, he
was going to take revenge on the girl who had set him up. He didn't say her name, but he did say he'd make her sorry.”

“Poor Cass.”

Isaac nodded grimly. “I can't imagine that Bryn will take this too well.”

Emma felt slightly sick. “This could ruin the whole dance.”

He frowned. “The whole dance? Does that mean we can't have fun?” He pointed to his clothes. “I mean, a guy dresses like this and you tell him that it's all for nothing?”

She forced a smile. “No, it's not for nothing. We'll have fun. But Cassidy probably won't. And Bryn . . . well, I hate to even think about that.” She let out a sigh. “Who else was in the limo?”

“Okay, so the next guy who gets in is almost as weird as Darrell. Do you know Leonard Mansfield?”

“I know
who
he is.” Emma grimaced. Poor Leonard was considered one of the geekiest guys at Northwood. “But I don't really know him.”

“Well, you will after tonight.”

“Oh.” She pressed her lips together. Could this get any worse? She was almost afraid to ask. “So . . . uh . . . was Leonard dressed as, say, Romeo?”

Isaac nodded. “You nailed it, Emma. He said he got the costume from the drama department. He even had on tights, poor guy.”

“Poor guy.” She didn't even want to think of the fit Devon must be throwing right now. Perhaps it was a good thing they were all meeting in private after all. Cassidy had worked to convince Emma of this, causing her to be the swing vote that made certain it happened.

“Who's his date, anyway?”

“Devon.”

“Devon?” Isaac looked properly shocked. “No way. Devon and Leonard? That's quite a match.”

“Oh, yeah. She's dressed as Juliet. And I'm surprised we can't hear her screaming from here. But then she's in the parlor and that's on the other side of the house.”

“I wonder who set Devon up with someone like Leonard.”

Emma thought about this. “It has to be Abby.” She shook her head. “That explains why she's been acting so weird lately.”

“Huh?”

“Guilty conscience. Plus she's probably afraid that Devon is going to kill her. It's a good thing Abby is armed tonight.”

Isaac laughed.

“Both Abby and Cassidy are in some serious hot water.” Emma fingered a ribbon from her hat. “Speaking of Cassidy, I wonder who her date is tonight. Who was the last guy in the limo? That would have to be her date.”

“A guy I never met before. He's really new to school. His name is Russell—I didn't catch the last name. The poor guy was having some severe allergy problems.”

“Allergy problems?”

“Yeah, he was dressed as a scarecrow and I think the straw was making him sneeze.”

“Oh, yeah. That makes sense.”

“The sneezing?”

“No, that he's a scarecrow. Cassidy is Dorothy from
The Wizard of
Oz
. Anyway, how did he seem?”

“Sneezy?”

Emma laughed. “Well, at least Cassidy ought to be civi
lized to him. I can't say the same for Bryn and Devon and their poor dates.”

“Hopefully someone will get him some allergy medicine before the dance.”

Emma smiled at Isaac. “I'm so glad you're my date,” she told him.

He grinned back. “Me too. I think we're the ones who got lucky tonight.”

She looked at the clock up on the bookshelf and knew that it was almost time to join the others. However, she really didn't want to. She wouldn't have minded remaining in here and talking to Isaac all night long. She definitely had gotten lucky with her blind date. Of course, this reminded her that she owed Bryn some serious gratitude for setting her up. And then she remembered how angry and jealous she'd gotten at Bryn for merely talking to Isaac a week or so ago. Emma had been such a witch about it. And sweet Bryn had probably just been working on this date for her.

Now Bryn was stuck with the likes of Darrell Zuckerman. Emma felt unreasonably disappointed at Cassidy. Could Cassidy have done any worse? To match poor Bryn with someone like Darrell Zuckerman—a geek and an atheist. It wasn't just unkind, it was downright mean. Emma glanced uneasily at Isaac as he finished off his punch. Bryn had landed the perfect date for Emma tonight. As a result, Emma owed Bryn big time. So even if Emma had to share Isaac with Bryn at the dance tonight, it was the least she could do. Somehow she had to make it up to Bryn. She just hoped that Isaac wouldn't mind. But then why would he mind? What normal teenage guy wouldn't love to go out on the dance floor with a girl as stunning as Bryn Jacobs?