Read The Blind Date Online

Authors: Melody Carlson

Tags: #JUV033200, #Dating (Social customs)—Fiction, #Clubs—Fiction, #Friendship—Fiction, #High schools—Fiction, #Schools—Fiction, #Christian life—Fiction

The Blind Date (14 page)

15

D
evon hadn't told any of her friends that her mom had gone off with Rodney again. It wasn't Vegas, but it might as well have been since she was not coming back until Monday evening. And this time she had not even made any provision for Devon to camp out at Emma's house. Not that Devon wanted to. That hadn't gone so well the last time. Not only had Devon and Emma squabbled, but Emma's mom had seemed put out at Devon's mom for dumping Devon on her. And for that reason, Devon didn't plan to confide to any of her friends about her AWOL mom. She didn't even tell her aunt when she got her hair done. Devon figured if Mom hadn't bothered to tell anyone besides Devon, she must've wanted it to be a secret. And keeping it secret was exactly what Devon intended to do.

She also intended to make the most of her mom's absence. And to that end she had a plan. Of sorts. Okay, the plan was sketchy at best, but if all went well it could prove to be fun.
For starters, Devon had spent more than an hour cleaning house. Normally, housework was the last thing on Devon's mind, but since her mom was away for a few days, Devon decided it was time to do some “entertaining.” And having laundry baskets and junk strewn all over the place was not exactly conducive to that. After the house was straightened up some, Devon did some exploring in her mom's bedroom, and just as she suspected, Mom had a secret stash of alcohol there. How convenient.

Devon had arranged the various bottles on the breakfast bar, along with some cans of soda, some glasses, a big bowl of Doritos, and a smaller bowl of peanuts. Okay, it wasn't The Ritz, but it would do. And since she was into living dangerously, Devon even made herself a drink, mixing vodka and Coke. Okay, maybe it wasn't a real drink with a fancy name, but it was definitely alcohol. And as soon as she had her Juliet costume on, and before Cassidy showed up to give her a ride over to Bryn's grandparents' house, Devon had chugged it down.

But Devon hadn't stopped there. She had also found a nice little flask in her mom's things. This she filled with straight vodka and tucked into the little embroidered purse that she was using with her Juliet costume. She had no idea what she really planned to do with the alcohol—well, besides have fun. And she intended to have fun!

Now Devon played with the strings of her purse as she sat in Mrs. Jacobs's front parlor. This old-fashioned room was filled with flowery-looking furnishings and carved antique pieces—almost like going back in time. As she waited, Devon was enjoying a happy little buzz and imagining her handsome Romeo taking her into his arms, telling her how beautiful she looked, and kissing her passionately.

She envisioned her Romeo as a hot guy like Lane Granger, Marcus Zimmerman, Kent Renner, or even Jason Levine—despite her claim that she was never speaking to that particular jerk again. She reached up to touch her curls, making sure they were still in place. Then she looked down at the wide, scooped neckline of the Juliet dress, ensuring that the low cut was making the most of her endowments. Where was Romeo anyway?

As if on cue, she heard the doorknob to the parlor turning, and there, dressed in all his glory—tights and poufy shorts and fluffy sleeves and all—stood her Romeo. And he didn't look half bad. Although the fake mustache would have to go. Romeo wasn't supposed to have a mustache! He was only a young teen. Okay, he was a hormone-driven young teen, but Devon felt certain he would not have a mustache.

“Juliet?” he said tentatively.

“Romeo, Romeo,” she said dramatically. “Where hast thou been?”

“I—uh—I was in the limo.”

“Yeah, I know.” She rolled her eyes as she went closer to inspect her prize. Between the eye mask and mustache, it was impossible to guess. But he had good height. And his dark curly hair actually added to the whole Romeo look. She knew that Lane Granger had dark curly hair. And Kent had dark hair too. “You look familiar,” she said as she checked him out carefully.

“You look familiar too, uh, Juliet.” His voice cracked ever so slightly.

Naturally, she found that irritating. “Why don't we sit down,” she said, returning to the flowered sofa and patting the spot next to her. “I see you got yourself something to eat.”

“Uh-huh.” He sat down a couple of feet from her, almost as if he was scared. Or intimidated. Well, that was okay. She knew that her looks sometimes intimidated guys, and she liked that.

“How was the limo ride?” she asked somewhat absently. She wanted to get him to talk, hoping she'd recognize his voice and figure out who he really was.

“Uh, it was okay.”

“Anyone I know in the limo?” she asked.

“Just a scarecrow and the Gatsby guy and someone from
The Hunger Games.
And I can't remember who the other guy was supposed to be. A knight, I think.”

“A knight?” Devon was confused. “Oh, you must mean Mr. Knightley.”

“Yeah. That's it.”

She adjusted her eye mask to see him better, hoping she could place him. “Really, Romeo,” she said with irritation. “When did you grow the mustache?”

He laughed, reaching up to finger it. “Oh, that. It's not real.”

“No!” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “I never would've guessed.”

“You look really pretty,” he said nervously and his voice broke again.

“Do you actually go to our school?” she demanded. “To Northwood?”

“Yeah, sure. Of course.”

She pursed her lips. “Do I know you?”

“Of course. I'm Romeo, remember?”

“Oh, that's right.” She folded her arms in front of her and crossed her legs. Something about this felt wrong. Really wrong.

“So, Romeo,” she said in what she hoped was an enticing tone. “Tell me, who arranged this date? Which of my friends picked you out for me?” For some reason she suspected it was Bryn. It wouldn't surprise her if Bryn tried something like this—a way to humiliate Devon for taking the Juliet dress.

“Am I supposed to tell?” he asked.

“It doesn't matter now,” she assured him. “We'll all find out tonight anyway.”

“Oh, okay. Well, it was Abby.”

“Abby?” Devon was surprised by this. Abby was usually a pretty thoughtful sort of girl. “So, tell me, Romeo . . . are you good friends with Abby?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. I guess so.”

“Uh-huh . . . I see. . . .” Now she wondered if he was an athletic friend of Abby's. He didn't seem very muscular, but perhaps he played soccer or lacrosse. And those kids usually had brains. And sometimes their families had money. And if that was the case, maybe Devon should just make the best of it with him. After all, if this kid was athletic and had both brains and money—how bad could it be? And he didn't even seem terribly bad looking with all that dark curly hair. It might even be fun to do some serious flirting with a guy like this. However, something about her date did not quite add up. Nothing in the way he spoke or acted seemed to suggest he was particularly intelligent. And he lacked confidence, which she found irritating.

“Would you mind excusing me?” he asked suddenly.

“Excusing you? For what?”

“I—uh—I need to use the, uh, the restroom.”

Devon rolled her eyes, then waved him away. “Yes, please—go and take care of . . .
whatever
.”

After he left, Devon suspected that it was nearly time for them to all reconvene. And since she couldn't wait to get her hands—or even her claws—onto Abby, she decided to venture out. As luck would have it, she discovered Abby and Kent in the dining room. And the two of them seemed intent upon making pigs of themselves.

“Did you save anything for the rest of us?” As Devon reached for a carrot stick, she carefully eyed Abby, trying to decide how to handle this.

“Hey, we are part of
The Hunger Games
,” Kent told her. “We hold food in very high esteem.”

Abby giggled nervously. “How's your date?”

“What date?” Devon locked her eyes onto Abby. Was it her imagination, or was Abby actually squirming?

“Your blind date,” Abby said.

“I don't know, Abby. How
is
my date?”

Abby turned to Kent as if looking for help.

“Where is your date?” Kent asked Devon.

“He went to the little boys' room,” Devon said evenly, keeping her eyes locked on Abby.

“That's a good idea.” Abby stepped back from Devon. “Maybe I'll make a visit to the little girls' room myself.”

“Not without me, you won't.” Devon glared at her.

“I'll warn you,” Abby told her. “It's a one-seater.”

Kent laughed as some of the others started to trickle into the dining room, including Bryn's grandparents, who were armed with cameras.

“Excuse me,” Abby quietly told Kent. “I'll be right back.” And before Devon could intervene—and as the room grew crowded and busy and loud—Abby exited the dining room and disappeared out of sight.

“Let me through here,” Devon insisted as she attempted to push past Emma and Isaac and Bryn's grandfather. But even as she got beyond them, Kent managed to block the door by doing a silly little dance as he pretended to be unable to decide which side to go to. Naturally this slowed her down considerably.

When she finally got out of the room, she had no idea which way Abby had gone, but she was madder than ever now. Since she was Bryn's best friend, Abby probably knew her way around this big house much better than Devon. Even so, Devon was determined to find Abby and have a word with her—and to find out exactly who was playing Romeo.

Devon checked the laundry room and the powder room and even the big four-car garage. She opened the basement door, peering down the dark stairs. Then she went upstairs, and after checking behind several doors with no success, she heard Bryn downstairs calling out.

“Okay, everyone, it's time to go to the dance. Everyone into the limo now. Let's go, people! Where is Devon?”

“I'm coming,” Devon yelled as she hurried down the stairs. As she reached the foyer, she could see that the others were already on their way out to the limo. Since it was raining, everyone was making a dash to the car, laughing as they went. Having fun.

“It's about time,” Bryn said when she saw Devon. Then she grabbed the hand of a guy dressed like Jay Gatsby. “Come on, let's go.”

“There you are.” Romeo nervously rubbed his hands together as he looked at Devon. “Everything, uh, okay?”

“Oh, yeah.” She narrowed her eyes. “Everything is just peachy.”

“Ready to go then?”

“I am
more
than ready,” she snapped. Then she looped her arm into his and literally dragged him toward the door. “Are you coming or not?”

“I need to get my coat.” He slowed down to reach for a beige jacket hanging by the door. “Don't you have a coat, uh, Juliet?”

“I don't need a coat,” she growled. “I've got your love to keep me warm,
right
?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess so.”

“Come on!” She gave his arm a sharp tug. “Let's go.”

They were the last ones into the limo, and the others—all who seemed to be in surprisingly good spirits—teased them as they got inside.

“Figures Romeo and Juliet were dillydallying,” Emma said.

“You know how star-crossed lovers can be,” Bryn added.

Devon searched the limo for Abby and Kent. “I want to sit there,” she demanded, pointing to where Emma was sitting.

“Sorry, that seat's taken,” Isaac told her.

“Then that side,” Devon pointed to where Bryn and her date were seated.

“Sorry,” Bryn said. “We're good to go,” she called out to the driver, knocking on the window between them.

“There's room here,” Cassidy said as the limo took off. But Cassidy and her scarecrow friend were clear on the other end.

“We better sit,” Romeo said as he went over to sit by the scarecrow. “How's the allergy going?” he asked.

“Better. The medicine helped.”

Devon glared at Abby, who was ignoring her, as she sat down next to Cassidy. “This sucks!” she grumbled.

“What's wrong?” Cassidy asked with what seemed genuine concern.

“My date,” Devon whispered. “Abby set me up with a geek.”

Cassidy leaned over to peer at Romeo. She shrugged. “Seems okay to me,” she whispered back. “Makes a good-looking Romeo, don't you think?”

“I think he's a dud,” Devon hissed.

“Give him a chance,” Cassidy urged.

“Why?” Devon glared at her.

“Why not?”

Devon folded her arms tightly across her front, staring straight forward to where Abby was sitting with Bryn and Emma and their dates—watching how they were all laughing and joking and thoroughly enjoying themselves. Well, except for Abby. She was the quiet one of the group. Oh, she tried to act like she was engaging, but she clearly was not. Abby obviously felt guilty. She should feel guilty.

Devon looked back at Cassidy now, suddenly remembering that she'd set Cass up with a somewhat nerdy guy. “Uh, how's your blind date?” Devon asked her quietly.

“Great.” Cassidy turned to grin at her date. “He's a fine Scarecrow.”

“Oh, well . . . good. Glad to hear it.”

Cassidy gave Devon a knowing look. “Don't you mean that you're
surprised
to hear it?”

Devon shrugged. “It's a blind date. Who knows how it will go?”

“That's right,” Cassidy told her. “Same way for you, right?”

Devon looked over to where Romeo was sitting next to the scarecrow and looking very uneasy. With his crooked fake mustache, and wearing his beige coat over his costume with his long, skinny legs clad in black tights and sticking
out, he looked like a total goofball. She looked down at her own dress. She knew she looked great in it. She knew that most guys would be glad to be her date. And yet she got stuck with
that
.

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