The Blind Date (16 page)

“Yes, well, this little cottage is not quite as elegant as my mansion on the water,” she said with her southern accent. “But it will do in a pinch.”

He chuckled. “I had fun tonight, Bryn. Thanks for being such a good sport.”

“Good sport?” She frowned. “Don't you think I had fun too?”

“I was hoping you did.” He looked uncomfortable now.

“Well, I most certainly did.” She held out her hand to him and said with the accent, “And since this was our first date, I will offer you my hand, Mr. Gatsby.”

He grinned as he took it, giving it a firm shake.

“And I will look forward to getting better acquainted with you in the future,” she said in a proper tone, trying to imitate Daisy.

“As will I.” He released her hand, made a slight bow, and returned to the limo.

Bryn knew that the others were saying goodnight too, and not wanting to ruin anyone's special moment, she quietly unlocked the door and went inside to wait. It wasn't long until Cassidy joined her.

“Are Emma and Abby coming?” Bryn removed her shoes. “I want to get out of this dress and relax.”

“They're still out there with their beaus,” Cassidy whispered.

“K-i-s-s-i-n-g?” Bryn said in a teasing tone.

“Maybe.” Cassidy giggled. “I wasn't looking.”

“We'll get their story later,” Bryn whispered.

Emma and Abby eventually came into the house, both of them giggling.

“Shhh,” Bryn warned. “I promised we'd keep it quiet until we got downstairs.”

Now she ushered her three friends through the semi-dark house and down the stairs. “Okay,” she announced. “It's safe.”

“Wow, look at this food,” Cassidy declared as she stopped at the kitchenette counter that was loaded with snacks. She plucked up a brownie. “Those bunko ladies know how to eat.”

“And that's only part of it.” Bryn pointed at the fridge. “Mom said she'd put the perishable foods in there. But I'm getting out of this dress first.”

Everyone agreed that they should get into something more comfortable, but before long they were all pigging out on the bunko leftovers. For the most part, Bryn decided, it had been a great night. Well, sure, there had been a few little bumps along the way, but all in all, Bryn felt the evening had been a success. Except for Devon. Bryn wasn't even sure what to think about that. On one hand, she felt a tiny bit sorry for Devon. But on the other hand, Devon probably deserved whatever it was she had gotten—or was going to get.

T
he last thing Emma wanted to think about tonight was Devon Fremont. And yet she could hardly think of anything else. As the four girls lounged in Bryn's cozy basement, wearing sweats and pajamas and picking at the yummy bunko leftovers, Emma was painfully aware that one member of the DG was MIA.

Emma had discreetly checked her phone a couple of times since they got back. She figured that Devon would text her before the night was over, but so far there was nothing—not a word. As much as part of Emma wanted to totally ignore her spoiled friend, she went ahead and sent Devon a short text asking how she was doing.

Emma knew Devon well enough to know that even if she was seriously ticked, she would still text. In fact, some of Devon's longest messages were the result of extreme angst. Either that or she would simply send a blunt demand that Emma call her ASAP, because Devon was a talker. She always
needed to talk through her troubles, and Emma was always her best listener. But so far Devon appeared to be giving Emma the silent treatment tonight.

“Okay, it's your turn,” Bryn said, pointing to Emma. “Time to rate your date.”

Bryn had led off in the
rate your date
portion of their evening. She confessed how she'd nearly made the same mistake Devon had made and blown Darrell off earlier in the evening but how she had controlled herself and been pleasantly surprised that Darrell had turned out to be a sweet guy and a great date. After considering all the rating categories they'd come up with, Bryn had finally awarded Darrell with a total of twenty-two stars. Not bad considering that twenty-five was comparable to a handsome knight on a white horse.

Emma leaned over to see Cassidy's iPad to go over their checklist again. She was tempted to rate Isaac with top honors by giving him twenty-five stars simply because he had been such a great date. But to be fair to her friends, she wanted to do this right. “Hmm . . .” She carefully studied the list.

1. Promptness
   
2. Politeness
   
3. Respectfulness
   
4. Appearance
   
5. Fun
   

“Let's see . . . Well, I guess all the guys should get five stars for promptness,” she said. “Since they all arrived together and on time.”

“Yes, but were they always prompt?” Bryn countered. “Coming from the refreshment table, bathroom breaks, and whatever, did Isaac ever keep you waiting?”

Emma thought about it. “No, I'd still have to give him five stars. And I'll give him four stars for politeness. That's because I caught him gaping at Devon's cleavage once. So I guess I can only give him four stars for respectfulness too—since that was disrespectful to me. And I'll only give him four stars for appearance since his pants really were all wrong for Mr. Knightley. But he tried. I will give him five stars for fun.”

“That's a total of twenty-two,” Cassidy told her.

Emma shrugged. “How about you, Cass? How would you rate your date with Mr. Scarecrow?”

Cassidy grinned. “That's easy. Russell gets twenty-five.”

“Five stars all across?” Bryn looked skeptical.

“It's true,” Cassidy argued. “Russell was the perfect date.”

“What about all that sneezing and wheezing?” Bryn asked.

“He couldn't help that. And you could say he suffered like that for me since I needed a scarecrow to go with my Dorothy. Besides, the pill your grandmother gave him cleared it all up before the dance.” Cassidy nodded. “Yes, I'd say my scarecrow was just about perfect.”

“So are you in love?” Abby asked in a teasing tone.

“No way.” Cass laughed. “Not yet anyway. How about you, Abby? I thought I saw stars in your eyes tonight.
Are you in
love?
”

Abby giggled. “Kent is awesome, and I would venture to say that I'm in serious
like
.”

“And how would you rate your date?” Bryn asked curiously.

“Well, I can't think of a single thing Kent did wrong.” Abby sighed. “Seriously, he was so supportive when Devon acted like she wanted to kill me. And he made her meanness almost seem like it was part of
The Hunger
Games
. Like she was one of the competitors who was out to get
us. Really, it was kinda fun. Anyway, I have to give him a twenty-five too.”

“Too bad we don't have kissing on the list,” Bryn teased. “How would you and Emma rate your dates in that category?” She pointed to Abby first.

“Hmm . . .” Abby closed her eyes and sighed dreamily. “I'd have to give him a five there too.” She opened her eyes. “Just don't tell my dad.”

They all laughed.

“How about you, Em?” Bryn pointed at Emma now.

“I don't kiss and tell.”

“You're no fun,” Bryn told her.

Emma shrugged. “Well, I suppose he'd get a five there. Does that bring him up to twenty-seven points now? Second place to Kent since he'd now have thirty?”

“It's not a competition,” Bryn reminded her.

“If it was, we could all guess who would come in last place,” Abby said. “If Devon was here anyway. She'd give poor Leonard straight zeroes.”

“No, she'd probably give him minuses,” Bryn corrected.

“Speaking of Devon, what do you think happened to her?” Cassidy looked genuinely concerned. “I mean, we know she kind of disappeared at the dance, but we all assumed she'd gone home. But at the time, we didn't know she'd been drinking.”

“I wonder how much she'd been drinking,” Abby said.

“Do you think we should check on her?” Cassidy asked.

“She probably went home and passed out,” Bryn suggested.

“I checked my phone already,” Emma admitted as she reached for her phone again. “I thought she might've sent a message.”

“Did she?”

“No.” Emma looked at her phone. “Still nothing.”

“Does she usually text you a lot?” Abby asked. “I mean, at times like this when she's, well, so ticked at everyone?”

“I actually kinda expected to hear from her hours ago,” Emma confessed. “But maybe Bryn's right. Devon might've gone home and passed out.” Emma didn't like thinking of Devon like that—it was so bizarre. But hearing about her drinking vodka at the dance was pretty strange too. What was wrong with Devon?

“Since we're on the subject of Devon.” Bryn pursed her lips. “I think we should make a decision about her membership in the DG. I want to go on record as saying that I like Devon. But she's broken a lot of rules. And this whole sneaking vodka into the dance biz—and during our limo ride too—well, that is unacceptable.”

“Northwood has a zero tolerance policy for alcohol and drugs,” Cassidy reminded everyone. “Does everyone agree that the DG has the same?”

They all agreed.

“I feel bad.” Abby's voice broke. “Like this is partly my fault. If I hadn't set Devon up with Leonard, maybe she wouldn't have—”

“Are you blaming yourself for Devon having vodka in her purse at the dance?” Bryn asked her. “Because—think about it—she had to have brought that with her before she even knew Leonard was her blind date. Where else could she have gotten it?”

They kicked this around for a while but were never quite able to agree on where and how Devon could have acquired the vodka. But they did agree it was stupid and wrong. “And
not only wrong,” Cassidy clarified. “Underage drinking is illegal and grounds for expulsion from Northwood.”

“There's just one thing,” Emma said. “We don't know for absolute certain that Devon had vodka or that she was drinking vodka. That's just what Leonard said. Not that I think he lied. But knowing Devon, well, it's possible she had a flask in her purse. It's also possible that it was filled with water and that she was just jerking his chain.”

“I can imagine Devon doing that,” Abby said. “She likes to jerk people around sometimes.”

“Even so,” Bryn argued, “Devon broke DG rules tonight. You guys know that. Do we just let her off? And if we let her off, how do we know it won't happen again? Or maybe she'll do something even worse.”

“Or she might bring the whole DG down,” Cassidy said sadly.

“I don't like playing the heavy,” Bryn said, “but I think we should take a vote as to whether or not Devon can remain a member.”

“I understand that we need to do this,” Emma said, “but I feel like we need to talk to Devon first. It's not like this is a court of law or anything, but it seems only fair that she should get to defend herself.”

“That seems fair,” Cassidy said. “Like the point Emma made about the vodka. What if it was only water?”

“I agree,” Abby told them. “I want to hear Devon's side before we vote.”

Bryn sighed. “Fine. Let's wait then.”

“Good.” Emma let out a relieved sigh. Now she wanted to change the subject. Talking about Devon was too depressing. “Okay, is it just me, or did anyone else really feel like they could relate to their literary character tonight? I mean, I was
going around and trying to make everyone happy. Arranging for a guy to dance with Devon—and then finding someone for Leonard. I was even sacrificing my time with Isaac to pacify Devon. Especially when she started hitting on him. Anyway, I really felt like I was Emma Woodhouse. I could relate to how she gets so busy trying to figure out everyone else's life that she completely neglects her own.”

“So you felt neglected?” Bryn teased.

“I definitely felt distracted. But it got better eventually.” She almost added “when Devon disappeared,” but that seemed harsh. “I guess it was kind of like how everything changed for Emma at the end of the book.”

“So what did you learn?” Cassidy asked.

“Learn?” Emma considered this. “Well, it's good to help others . . . but I guess you shouldn't help others so much that you ruin your own life.”

“Ooh, that's a good lesson,” Bryn told her.

“I could totally relate to my character too,” Abby said. “Almost like I really was Katniss for a while. At first I thought it was just my imagination, but then Peeta—I mean Kent—started acting like we were in peril too. He was helping me hide and avoid Devon, making these strategies and stuff. At first it was kind of creepy since it really did feel like Devon was about to start a hair-pulling catfight, but then it was actually kind of exciting and fun. Isn't that weird?”

“So what did you learn?” Emma asked her.

“I'm not sure.” Abby frowned. “But the most obvious thing was how it was a big mistake to get Leonard for Devon's blind date. I totally regretted it then and I still do now. And I plan to apologize to Devon. Not that she'll forgive me. I doubt she'll ever speak to me again.”

“Which is one more reason to remove Devon from the DG,” Bryn pointed out.

“But right now we're telling about our characters,” Cassidy reminded her. “I actually felt a lot like Dorothy too. It was earlier tonight—before we went to the dance. I was really, really nervous about setting Bryn up with Darrell.”

“That's true,” Emma told them. “Cass was a basket case.”

“Well, you should've been,” Bryn pointed out. “That could've gone really, really wrong.”

“Believe me, I know. Darrell had promised to make my life miserable if it did. And I felt pretty certain you would hate me too, Bryn. But Russell—my scarecrow—reminded me of how brave Dorothy was. He gave me this great little pep talk and I decided that if everything fell apart, I would do whatever it took to put it all back together again.”

“As it turned out, you must've done a pretty good job since Bryn gave Darrell twenty-two stars,” Abby declared.

“So what did you learn?” Emma asked her.

“That just like Dorothy, I will never get where I'm going without a little help from my friends.”

“That's good,” Emma told her. “Sometimes you try to be so strong and do things on your own. It's good you realize that you need us.”

“And tonight I needed Russell too.”

“Okay,” Bryn said eagerly. “My turn to tell you about how I felt like Daisy tonight. And I really did. It was so weird. There was this moment in Grandpa's pool room—after I realized who my blind date was—that I was so indignant and angry. Kind of how Devon acted. And I got this image of Daisy Buchanan rejecting Jay Gatsby because he wasn't wealthy enough. And I realized what a huge mistake she made back
then. If only she hadn't done that, everyone's life would've gone so differently. People wouldn't have had their hearts broken, people wouldn't have died. But all because Daisy thought she wanted something more, she ruined everything. Does that make sense?”

“Makes sense to me,” Emma said quietly. Not only did it make sense to her, it sounded painfully like Devon. Just like Daisy Buchanan, Devon always seemed to think she deserved something better. She always wanted something more. Devon wanted the perfect boyfriend. She wanted to have “fun.” She wanted her parents to get back together. Sometimes she wanted Emma to be her best friend—and at other times she wanted Bryn. She wanted to be prettier. She wanted to have more money, to have a better house, to have her own car. Devon wanted and wanted and wanted. And a lot of her wanting seemed to lead to bad choices. Stupid decisions that could ruin everything for her.