The Blind Date (17 page)

A
bby woke up early on Saturday. At first she was confused, trying to remember where she was and why, but as her eyes adjusted to the semidarkness, she realized it was only Bryn's basement. The rest of her friends appeared to still be soundly sleeping. Not surprising, since they'd stayed up until nearly 3:00 watching a DVD. She and Bryn had shared the sofa bed, and now Abby was reluctant to get up and disturb her slumbering friend.

So she remained motionless, staring at a sliver of gray light coming through the high narrow window and thinking. She was dismayed to discover she felt even more guilty about Devon this morning than she had last night. If she hadn't set up Devon with a date that she knew was all wrong, the whole evening would've gone so much better. For everyone. And now, if Devon was officially out of the DG, which seemed likely, it was partly Abby's fault. Maybe even mostly.

She wished there was a way to undo the damage. And maybe there was. Abby started to make a plan. To start with,
she would attempt to reach out to Devon today. She would admit that she'd tried to sabotage her, and she would apologize to her. And if Devon would listen, Abby would encourage her to mend fences with the other girls. Perhaps they could have an emergency DG meeting. Then Abby could plead Devon's case with the other girls and, if necessary, beg them to accept Devon back. If they refused, Abby could threaten to quit the club. In fact, that was probably the best thing to do.

Abby knew that her dad would be disappointed in her if he knew what was going on with her. First of all, he'd be disappointed that she'd let down a friend. But perhaps even more than that, he'd be disappointed if he knew what kind of friend Devon actually was. Dad didn't really know Devon. And if he did know her, he would not approve. He would lecture Abby about being influenced by her peers. He would warn her to beware of the “company she kept.” And to be honest, he would be partially right. But not totally.

Abby had always considered herself a strong and moral person. However, if she was being completely honest, she had to admit that she'd compromised her standards when she'd invited Leonard to be Devon's date. Not because there was anything wrong with Leonard. Well, besides being a little bit nerdy. The problem was that
Abby had
known better
. Her conscience had warned her. But she had not listened.

A chiming phone caught her attention now. It wasn't hers, but she wondered if she should get up and answer it.

“My phone,” Emma said groggily, fumbling around where she and Cassidy were sharing the queen-size air mattress on the floor and finally muttering hello as she got up to wander toward the bathroom.

Both Bryn and Cassidy were still fast asleep, so Abby
decided to get up and get a drink of water. She was just finishing it when Emma emerged from the bathroom. “That was my mom,” she whispered.

“Oh.” Abby nodded as she dropped the paper cup into the trash.

“She's worried about Devon,” Emma said in a slightly urgent voice.

“Devon? What do you mean?”

“Mom said that Devon's mom called this morning. Apparently she'd gone off for the weekend with her boyfriend. Anyway, I guess her neighbor called and told her that the front door to their house was wide open early this morning. They wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

“Huh?” Abby was confused.

“So Devon's mom called my mom to make sure Devon was there.”

“Was where?”

“With me. Apparently Devon's mom thought Devon was spending the weekend at my house.”

“Oh.” Abby nodded, slowly taking this in. “But Devon went home, right?”

“That's what I thought. But apparently she's not answering her phone, and my mom was worried too.”

“What did you tell your mom?”

“That I'd have Devon call her mom.” Emma bit her lip. “But now I'm wondering why the front door would be wide open.”

“She forgot to close it?” Abby ventured, but even as she said this a bad feeling ran through her. “Do you think she's okay?”

“I don't know.” Emma was pulling on clothes now. “But I'm going to find out.”

“I want to go with you,” Abby told her.

As the two of them were hurrying to dress, the other two woke up. Emma quickly filled them in, and everyone agreed they should go together to Devon's house. Bryn's mom had set out some breakfast things for the girls, as well as a note explaining that they'd left for an early golf date.

“Good, I won't have to explain this to my parents,” Bryn said as she grabbed a muffin. “You guys help yourselves.”

“Let's take some for Devon too,” Abby suggested as she wrapped several things in a napkin.

As Bryn drove them to Devon's house, the girls speculated on reasons the front door could have been open and why Devon wasn't answering her phone. The more they talked, the wilder the possibilities seemed to become.

“I wonder whose car that is in the driveway?” Emma pointed to a beat-up–looking blue car as Bryn pulled in front of the house.

“Maybe we should call the police,” Cassidy said nervously.

“That's silly,” Bryn told her. “What would we tell them? That the door is open and there's a car in the driveway?”

“But what if something happened to her?” Cassidy asked.

“Yeah,” Emma added, “what if someone broke in to Devon's house? What if she's been . . . well, hurt or something?”

“Come on,” Bryn urged. “There are four of us. It's broad daylight. We all have our phones. Let's peek inside and if anything looks the slightest bit suspicious we'll call the cops. Okay?”

“Yeah,” Abby agreed. “Let's go.”

With Bryn and Abby leading the way, the girls went up to the house and peered inside. “Hello?” Bryn called loudly. “Devon, are you in there?”

“Hello?” Abby yelled. “Devon?”

“Huh?” a groggy-sounding male voice answered.

“Who's that?” Bryn looked at Abby with wide eyes.

Abby peeked around the corner to see a guy sitting up on the couch in the living room. It looked as if they'd woken him up. “Who
is
that?” she hissed back at Bryn. “And what's he doing here?”

“What's going on?” Emma demanded loudly. “Who's in there?”

“That's Brandon West,” Bryn declared.

“No way,” Emma said.

“It is,” Abby confirmed as she watched him staggering through the trashed living room, gathering up his shoes and a letterman jacket from Jackson High. Brandon West had gone to Northwood a couple years back, but he'd been expelled. According to rumor, his expulsion was the result of a long list of infractions. Everyone knew that Brandon West was trouble.

“What are
you
doing here?” Emma demanded as she pushed past the others to confront the tall, blond guy.

Brandon looked down at Emma with a startled expression. “I—uh—I was here with—uh—what's her name?”

“Devon?” Emma said.

“Yeah.” He nodded as he shoved his foot into a shoe. “Devon.” He stood up straight, then gave them a lopsided grin. “We were partying. Hey, you girls here to party too?”

“You're disgusting,” Emma told him.

“Where's Devon?” Abby asked.

He shrugged, reaching for his other shoe.

“Keep him here,” Abby told Bryn and Cassidy as she grabbed Emma's hand. “Let's go make sure Devon's okay.”

They eventually found Devon in her mom's bedroom, facedown on the bed and wearing a very rumpled Juliet dress. Like the rest of the house, this room was a mess too.
“Devon!”
Emma called out as she shook the lifeless girl.
“Wake
up!”

“Is she dead?” Abby asked in horror.

“No.” Emma let Devon flop back onto the bed. “I saw her eyes fluttering.” She shook her head. “And I smelled her breath. Eww!”

Abby took Devon by the shoulders now, giving her a good, hard shake. “Devon, wake up!” she said loudly.

“Is Devon okay?” Bryn yelled from the living room. “Should we call 911?”

“No,” Emma called out as she left the room. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Come on, Devon,” Abby urged. “Wake up or we're going to call 911.”

Devon's eyes slowly opened. “Go 'way,” she muttered.

“No,” Abby told her. “You're a mess and we're not leaving you like this.”

Devon closed her eyes again, letting out a sound that was part growl and part groan.

“I have exactly what she needs,” Emma said as she returned to the bedroom.

Abby looked up in time to see Emma armed with a full glass of water. The next thing she knew, Emma tossed it right into Devon's face. Poor Devon sat up, sputtering and gasping and blinking. Meanwhile Emma just laughed.

“You idiots!” Devon swore at them. “Just leave me alone!”

“Get up,” Abby commanded Devon, pulling her by both hands. “Let's walk you around and make sure you're okay.”

“Don't wanna walk,” Devon said as they got her to her feet.

“Shut up and walk,” Emma told her.

Abby gave Emma a warning glance. “We don't have to be mean,” she whispered as they guided Devon out of the room and down the hallway.

“Yeah,” Devon grumbled. “Don't be mean.”

“That's right,” Emma told her. “Looks like you've done a good job of being mean to yourself.”

“Is she okay?” Cassidy asked when they finally made it to the living room.

“I wouldn't say she's okay,” Abby told them. “But she's alive.”

“So I can go?” Brandon asked in a cocky tone.

“Who needs you?” Emma told him.

He laughed, slung his jacket over his shoulder, and sauntered out.

“What a jerk,” Bryn said.

“Yeah.” Cassidy pointed at Devon. “Why are you hanging with someone like that?”

“And why are you drinking?” Bryn held an empty whiskey bottle in front of her face.

“What is wrong with you?” Emma asked her.

“I—uh—I feel sick,” Devon muttered.

“Get her to the bathroom,” Bryn yelled. “Hurry, before she hurls!”

Abby and Emma ran Devon to the bathroom, making it to the toilet in time for Devon to collapse and vomit violently.

Abby looked at Emma. “What a mess.”

“Did you see the house?” Emma quietly asked her.

Abby nodded.

“Why did she do this?” Emma asked with balled fists. “Why is she so stupid?”

Abby shrugged as she watched Devon continuing to throw up. Then she went over to the sink, found a hand towel, and soaked it in cold water before slowly wringing it out. When Devon had stopped vomiting, Abby handed the damp towel to her. “Here, clean off your face,” she said gently.

Devon let out a little sob as she wiped her face on the wet towel.

“I can't take this,” Emma declared as she stormed out of the bathroom. “Devon disgusts me.”

“Can you stand up?” Abby asked Devon.

“I—uh—I think so,” Devon said in a hoarse voice.

Abby helped her to her feet before flushing the toilet, trying not to gag herself. She lowered the seat, closed the lid, and helped Devon sit down. “Feel better?”

“A little.” Devon was still pressing the damp towel to her head.

Abby wanted to ask Devon why she'd done this to herself. But at the same time she figured Devon wasn't ready to answer that question yet. She looked down at Devon's disheveled, dirty clothes, noticing that she'd gotten vomit on her sad-looking Juliet dress as well as in her hair. “You could probably use a shower.”

Devon nodded.

“Do you think you're strong enough?”

Devon shrugged. But the smell was so nasty that Abby decided to insist. After a bit of struggling, she helped Devon undress and got her into the shower, helping her to wash her hair.

“What are you doing?” Bryn demanded, sticking her head into the steamy bathroom with a concerned expression.

“Cleaning her up,” Abby explained as she reached for a towel.

“But what if she was—well, what if Brandon did something to her?”

“Huh?” Abby stared at Bryn. “What do you mean?”

“Like what if he did something like—”

“Don't worry, Bryn!” Devon grabbed the towel from Abby. “I'm fine. Brandon and I didn't do anything.”

“Besides getting wasted?” Bryn asked.

Devon scowled as she wrapped the towel around her.

“And trashing your mom's house?” Bryn added.

“Whatever!” Devon snarled. “That's my problem anyway.”

Abby got another towel to wrap around Devon's dripping hair, and in that same moment, Devon turned to Abby with grateful eyes. “Thanks,” she muttered.

“Yeah . . .” Abby nodded as she dropped the Juliet dress into the full sink to soak.

“Cassidy is looking up hangover remedies,” Bryn quietly told Abby. “But mostly they just say drink water and take aspirin.”

Abby opened the medicine cabinet above the sink. Finding a bottle of aspirin, she shook a couple out and then filled a glass of water. She handed them to Devon. “Here, take this.”

Devon looked uncertain but did as Abby said.

“What if I barf again?” Devon asked as she handed the glass back to her.

Abby shrugged. “Let's get you to your room.” But as they went out, she grabbed the bathroom wastebasket. “You can have this in case you throw up.”

Abby helped Devon pull on some warm-ups and got her into her bed, making sure to keep the wastebasket nearby.

“Why're you being nice to me?” Devon asked weakly.

Abby shrugged as she put an extra pillow beneath Devon's still-damp head.

“The others hate me, don't they?”

“They don't hate you,” Abby said gently, “but they don't understand you. To be honest, I don't either.”