The Blind Date (9 page)

As Dad drove them home, Abby thought about Devon's upcoming date with Leonard—she knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that Devon would think he was a geek. And at one
point, Abby had nearly decided to switch dates with Devon and go out with Leonard herself. That would be preferable to having Devon hurt his feelings. But maybe Devon needed to spend an evening with someone like Leonard. Maybe it would be a good way to remind Devon that geeks were people too—that they had feelings. And it might also be a good way for Devon to show her true colors to someone like Bryn. Even if Bryn was shallow sometimes, she had never been intentionally mean. At least she never used to be. And Abby felt certain that if Bryn observed Devon treating someone like Leonard badly, Bryn might rethink her relationship with Devon. Bryn might realize that Devon truly was a bad influence.

By the time they got home, Abby had made up her mind. No matter what went down this week, she was not going to be intimidated by the potential of Devon's wrath. She was not going to undo Devon's blind date. Devon's Romeo would be played by Leonard.

Of course, Abby would have to do whatever she could to prepare Leonard for his big night. She would do everything possible to ensure that his costume looked great and that his evening was a success. Not that it actually seemed possible. But if Devon threw a hissy fit, which was highly likely, Abby would go out of her way to make sure that Leonard wasn't too badly hurt. She would dance with him herself as well as entice the other DG members to take turns. She would go out of her way to make the event go smoothly. And she would also be prepared to do whatever was necessary to repair things with Leonard afterward. Which she knew was likely. Somehow, someway, she would make sure that this thing ended well for Leonard.

She felt fairly sure that her dad wouldn't approve of what she'd done or how she was handling it, but it wasn't like he really needed to know all the dirty details. Still, she reassured herself, maybe this could be her way of being a light in a dark place . . . being an influence. She could only hope.

E
ven though Cassidy had completed all the machine-stitching on her Dorothy costume at Bryn's grandmother's house, she still had lots of hand-sewing to finish. Thankfully, Emma had offered to help her. And on Wednesday after school, the two of them sat together in Cassidy's room . . . sewing.

“With all this sewing, I kinda feel like I've gone back in time,” Emma said as she threaded a needle. “Like I'm really becoming Emma Woodhouse and living inside a Jane Austen book.”

“I know what you mean. I can't believe I made this costume—and I'd never even threaded a needle before.” Cassidy held up the gingham dress where she'd just pinned up the hem. “I mean, I realize it wasn't a real complicated garment to make. At least that's what Bryn's grandma said when she was helping me, but the fact I made it myself is pretty cool. My parents were totally impressed.”

“I'm impressed too,” Emma told her. “Didn't know you had it in you.”

“That's because you're the creative one,” Cassidy reminded her. “By the way, I can't wait to see how your bonnet turned out. Or how you'll look as Emma.”

“I think my costume looks pretty authentic if I do say so myself.” Emma smiled contentedly as she sewed on the blouse. “But I still wonder what my Mr. Knightley will be wearing.”

“Don't you wonder
who
your Mr. Knightley will be?”

“I'm trying not to think about that too much,” Emma admitted.

“Yeah, me too.” Cassidy let out a long sigh. “I'm so tired of Bryn and Devon acting like their lives might fall apart if they don't land the perfect dates. It makes me wish we'd never started this silly blind date thing in the first place.”

“Not me. I'm glad we did it. I have absolutely no regrets.”

Cassidy accidentally stuck her finger with the sharp needle and let out a loud yelp.

“What?” Emma looked up from her sewing. “You have regrets?”

Sucking on her pricked finger, Cassidy slowly shook her head. Okay, the truth was she
did
have regrets. Huge and serious regrets that she had to keep completely to herself. She knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that she never should've gotten Darrell Zuckerman for Bryn's date. Sure, she'd been irritated with Bryn at the time. And to be fair, Bryn had been acting like a spoiled prima donna that day. But Cassidy had been wrong, wrong, wrong to set Bryn up with Darrell. And Cassidy knew that it was going to come back to haunt her. In fact, it was already haunting her.

As she hemmed the skirt of the jumper part of the dress
she remembered how helpful and sweet Bryn's grandmother had been on Saturday. And it had been very generous of Bryn to invite all of the DG members over there to work on their costumes together. Then, like salt to the wound, Bryn had actually been surprisingly nice to Cassidy these past couple of days. So much so that Cassidy had been tempted to pick a fight with Bryn at lunch today. As if quarrelling would make things better! How stupid was that?

But it was too late. What was done was done. Bryn's Jay Gatsby would be geeky Darrell Zuckerman and there was nothing Cassidy could do about it. Not without garnering the wrath of both Darrell and Bryn. And even though Bryn would probably make a huge stink on Friday night, Cassidy had good reason to be more worried about Darrell than Bryn. She wished she could tell Emma about all of this, but she knew that would be breaking the rules. Until the big night, mum was the word. And maybe that was for the best. Cassidy had a feeling that if she was allowed to speak about this, her floodgates would be opened and she'd never get them closed again.

“I can tell something's bugging you,” Emma said urgently. “Want to talk about it?”

“Of course, I
want
to talk about it,” Cassidy snapped. “But I
can'
t.
Remember, this stupid blind date stuff is
top secret
.”

“Oh . . . well, okay then.”

“I'll probably get an ulcer from all this. They say stress is a killer.”

“Wow, you're really having a hard time, aren't you?”

Cassidy grimaced in silence, focusing on her stitches. She should've just kept her mouth shut.

“That's too bad,” Emma said. “The masquerade ball is
supposed to be enjoyable. I know I've been having a lot of fun preparing for it.”

“It's been partly fun,” Cassidy confessed. “It's just that I'm not looking forward to Friday. Not at all.”

“I know this has to do with whoever you set up.”

“Duh.”

“I wish I knew who it is,” Emma said quietly. “I know it's not me.”

Cassidy kept her eyes on her sewing. No way was she going to spill the beans. It was bad enough she'd made a mess of things. It would only get worse if she was the one girl in the DG unable to keep a secret.

“Hmm,” Emma murmured. “And since I know which girl I set up, well, I feel pretty certain that it's either Bryn or Devon.”

Cassidy looked up. “How'd you figure that out?”

“Simple deduction.”

“Yeah, well, you still don't know for sure. And at least I didn't tell you.”

“And that actually makes a lot of sense.”

“What makes sense?”

“That you're feeling worried.”

“Why?” Cassidy paused from pulling the needle through the fabric.

“Because Bryn and Devon both have such high expectations for their dates. And I'm guessing that you got one of them a dud. Right?”

Cassidy moaned. “You didn't hear that from me.”

“Well, I wouldn't admit this to anyone else,” Emma said slowly, “but if it turns out that you set Devon up with a loser, I'd say she might just deserve it. She's been so full of herself
lately I can hardly stand her. I know it's partly because of what's going on with her mom at home, but, hey, we all have problems. You don't have to be a witch about it. So, really, if you stuck it to Devon . . . good for you.” Emma chuckled.

Cassidy frowned. She did not feel the least bit reassured by this.

“Oh no,” Emma said quietly.

“What?”
Cassidy looked at Emma. She was pulling the needle through the white blouse with a shocked expression.

“Oh no!” Emma shook her head.

“Did you make a sewing mistake? Did you sew the sleeve closed?”

“No. I figured it out, Cass. You set
Bryn
up with a loser, didn't you? And now you wish you hadn't. Am I right?
Or am I right?
”

Cassidy knew there was no point denying this as she locked eyes with Emma. “I wish I could undo it. I would give anything to undo it.”

“Oh, my goodness!” Emma looked truly horrified. “And Bryn has gone to so much work to make her costume absolutely perfect. She's been so certain that her date is going to be Mr. Wonderful—and that he's going to be impeccably dressed as the great Jay Gatsby, and they are going to be the most stunning couple at the dance. Oh, Cassidy—this is awful!”

“I know.”

“Why would you do that to her? Of all the girls in the school—Bryn could probably have had her choice of almost any guy. Why would you purposely get her a dud?”

“I don't know why I did it, Emma.” Cassidy felt close to tears. “But there's no way to get out of it now. I mean, if I could gently let him down and find someone else for Bryn, I
would. But this guy—the one I set Bryn up with—well, he's sworn he'll get even with me if the date goes sideways. And it will go sideways. I just know it will. And then I'm toast.”

“Oh, Cass, what are you going to do?”

“I've imagined all kinds of escape scenarios. Like getting sick on Friday morning and not even going to school. Or leaving the country.”

“I mean seriously, Cass. What are you going to do?”

“I think my best option might be to offer to trade dates with Bryn.”

“Except that would leave the elegant Daisy Buchanan dancing with a scruffy scarecrow.”

“I know.” She sighed loudly. “Believe me, I know.”

“I could trade my date with her,” Emma offered. “Mr. Knightley should be somewhat elegant looking. He might be able to pass as Bryn's Gatsby.”

“But what if your date is a dud too?” Cassidy asked.

“Oh.” Emma shrugged. “I guess that's possible. Hey, maybe we'll all have duds. And if we do, then no one should complain, right?”

“Wouldn't that be great,” Cassidy said with relief. “How cool would it be if everyone has gotten everyone a lame date? Then I won't stand out as the girl who blew it.”

“Actually, that's not possible,” Emma admitted. “I got a
good
blind date for, well, I can't say who I got him for. But I know she'll be happy with him.”

“Do you think that
he'd
want to trade?”

Emma frowned. “But he'd have on the wrong costume too.”

“Yeah, yeah . . . I know. It's a mess. A total mess. And it's all my fault. I can't believe how stupid I was. What I wouldn't do for a do-over.”

“Maybe the guy will get sick. I heard the flu is going around. Maybe you should have someone waiting in the wings—just in case your guy gets sick.”

“Yeah . . . right,” Cassidy said with no enthusiasm. “Hopefully I'll get sick. I should go hang at Abby's house to see if I can contract her mom's flu bug. That would be nice.”

“Poor Cass.”

“Don't you mean poor Bryn?”

“Yeah, but I didn't want to make you feel worse.” Emma shook out the white blouse. “Look, this is all done. You're going to make such a cute Dorothy. I can just imagine you with your brown braids tied in red ribbons and your ruby slippers.”

“You mean if I don't come down with the flu.”

Emma ignored that. “What about Toto?” she asked.

“Huh?”

“You need a Toto doggy, Cass.”

“I think I might need a guard dog more.”

“You should carry your Toto in a basket like in the movie. I used to have a stuffed black Scotty dog. I might even be able to find him in the attic. That is, if you're interested. His name was McDuffy and he was very sweet. Want to borrow him? I might even have a basket you could use.”

“Sure,” Cassidy said glumly. “Make it a good solid basket in case I need to defend myself. On second thought, maybe I can borrow Abby's bow and arrow.”

“Oh, Cass.” Emma hung the finished blouse on the hanger. “You're obsessing over this. Blowing it all out of proportion.”

“I think I'm just being realistic.” Cassidy finished the last stitch on the dress's hem.

“Instead of freaking, you should be praying.”

“You don't think I have?” She knotted the thread and bit it off with her teeth.

“So if you prayed about it, why are you still so worried?”

“Huh?” Cassidy smoothed out the blue-and-white gingham skirt.

“Jesus said to pray about things instead of worrying. Remember?”

“Uh-huh.” Cassidy hung the jumper over the white blouse, admiring how nice it looked together.

“And don't forget that God promises to bring good out of bad, Cass. Remember that verse? If you love God and are called according to his purposes, he turns something bad into something good. That's not an exact translation, but it's close. I'll bet that God can bring something good out of your mess too.”

“Yeah, I know that Bible verse too. Problem is that when I asked, uh, that certain guy . . . well, I'm not sure I was called
according to God's
purposes
—if you know what I mean. I think I was more called according to my own selfish and vengeful purposes. How can God make that into good?”

“Because God is gracious. Everyone makes mistakes, Cass.” Emma stood, reaching for her coat. “But God always forgives.”

“I know God forgives, but I'm not so sure about Bryn—not to mention a certain merciless guy who has already promised to make my life miserable.”

“Tell you what.” Emma zipped her coat. “I'll be praying about this situation a lot now. You're not alone.”

“Thanks. But please, do not mention it to anyone. Besides God that is.”

“You know you can trust me.” Emma hugged her. “And don't worry so much, okay?”

“I'll try.” Cassidy felt a smidgeon better now. “Thanks, Em. It helps knowing that you know. At least you'll be able to explain to my parents what happened to . . . you know, regarding my premature demise at the masquerade ball.”

“Oh, Cass!” Emma laughed. “You can be such a drama queen sometimes.”

Cassidy walked Emma to the front door. “I feel like my days are numbered,” she said. “Like it'll all be over on Friday night.”

“One way or another it will.” Emma hugged her again. “Promise me that you won't keep obsessing over this. It's not doing anyone—especially you—any good. You need to pray about it, Cass. Trust God to take care of it for you. Okay?”

“I'll try,” Cassidy promised.

“Besides, like you mentioned, worrying that much is bad for your health. It can make a person physically ill,” Emma reminded her as she went out the door.

As Cassidy waved good-bye, she wondered if that was really true. Could she actually make herself sick with worry? And if so, could she possibly do it by Friday?