What If... All Your Friends Turned On You (16 page)

“This is an intervention,” Principal Crum said. “Your family and friends have been worried about you, Haley.”

“You've been starving yourself, honey,” Joan Miller said. “We want to help you before it goes too far. Your father found these in your bedroom.” Joan pulled out the stash of pills.

“The point is,” Perry Miller said, “that when your body tells you it's hungry, you need to listen, Snoodles. We don't want you to get sick.”

Hearing her father call her by her childhood nickname brought tears to Haley's eyes, and she realized how dangerous her quest to be stick thin had been. Her parents were right—she hadn't been in control after all. She'd only been blindly following Coco's lead.

“I'm sorry to break this to you, Haley, but we've
booked you for a two-week stay at a nearby psychiatric facility,” Principal Crum announced.

“What?” Haley asked, shocked.

“We can't have you influencing the other girls at school,” Principal Crum continued.

“But a psych ward? Really?”

“Haley, look at yourself. You're skin and bones,” Joan pleaded.

“We'll visit you every day, Snoodles,” Perry added. “And you won't be alone up there. Coco De Clerq checked herself in this morning.”

What were you thinking, pushing the already-thin Haley to starve herself and resort to dangerous appetite suppressants? She could have ended up someplace far worse than a psych ward, like the emergency room or even the morgue. Hang your head and go back to page 1
.

DEAD END

“R
emember—when you see Devon, play it cool,” Irene commanded.

“I've got it, Irene,” Haley said. “You've only reminded me, like, a hundred times.”

“But it's crucial,” Irene said. “I don't want you to take one look at him and melt like you usually do, or the whole plan's a bust.”

They were lingering outside Jack's Vintage Clothing, where Devon worked, for a little last-minute
strategizing. Also, Haley thought, they were putting off going inside. She was nervous. If Irene's plan didn't work, Haley would look like an idiot. Who knew—maybe she already looked like one. Irene had transformed her into a punk-glam goddess, with a green streak in her hair, heavy eye makeup, a schoolgirl mini-kilt and combat boots. Her brother, Mitchell, had almost screamed when he saw her. Haley hoped Devon would have a friendlier reaction.

“Ready?” Irene asked. Irene normally dressed punk, but for Operation Showdown she'd really gone all out. She had on a hot black T-shirt dress ripped strategically at the shoulder and purple sparkles dusted below her eyebrows.

Haley nodded and took a deep breath. “Ready. Let's go.”

They threw open the door of the store and walked in as if they owned the place. Devon was at his post behind the counter, and Darcy was sitting on top of it next to the register, lounging catlike in front of him. Haley tried not to look, but she couldn't help but notice that when she and Irene walked in, Darcy grabbed Devon by the neck, pulled his face toward hers and started whispering in his ear.

Irene led Haley to the glam racks and started rummaging. She yanked a tiny purple dress off a hanger and held it up against Haley's body. “You
could totally rock this,” Irene said. “Go try it on. I'll keep looking. You need something superhot for the show tonight.”

Haley ambled past the counter on her way to the dressing room. Devon stared at her, and then his mouth fell open.

“Haley?” he said. “I almost didn't recognize you.”

Haley barely glanced at him. “Oh, hey.”

Darcy was still clinging to his neck. Devon wrested himself away so suddenly she nearly tumbled off the counter.

Haley put on the purple dress. It barely grazed her thighs, but it did look hot with her recently enhanced curves and with the black tights she was wearing. She stepped out of the dressing room to model it for Irene. She didn't even glance Devon's way but she knew full well he was watching.

“What do you think?” Haley turned like a spokesmodel in front of Irene. “Is it right for the concert?”

“I love it,” Irene said. “But I love these more.” She dumped a pair of silver pleather pants and a silver halter top into Haley's arms. “Get back in there.”

Haley marched back into the dressing room and put on the skintight outfit. She and Irene were purposely mentioning this mysterious “concert” in hopes that it would pique Devon's interest. As the
coup de grace of Irene's devilish plan, Shaun had scored front-row seats to the Meat Puppets' revival show in Manhattan that night. The Meat Puppets just happened to be Devon's obsession of the moment.

Haley emerged from the dressing room to model the silver outfit. “I look like one of the X-Men,” she whispered to Irene. “You can see every bump on my body.”

“Those ‘bumps' are called curves, and you look unbelievably hot,” Irene countered. “Maybe too hot, if that's possible.”

Haley was dying to steal a glimpse at Devon to see if he was catching all this. Irene winked to let her know he definitely was. Haley could hear Darcy's distress from across the store.

“Devon. Devon!” Darcy snapped. “Over here! I asked you a question.”

“Sorry, Darcy,” Devon said. “Um, the answer is … I don't know.”

“You don't know what time you get off today?”

“Yeah, that's right….”

Irene shot Haley a conspiratorial grin. Their plan was working perfectly. The sight of Haley in these sexy punk outfits had Devon so addled he barely remembered his name.

Haley tried on some towering platform shoes with a low-cut T-shirt and tight black pants, and
a curve-hugging dress with strategically placed cutouts, all the while studiously ignoring Devon. When it was time to check out she said loudly, “Everything fits so well, I don't know which one to buy.”

“That's the beauty of vintage,” Irene said. “Super -cheap. Let's get them all!”

They lugged their haul over to the counter. Haley was face to face with Devon at last. Darcy was still stretched out on the counter, pouting.

“Can you get down off the counter, Darcy?” Devon said. “We need the space.”

She hopped off, glaring at Haley. “I wouldn't get those silver pants if I were you,” she said. “You don't have the legs for them.”

“Are you kidding?” Devon said. “That outfit looked like it was made for her.”

“What's our total?” Irene said impatiently.

Devon rang up the purchases. “So what show are you going to see tonight?”

“Uh, Meat Puppets,” Irene said. “Shaun scored us front row seats.”

“What? Why didn't he tell me? He knows I'm way into them.” Devon looked hurt.

“I guess he figured you'd be busy,” Irene said, casting a meaningful glance at Darcy.

“I'd drop anything to see them,” Devon said.

Irene shrugged. “Sorry. Shaun wanted to invite you but he couldn't get a fifth ticket, and we didn't
want anyone to feel left out.” Another sly glance at Darcy, who bristled.

“What are you talking about?” Devon said. “I feel left out.” He followed Irene's eyes to Darcy and connected the dots. “Oh.”

“Anyway, thanks.” Irene picked up one shopping bag and Haley took the other. “See you.”

Irene and Haley gave him a breezy goodbye and headed for the door. Behind them Haley heard Darcy mew, “Don't worry, Dev—at least you've got me. I'll be hanging here with you. All. Night. Long. Isn't that better than some stupid concert?”

Irene pushed open the door and called out behind her, “Don't work too hard, Devon!” Both girls giggled as they looked back once more. Devon was slumped behind the counter, looking miserable. Darcy was trying to recapture his attention, but at that point, Devon no longer seemed so taken with her.

“That ought to do it,” Irene said as she and Haley ran laughing down the street. “Darcy came off as a total liability—a leech! He'll never look at her the same way again.”

“I don't know,” Haley said. “We may have put a wedge between him and Darcy, but that doesn't mean he's mine yet.”

Looks as though Irene's little plan worked. Devon is definitely sour on Darcy and suddenly sees Haley in a
new light. But the question still lingers: is this what Haley really wants? Sure, Devon seems to be interested in Haley now, but what about later? How far is he willing to go? Will he fight to win Haley over and give up Darcy for good? Or is he the kind of passive guy who only loves the one he's with, whoever that might be? Haley is putting a lot of effort into turning his head. But now she has to decide if all this effort is worth the reward
.

Another variable is Darcy. She's clearly spinning a twisted web over Devon, and is not likely to give him up so easily. Does Haley want to get caught up in Darcy's schemes—or would she be better off getting out now before she's in too deep?

If Haley loses her enthusiasm for punk-glam, there are other boys she could focus her energies on. Super -smart senior Alex Martin may not be the cool artsy type, but he obviously cares about Haley and isn't afraid to show it. Then there's always Reese Highland. He has a big basketball game coming up. Haley could show up and surprise him—it might reignite their relationship after a prolonged holiday chill. On the other hand, Reese has said many times that he doesn't like surprises on big-game days
.

If you want to see whether Devon's willing to work to win Haley over, turn to,
HOT PURSUIT
. If you think he isn't worth all this trouble, trade him in for a
CANDLELIT BIRTHDAY
date with Alex Martin
. Finally, if you think Reese is the ultimate one for Haley, send her off to watch him play basketball,
RIDGEWOOD RIVALS
. So what if he's not big on surprises—that doesn't apply to Haley, does it?

D
ave and Hannah wheeled RoBro! into the Millers' basement, where Haley had set up a triage cot for him. Mitchell, who had few social skills but was a mechanical whiz beyond his seven years, was setting up his equipment. It was past his bedtime, but Haley had managed to convince their parents that this was a real medical emergency.

Dave pressed his fingers against RoBro!'s neck. “There's no pulse!” he cried, tears welling in his eyes. “He's gone! I killed him. I've killed RoBro!”

Annie rushed to his side to comfort him. He may have been a robot, but to Dave, RoBro! was as real as any other brother.

“Don't give up yet,” Mitchell said. “I can take care of this. Haley, screwdriver, stat.”

Haley stared in confusion at the ten screwdrivers of all shapes and sizes arrayed in Mitchell's toolbox. “Which one?”

“Size-three Phillips head, dummy!” Mitchell snapped. “Hurry up! We're racing against the clock here!”

Haley grabbed something that looked as though it could be a size-three Phillips head and handed it to her little brother, guessing that his next oddball obsession phase was probably going to be emergency surgeons.

“Hand out those surgical masks and scrubs,” he barked at Haley. “I want everybody wearing them—no exceptions. If RoBro!'s circuits are corrupted by airborne organic matter it could be disastrous.”

“How so?” Hannah asked.

“Well, RoBro! could turn … evil. Or he could develop a taste for human flesh,” Mitchell warned as Hannah rolled her eyes.

Haley handed around the surgical masks and scrubs and everyone put them on.

“What do you mean, evil?” Alex asked.

“He could become his own evil twin,” Mitchell
said with a completely serious face. “We'll know if it happens if his eyes glow red.”