The Blind Date (13 page)

A
s Abby went down the stairs to the basement, she pretended that she'd been banished to the dungeon. Really, it seemed fairly just. Okay, she knew that Bryn had sent her down here because she was the only one not wearing heels. Although come to think of it, Emma had on ballet flats. But maybe Abby deserved to be banished. And even if they locked the door and threw away the key, she wasn't sure she'd really care.

As she sat down in Mrs. Jacobs's favorite rocking chair, all Abby could think about was how angry Devon was going to be in a few minutes. Abby hated to think of what Devon would say or do when Leonard Mansfield, dressed in tights, walked into the parlor and declared himself to be Devon's Romeo. Abby was thankful this was a scene she would not have to witness. And maybe, if she got lucky, Abby's date would mysteriously disappear and Abby would be forgotten down here for the duration of the evening.

She extracted an arrow from her quiver and examined it
for straightness. She hadn't actually shot her bow for more than a year, but the idea of shooting something tonight felt extremely appealing. She stood up, then got out her bow and carefully set the arrow into place, aiming it at the far wall of shelves. Of course, she wouldn't actually shoot it—she didn't want to put a hole into anything down here—but it would feel good to shoot or throw or kick something.

“Katniss?”

Abby was so surprised that she nearly let go of the arrow. She hadn't even heard anyone on the stairs. She released the tension on the bowstring and lowered the bow, slowly turning around to see who was here. The voice was familiar, yet she wasn't quite sure who it was. Then seeing someone dressed similar to Peeta—except that he had a mask over his eyes—reminded her that she hadn't put on her own eye mask.

“Are you going to shoot me?” he asked as he approached her with a big grin on his face.

“No.” She slipped the arrow back into the quiver and looked around for her eye mask. “I was just—uh—sorry, I forgot to put on my mask.” She picked it up and sighed. “Although I suspect you would've guessed who I am.” She went closer to him, peering curiously. “And I'm pretty sure I know who you are now.”

His smile faded. “Really?”

“Kent?”

He nodded. “You're disappointed?”

“No, no.” She put the bow back over her shoulder. “Not at all. Did I sound disappointed?”

“You look disappointed.”

“I'm sorry.” She forced a shy smile. “I'm not disappointed at all. I hope you're not disappointed.”

“I hoped it was going to be you.”

“Oh.” She nodded. “Good.”

“But you don't seem happy, Abby. What's up?”

She looked at the heavily loaded plate in his hand, realizing that she'd forgotten to bring down her own plate of food. “Can I have that?” She pointed to the crab cake on top.

“Sure.”

She took it and slowly ate a few bites. “You're right,” she admitted. “I'm feeling a little out of sorts tonight.”

“Maybe it's the costume,” he suggested. “Although you look great in it. But Katniss was a real warrior. Do you feel like fighting with someone?”

She laughed. “To be honest, I was feeling like hitting something right now.”

“But not me?” he asked.

“No, not you. Definitely not you.”

“So what's going on then?”

“These stupid blind dates,” she said as she sat back down in the rocker.

“But I'm your blind date,” he protested as he perched on the edge of a craft table and bit into a crab cake. “You're confusing me, Abby.”

“Sorry. The truth is, I'm feeling pretty apprehensive about the blind date I set up for Devon.”

“Oh? Which guy was Devon's date?” He chuckled. “I gotta admit there were some real characters in the limo tonight. And I'm not just talking about literary characters either, if you know what I mean.”

“I know.” She grimaced. “So did you meet Romeo by any chance?”

“You mean
Leonard Mansfield
?”

She nodded grimly.

“Leonard is Devon's date?” He burst into laughter.

“Devon is going to kill me.”

Kent pointed to her bow. “But you're armed and dangerous, Katniss. You can take her.”

She glared at him.

“Except you better be careful about what you eat or drink at the dance. Wasn't there poison involved with Romeo and Juliet's unfortunate demise?”

“Not helping.” She hopped up and snatched a cheese puff from his plate, popping it into her mouth.

“If it's any consolation, old Leonard looked pretty good as Romeo. We didn't even know who he was at first.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. With that dark curly hair he looks kind of Italian. Plus he's sporting a dark mustache. And with his eye mask on, I doubt anyone will guess who he is.”

“You think so?” Suddenly Abby was feeling hopeful.

“It's possible.”

“And we weren't supposed to take off our eye masks until we get to the dance,” she said thoughtfully.

“So are you feeling better now?”

She gave him a relaxed smile. “As a matter of fact I am. Except that I'm hungry.” She snatched his last crab cake.

“Hey, so am I.”

“I was so worried about tonight that I barely ate any dinner,” she told him. “And that was after a long, hard basketball practice too.”

“I hear you girls are going to have a good team this year.”

She nodded as she chewed. “How about you? Are you going to play this year?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I'm not that good.”

“You used to be,” she reminded him.

“I'm more into music these days,” he told her.

“I'm more into food.” She laughed as she grabbed up his last cheese puff. “Thanks!”

“I think this whole
Hunger Games
thing has gone straight to your head,” he said jokingly.

“I know—why don't we sneak back upstairs and get some more food?” she suggested.

He nodded like a coconspirator. “I like how you think, Katniss.”

“Come on, Peeta, I'll show you how it's done.”

He laughed as they pretended to sneak up the stairs.

“Quiet,” she warned. “We don't want any of the others to hear us.”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “More food for us, right?”

“That's right.” She suppressed a giggle as she quietly opened the door and looked around. “Coast is clear,” she told him.

They tiptoed out and Abby led him directly to the dining room where the food was still set up and no one was around. “Looks like we have the place to ourselves,” she said as she reached for another crab cake.

“Should we bag up the food and make a run for it?” he teased.

“Nah. Let's just take our chances and eat it here.” She set a crab cake on his plate. “My payback.”

“Thanks.” He grinned. “I'm sure glad you were my blind date, Abby. I had a feeling it would be you.”

“How did you guess?”

“Who else would want to dress like Katniss?”

“Oh . . .” She nodded as she chewed.

“And you look pretty hot in that outfit too.”

She laughed. “Bryn and Devon sure didn't think so.”

He shrugged. “Shows what they know.”

“By the way, who set you up for me?”

“Emma.”

Abby knew that she owed Emma a big hug—at the very least.

“But Devon tried to get me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, we have fitness training together. She thought she could talk me into being someone else's blind date. But she ended up getting this new guy.”

“What new guy?” she asked curiously.

“His name is Russell.”

“And what was he dressed as?”

“A scarecrow. We dubbed him the Sneezing Scarecrow.”

“Really?”

“Poor guy. I guess he's got allergies.”

Abby laughed.

“Anyway, he seems pretty nice. And he really doesn't know anyone. So it was nice that he could do this. Well, except for the allergy thing. But I think Bryn's grandmother gave him something for it. Hopefully he'll be okay.”

“Yeah. He's Cassidy's blind date, and I'm guessing she'll be nice to him.” Abby frowned. “Unlike some girls.”

“Still worried about Devon?”

“I wish I wasn't.” Abby glanced down the hall that went to the parlor. She knew that was where Juliet was supposed to be meeting Romeo. “I don't hear any screaming and yelling going on,” she said quietly.

“I'll bet Devon hasn't figured it out yet,” he assured her as he refilled his punch cup.

“Let's cross our fingers that she doesn't figure it out . . . not until the dance.” She held up crossed fingers. “And then I'll do the best I can to do damage control.” She looked hopefully at Kent. “Maybe you can help.”

“Help?”

“Like if Devon starts to throw a fit, maybe you could offer to dance with her. Kind of a distraction technique, you know?”

He nodded. “Sure. This really is similar to
The Hunger Games
—first we're stealing food and now we're strategizing together. I like it.”

She grinned. “Hopefully no one will get killed.”

“I'll be watching your back, Katniss.”

“Thanks, Peeta.”

“And you should know that dressing like Peeta has transformed me into my little sister's superhero. She made me promise to send her pictures of Katniss.” He reached in his pocket to extract his phone. “You mind?”

“Not at all.” She posed as he snapped some shots, even pulling out her bow and arrow and taking aim at Mrs. Jacobs's rooster-shaped cookie jar. Then he took some pictures of the two of them together. Suddenly, they could hear the others coming out.

“It's time,” she said nervously. “Let the games begin.”

He chuckled. “And don't forget—I'm on your team.”

“Thanks. I'm holding you to it.” She snatched a crab cake from his plate and laughed. “Better grab what you want before the others get here. I know Bryn plans to hurry us out to the dance.” Come to think of it, Abby was now eager to
get this show on the road too. The sooner they got to the dance the better. It would be easier to handle Devon's hissy fit in a crowded room with curious onlookers. And with Kent helping to distract Devon on the dance floor, well, maybe it wouldn't be as horrible as Abby had imagined.

A
s Cassidy waited nervously in the sunroom, she knew that no matter who her blind date was, she would not complain. Not after what she'd done to Bryn. Of all the girls, Cassidy deserved to get the worst date of the night. If her date turned out to be what Bryn might consider “decent,” Cassidy fully intended to talk him into trading places with Darrell Zuckerman. Sure, it might seem odd for Daisy Buchanan to be dancing with a scarecrow, but if he was a good guy and if this switch pacified Bryn, Cassidy did not care.

Besides that, Cassidy told herself, Darrell Zuckerman was not that bad. Well, unless he was angry at you. That could be bad. She nervously stroked Toto's plush fur. “I think I know how Dorothy felt,” she whispered, “when she was waiting for the Wicked Witch of the West to destroy her.”

“Dorothy?”

Cassidy looked up from where she was sitting in a wicker
chair to see a lanky-looking scarecrow leaning against the doorframe. Despite her previously gloomy thoughts, she couldn't help but smile as she stood to greet him. Feeling her eye mask to make sure it was in place, she went over and extended her hand. “And you must be my scarecrow.”

He made a deep, loose-jointed bow, very similar to how the scarecrow in the movie would do it. “At your service, Dorothy.” He reached out and patted the stuffed dog. “And Toto too.”

For what seemed like the first time in days, she laughed. “Want to sit down?”

“Y—ye—yes!” He let out a big sneeze.

“Bless you.”

“Thanks. And sorry. My allergies kicked up tonight.” He sniffled as he stuffed a loose piece of straw back into the front of his red plaid shirt. “This isn't helping much.”

“Oh, dear.” She frowned. “Want to take the straw out before we go to—”

“No!” He clutched his chest protectively. “Where would I be without my straw filling? Just a pile of old clothes? I think not, dear Dorothy.”

She laughed again. This guy was good.

“Besides, the kind lady of the house—I believe her name is Mrs. Jacobs—generously gave me a Benadryl pill.” He sneezed again as he sat down. “Hopefully it won't make me sleepy. She promised to brew me a cup of coffee before we leave just in case.” Now he seemed to really study Cassidy. “You make a very nice Dorothy,” he said. It sounded like a sincere compliment.

“And you're a great Scarecrow too.” She tilted her head to one side. “But you don't seem familiar. Have we met before?”

“I honestly don't know,” he confessed. “I don't recall meeting you.” He smiled. “And I'm sure I would remember you.” He reached over and gently tweaked a braid.

“Well, we're supposed to wear our eye masks until we get to the dance,” she explained. “Although I'll bet most everyone has guessed who their date is by now.”

“It'd be pretty hard for me to guess.” He rubbed his nose as if he expected to sneeze again. “I'm new to Northwood. I don't really know anyone. Well, except for a few people in my classes. And the guys in the limo tonight. And, of course, the girl who asked me to do this.”

“Which girl was that?” she asked curiously.

“Devon Fremont.”

“Really?” Cassidy was surprised. Devon could've done far worse. In fact, Cassidy had done far, far worse for Bryn, but she was trying not to think about that right now.

“Yeah, Devon's in my fitness-training class. She was trying to get Kent for your blind date, but he already had plans. As a matter of fact, he's here tonight.”

“What's he dressed as?”

“That guy from
The Hunger Games
.”

She nodded. “That would be Abby's date.”

He shook his head. “How do you keep it all straight?”

“I'm actually just putting it all together myself.”

He pointed to his head. “Maybe I would too—if I only had a brain.”

She laughed again. “You're pretty funny. But do you have a name or do I call you Scarecrow?”

“Scarecrow is fine for now,” he told her. “Maybe after I meet the wizard and get a brain . . . maybe I'll come up with a name by then.”

“So how long have you been at Northwood?” she asked.

“Not even two weeks.”

“That must be hard . . . being new, I mean.” She frowned. “Although, under the right circumstances, it could be nice to get a fresh new start. That actually sounds pretty good to me right now.”

“Why?”

She let out a sigh. “It's a long story.”

“I think we still have about ten minutes.”

And so, similar to how she'd spilled the beans to Emma, she told him about her stupid mistake of setting up the beautiful Bryn with someone like Darrell Zuckerman.

“You mean Jay Gatsby?”

“Yeah. That's him.”

“He seemed like a nice guy to me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, sure he's nice to you. He doesn't even know you. And as long as you don't cross him, he's fine. But I have seriously crossed him. He'll be enraged at me.”

“For setting him up with a beautiful girl? Why would he be mad at you?”

“Because I
know
Bryn. She will not take this lying down. Neither will Darrell.” She glanced at the door that led out to the garden. “In fact, it's taking all my self-control not to make a run for it right now.”

“What if you're wrong?”

“I am wrong. I was wrong.” Cassidy stood up now, pacing across the sunroom. “I don't know what got into me. Bryn could've had a date with any guy. I so did not have to pick Darrell Zuckerman.”

“You said Bryn was your friend, right?”

Cassidy shrugged. “I guess.”

“Friends forgive each other, don't they?”

“Yeah, maybe. I mean, Bryn might forgive me . . . eventually. But Darrell Zuckerman—it's no secret that he's an atheist, and since he promised to make my life miserable if I messed this up, well, I don't think he'll give me any grace on this.”

Scarecrow slowly nodded. “That's rough, Dorothy.” He pointed at her shoes. “Maybe you should click your heels together and get out of here.”

She looked down at the glitter-coated red shoes and smiled. “I wish I could.”

“But then I wouldn't get to take you to the dance,” he said sadly.

“I'm sorry,” she told him. “I didn't want to spoil your evening too. I'll stick around.” She removed her eye mask. “But I guess we don't even need these masks right now. It's not like we'll recognize each other anyway.”

He smiled as he removed his own. “You really make a pretty Dorothy.”

“Thanks. You're a great Scarecrow too. I wish I was in better spirits.”

He rubbed his chin as if he was thinking. “If I only had a brain, I would try to think of a way to help you out of this mess.”

Despite her gloominess, she smiled.

“When I'm in bad straits, I sometimes ask myself a question,” he said.

“What question?” she asked.

“What's the worst thing that could happen? You already said that you think your friend will forgive you . . . in time. But really, what is the worst thing this Jay Gatsby—or Darrell Zuckerman—can do to you? It's not like he's going to hire a hit man to take you out, is he?”

“No, probably not.”

“So what would he do then?”

“Well, Darrell is super smart. Genius. And he's always struck me as a guy who doesn't play by the rules.”

“Uh-huh? So what would he do?”

She thought hard. “The first thing I thought he might do is get me into some kind of trouble at school—you know, do something really clever and pin it on me—so that I'd get caught and possibly lose the college scholarships I've been working so hard toward.”

“But how could you get caught—as you say—if you are innocent?”

“Like I said, Darrell is really smart . . . and devious. And the way he was talking to me—the threats he made—I have no doubt he would carry them out. He would get even.”

“But it seems like even if he tried to do that, you would be innocent and your friends would know it. You could gather evidence and prove your innocence. And even if it was inconvenient, you could prove that he was the one to set you up and he'd be the one to get in trouble. You would be cleared.”

“Do you want to be my lawyer? To help clear my name? If and when this happens?”

“Sure. I'd be happy to help you, Dorothy.” He tapped his head. “If I only had a brain.”

She laughed.

“See, that's the Dorothy I know. Brave and smart and determined. That's the girl who will get me to the wizard.”

She pointed at the wall clock. “And get you to the dance.”

He stood and made another low bow. “I am at your disposal.”

“Then I guess this is it. We're off to see the wizard.” She
linked her arm in his. “Or else we'll be carried away by the evil monkeys.”

He reached up and touched his nose. “Hey, I'm not sneezing anymore.”

“That's right.”

“I take that as a good sign.” He grinned as he replaced his eye mask. “This is going to be a good evening—for both of us.”

“And Toto too.” She patted the stuffed dog's head, forcing what she hoped looked like a brave smile. If Dorothy could be brave against all the foes that she had to face, why couldn't Cassidy be brave enough to face Bryn and Darrell? Scarecrow was right. By imagining the worst that could happen, she realized that she really had been blowing it out of proportion. Sure, she owed both Bryn and Darrell full apologies. But she would deliver them, and if those two refused to forgive and forget—well, she would just deal with it.