The Blind Date (6 page)

Read The Blind Date Online

Authors: Melody Carlson

Tags: #JUV033200, #Dating (Social customs)—Fiction, #Clubs—Fiction, #Friendship—Fiction, #High schools—Fiction, #Schools—Fiction, #Christian life—Fiction

BOOK: The Blind Date
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6

B
ryn felt proud—perhaps even slightly smug—that she'd managed to snag Emma's main crush for her blind date. Despite Emma's pretense that she and Isaac McKinley were “just friends,” Bryn knew that Emma really, really liked the boy. And, to be fair, Isaac was a sweet guy. Bryn knew that he'd make a perfect Mr. Knightley. For that reason, she took him aside right before lunch on Friday—to give him some advice in regard to his costume.

“I'll send you some photos I found online,” she was explaining to him. “To give you ideas for how to put together a Mr. Knightley costume.”

“You mean I can't wear jeans and a T-shirt?” he teased.

“You're not playing James Dean, silly,” she pointed out. “Anyway, you see what you can come up with in the drama department costumes. Try to find something that looks like the photos I'll send you. And, if you need to, just take some photos and send them back to me, and I'll see what I can do to help make it look more authentic.”

He beamed at her. “Thanks, Bryn. It's nice of you to help me like this. And thanks for setting me up with, uh, with
Emma
.”

Bryn blinked in surprise. “You
know
?”

He laughed. “Now I do.”

“What do you mean? What's going on?”

“Hearing that my date was playing the character Emma, well, I just guessed it was Emma Parks.”

“Oh.” Bryn frowned. “It was supposed to be a surprise—for everyone. Now it's ruined.”

“It's not ruined,” he assured her. “I'd been thinking of asking Emma myself, but, well, you know . . . that speech Mr. Worthington gave . . . I'm still trying to wrap my head around this whole dating thing.”

“You and all the rest of the guys in this school.” Bryn wasn't sure exactly what Mr. Worthington had told the boys at the start of school. Well, besides that they should avoid dating and girls in general—which was perfectly ridiculous.

“So I'm really not supposed to say anything to Emma?”

“That's what makes it a blind date—at least for Emma.”

“I heard that some girls are following your example to do the blind date thing too,” he said.

“Where'd you hear that?” Bryn glanced around the noisy cafeteria. Had the DG started a trend?

“From some of the other guys. It's kind of a cool idea really. I mean, it takes some pressure off of us.”

“Well, remember it's all top secret until the night of the dance. No one, especially Emma, is supposed to know.”

He nodded. “Got that.”

As they parted ways, Bryn recovered from her guilt at blowing Emma's cover. In fact, as she walked to class, she felt
rather pleased with herself for making such a good match. In a week, Emma would be most grateful, and Bryn would enjoy basking in that glory. Plus, if there was any truth to karma, then Bryn's blind date for the dance should end up being someone really special. Maybe Marcus Zimmerman—she'd heard he was a good dancer, and she'd been dropping hints about him. But she would also settle for Kent Renner, who actually looked a bit like the Great Gatsby, or even Lane Granger, although she would be a little disappointed. Bryn felt fairly certain that Abby was setting her up—and she felt even more certain that Abby had secured Marcus for her. And, really, why wouldn't she?

“What's up with you and Isaac?” Devon asked Bryn when she sat down at the lunch table with the others.

“Huh?” Bryn gave her an innocent look.

“We all saw you just now,” Devon told Bryn. She tipped her head toward Emma. “And I'm not naming names, but someone at this table was watching you like a hawk.”

“I was not,” Emma declared.

“Yes you were,” Devon shot back.

“What difference does it make?” Cassidy asked. “We were all watching.”

“Am I not allowed to have a friendly little conversation with a boy without attracting all this undo attention?” Bryn asked primly. She opened her bag lunch from home and pulled out a Greek yogurt and a bag of veggie sticks.

“Of course you are,” Emma growled at her.

“Ooh, you are mad,” Bryn said back. “Is this how you treat your friends?”

Emma glared at her. “What about how you treat your friends?” she demanded. “And what about the DG rules?”

“What rules?” Bryn asked nonchalantly.

“Never mind,” Emma grumbled.

But Bryn was feeling indignant now. All she'd been doing was trying to help Emma—and this was the thanks she got? “You mean the rule about
not stealing boyfriends
? As far as I can see none of the DG members have a boyfriend.” She glanced around the table. “Am I wrong about that?” No one responded.

“But everyone knows that Emma likes Isaac,” Cassidy said quietly.

“I do not!” Emma declared.

“Ooh, methinks you protest too much,” Bryn said.

“Why are you talking like that?” Emma demanded. “You sound like you've been trapped in a Jane Austen novel too long.”

“Hey, I thought you liked Jane Austen,” Bryn teased.

“I
used
to.” Emma stood and picked up her tray. “Excuse me!”

“Wow.” Bryn slowly shook her head. “Sounds like someone's having a bad PMS day.”

“Oh, Bryn.” Cassidy gave her a disgusted look. “Why'd you have to tease her like that?”

“She attacked me first,” Bryn said defensively. “All I was doing was talking to Isaac and—”

“It looked more like you were flirting,” Cassidy clarified. “And Emma got really hurt before . . . when she, uh, thought someone else was flirting with Isaac.”

“Who?” Abby asked.

“It doesn't matter.” Cassidy tossed a slightly accusing look Devon's way.

“Moi?”
Devon asked innocently.

“If the shoe fits.” Cassidy was gathering up her lunch things now.

“Emma said I was flirting with Isaac?” Devon gave a fake-looking shocked expression. “Since when?”

“I don't know exactly.” Cassidy let out a frustrated sigh as she stood with her tray. “All I know is that Emma might pretend she's not into Isaac, but she really is.” She looked directly at Bryn now. “And if you care about Emma and consider yourself her friend, you should respect that. You shouldn't try to hurt her.”

“Why's she so thin-skinned?” Bryn asked. “And why does she pretend not to like Isaac when she obviously does? And why does she get all hurt when one of us talks to him?”

Cassidy pressed her lips together. “You really want to know the answer to all that?”

“Yes,” Bryn declared. “As a matter of fact I do.”

“Okay . . . I think it's because her dad left her.” Cassidy made an uneasy glance at Devon. “And I realize Emma's not the only one whose parents have split. But I know that Emma is very sensitive. I think you all know that. And I think she's worried that if she gets too involved with Isaac—even though she really likes him—well, she's afraid he will hurt her too. Just like her dad.”

“Since when did you turn junior psychologist?” Devon asked.

“I think that makes sense,” Abby said.

“So maybe before you start teasing her, you should consider that,” Cassidy said to Bryn. And then she left.

“Wow.” Bryn let out a long sigh. “Sure didn't see that coming.”

Bryn wasn't sure what to expect on Saturday morning. After experiencing Emma's wrath like that—which was, by the way, totally unjust—and after getting lectured by Cassidy in front
of the group, Bryn didn't know if her friends would even show up at Gram's for sewing assistance today. And she wasn't sure that she cared.If these girls were going to start acting all crazy and overly sensitive and hormonal, well, maybe it was best to part ways. The club had been fun while it lasted, but maybe it was time to call it a day. And, really, did Bryn even need the DG? She suspected that without their blind date plan, she would've gotten a date to the dance anyway. And probably a lot sooner—and with a lot less trouble too.

However, as she got into the car, she knew that she would miss the DG if it disintegrated. Hopefully the girls had moved on by now. It was silly to let an innocent conversation with a guy split them up like that. Especially just one week before this dance—which could turn out to be pretty cool. Bryn had loved dressing up in costumes ever since she was old enough to slide her feet into her mom's heels and drape herself in her scarves and jewelry. And she was determined not to let a little disagreement spoil their fun now. Besides that, Gram was looking forward to having the other girls there today. She had even suggested having pizza delivered for lunch.

Bryn wondered if she should pull over and call Emma right now. But to do what? Apologize? And for what?
Bryn had done nothing wrong!
If anyone owed somebody an apology, it was Emma. But since Emma obviously didn't realize her mistake—not yet anyway—well, maybe Bryn would have to take this one on the chin so to speak. A week from now, when Emma found out that Bryn had set her up with Isaac and even helped Isaac with his costume, all would be forgiven.

As she pulled up to Abby's house, Bryn hoped that her supposed best friend was feeling more congenial today. Abby had given Bryn a second lecture on the way home from school
yesterday. For some reason Abby had gotten it into her head that Bryn had been acting like a snob lately. All because of that business with Isaac? It was ridiculous, of course. And Bryn had tried to straighten Abby out—without going into the top-secret blind date details—but Abby hadn't seemed to want to listen.

When Abby got into the car, she didn't seem like her usual cheerful self. Bryn tried to make small talk, but Abby was acting pretty quiet as Bryn drove them across town to her grandmother's house.

“Are you still mad at me?” Bryn asked as she stopped for a traffic light.

“Mad at you?” Abby said absently. “Why?”

“Because I hurt Emma's feelings yesterday. Because you think I'm a snob.”

“Oh, that . . . Well, like I said, I didn't particularly like it,” Abby admitted. “But, no, I'm not still mad at you.”

“Is something wrong then?”

“I don't know . . .”

“There
is
something wrong,” Bryn declared. “Is it me?”

“I already said that it's not.”

“What is it then?” Bryn demanded.

Abby let out a loud sigh. “I can't tell you.”

“What do you mean
you can't tell me
?” Bryn glanced at Abby as the light turned green. “I thought we were best friends. How is it possible you can keep something from me?”

“If you must know, it has to do with the blind date biz. But it's supposed to be secret, remember?”

“Oh . . .” Bryn slowly nodded, taking this in. “So you really did set me up then? And you're worried because you set me up with someone you think I might not be so happy with?”

“Good grief, Bryn. Everything is not always all about you,”
Abby said. “Do you know how narcissistic you can sound sometimes?”

“Narcissistic?” Bryn pushed her lower lip out. “That's a little harsh.”

“Sorry. You're right. But, seriously, Bryn,
it's not always about you
.”

“So, you're telling me that you didn't arrange my blind date? Because I'm pretty sure I know that you did. And if you tell me the truth, I promise not to breathe a word of it to anyone. It will be our secret.”

“Well, I hate to disappoint you, but you are wrong. I set up—uh—someone else.” Abby put her hand over her mouth. “Crud. I didn't even mean to say that much.”

“No big deal. It's not like you told me who you did set up.” Bryn lowered her voice as if someone else was listening even though it was just the two of them in the car. “But you could tell me, Abby. I would keep it a secret. You can trust me.”

Abby firmly shook her head.

“Okay then . . . maybe you can tell me
why
you're freaking over whatever it is you're freaking over.”

“You promise you won't breathe a word of this to anyone?”

“You know I won't,” Bryn assured her. “Think of all the other secrets I've kept for you over the years.”

“Well . . . I'm kinda worried about the blind date I got for—uh—the DG member whose name I can't mention.”

“Uh-huh?”

“I'm sure she's going to be pretty upset about the guy. I mean, I know she's going to be really ticked at me. And I'll admit that it was really impulsive on my part.”

“Interesting. So you set someone up with a real loser, huh?” Bryn asked. “Someone who thankfully is not me.”

“I know it was a huge mistake. But I have no idea how to undo it.”

“Just tell the loser dude that you changed your mind. Or made a mistake. Or whatever. And then ask someone else more appropriate.”

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