The Blind Date (10 page)

D
evon had gone out of her way to be super sweet to Bryn all day on Thursday. She'd complimented her outfit a couple of times, and she'd pointed out how great Bryn's hair looked during lunch. If it wouldn't look totally hokey, Devon would probably even offer to carry Bryn's books . . . or shine her shoes . . . or wipe her nose. Somehow she needed to win Bryn over completely. Because she needed Bryn's help. Well, she needed Bryn's
grandmother
'
s
help.

“I have a problem with my costume,” Devon confided to Bryn as they walked toward the school parking lot at the end of the day. Devon had been so nice to Bryn that she'd actually earned herself a ride home in Bryn's car. “I don't know what I'm going to do.”

“What kind of problem?” Bryn asked with a slightly suspicious expression.

“Well, I tried it on last night—just to get the full effect,
you know. And when I bent over to put on my shoes, the zipper broke.”

“Oh?” Bryn reached into her purse for her keys. “Can't you fix it?”

“I tried and tried to fix it.” Devon frowned. “I think I made it worse.”

Bryn clicked her key to unlock the car. “So what are you going to do?”

“I called an alterations place,” Devon explained as they got into the car, “and they said they can't get to it until next week.”

“And that will be too late.” Bryn sounded slightly haughty as she turned the key in the ignition.

“Do you think your grandmother might be able to help me?” Devon asked hopefully.

Bryn turned to look evenly at Devon. “I don't know.”

“I could pay her,” Devon offered helplessly.

Now Bryn smiled—in that sort of superior way. “Oh, my grandmother would never accept money for helping someone.”

“But do you think she would help me?”

Bryn opened her purse and pulled out her phone. “Why don't I give her a jingle for you.”

“Thank you,” Devon said eagerly. “I'll be forever in your debt.”

Bryn laughed as she held the phone up to her ear. “Hey, Gram,” she said lightly. “My friend Devon has experienced a small wardrobe malfunction. Apparently she tried to squeeze herself into the beautiful Juliet gown—you know, the one you sewed for Tara,” Bryn said in a haughty tone. “Anyway, it split wide open and now she needs help fixing it.”

Devon tried to hide her irritation as she listened. Maybe this was called eating humble pie. But when she walked into the masquerade ball looking absolutely gorgeous as Juliet, it would be worth it.

“So you're not too busy.” Bryn listened to the phone, slyly winking at Devon like she knew she had the upper hand. “Thanks, Gram. We'll go pick up the dress and be right over.” She dropped her phone back into her purse, then turned to Devon. “Looks like we're good to go.”

“Thank you so much!” Devon gushed. “And you don't need to stop by my house.” She opened her oversized bag and extracted the Juliet dress. “I have it with me.”

“You were feeling pretty confident, weren't you?”

“More like desperate,” Devon confessed.

“What would you have done if Gram couldn't help you?” Bryn asked.

“I thought about using a bunch of safety pins to close it up,” Devon admitted. “I was going to ask Emma to help pin me into the dress.”

Bryn wrinkled her nose. “A bunch of safety pins? That doesn't sound terribly attractive. And what if a pin broke open during the dance?”

“Yeah, that might hurt.”

“Sounds like the Juliet dress might be too small for you,” Bryn said as she drove.

“Yeah, well, it was a bit snug on top,” Devon confessed. “But I thought I'd lose a couple of pounds by the dance.”

“Which is tomorrow.”

“So . . . I wonder if your grandma could let it out a little.”

“Maybe it wasn't such a great idea to go as Juliet after all.”

Devon could hear the smugness in Bryn's tone. And she
knew that Bryn had the advantage here. Perhaps the best way to play this was to grovel a little. “You're probably right,” Devon said contritely. “Maybe this is fate's way of paying me back for snagging the Juliet dress. But honestly, Bryn, I had no idea that it had been worn by your sister or that your grandmother had made it when I picked it out.”

“Yes . . . but you knew afterward, Devon. I told you. Remember?”

“Yeah, that's true. I guess I was just being greedy. I'd fallen in love with the dress, and I really wanted to be Juliet.” Devon looked at Bryn's perfect profile. “I'm sorry,” she said quietly. “I guess that was pretty selfish, huh?”

Bryn nodded.

“But your Gatsby dress is absolutely gorgeous,” Devon told her. “And you'll look fabulous as Daisy.” Now Devon got an idea—and it wasn't a bad one either. “But if you really want to be Juliet, I'm willing to trade dresses with you, Bryn. I can see now that it was wrong for me to glom onto the Juliet dress like I did. I mean, after all, it was kind of in your family.”

“That's true.”

“So if you want to trade . . . I'd be willing.” The truth was Devon was more than just willing. She'd been trying not to drool over Bryn's beautiful golden-girl dress with its low-cut neckline and all those sparkling beads. She'd love to wear it to the dance.

“Well, if we traded costumes then we'd have to trade our blind dates too,” Bryn reminded her. “Or else our costumes wouldn't match our dates.”

“That's true.” Devon frowned. “But since they're blind dates, maybe it wouldn't matter if we traded.”

“Unless your date was a total loser,” Bryn pointed out.

“What if
your
date was the loser?”

“No way! Jay Gatsby cannot be a loser.”

“You think Romeo could be a loser?” Devon challenged.

Now they both started teasing and joking, and by the time they reached Bryn's grandparents' house they were both laughing. They were still laughing when they went inside.

“Sounds like you girls are having a good time,” Bryn's grandmother said as she led them down to the basement.

“We were just speculating about our blind dates,” Devon said as she handed Mrs. Jacobs the Juliet dress. “If they turn out to be total losers, Bryn and I are going on the warpath.”

“The warpath?” Mrs. Jacobs frowned as she put on her glasses.

“Actually it will be more like the manhunt,” Bryn clarified. “We decided we'll hunt down the best-looking guys and entice them to dance with us.”

“Yeah, even if the guys turn out to be our friends' dates,” Devon added.

“But how will that make your friends feel? Or your dates for that matter?” Mrs. Jacobs tipped her head to one side as she spread the Juliet dress out onto a cutting table.

“Well, if our dates turn out to be losers, it means our friends let us down,” Bryn explained.

“And with friends like that who needs enemies?” Devon winked at Bryn. “Our friends would deserve to have their dates stolen from them.”

“That doesn't sound like very good manners to me.” Mrs. Jacobs looked at Bryn. “I thought my granddaughter was brought up to be more courteous than that.”

“Oh, Gram.” Bryn grinned. “We're only kidding.”

“Sort of,” Devon said quietly.

“Anyway, our friends wouldn't
really
set us up with losers,” Bryn said with confidence.

“How do you define
loser
?” Mrs. Jacobs examined the back of the Juliet dress.

“You know, it's a geeky, nerdy sort of guy,” Devon told her. “They must've had guys like that back in your day.”

Bryn tossed Devon what seemed like a warning look.

“Hmm . . .” Mrs. Jacobs reached for a little tool. “I'm sure that some people thought my Stanley was like that.”

“Grandpa?” Bryn looked surprised. “You're saying that Grandpa was a geek?”

“Define
geek
,” her grandmother said.

Bryn looked at Devon.

“You know . . . kinda nerdy . . . social misfit . . . uh, loser,” Devon said cautiously.

Mrs. Jacobs made a funny smile. “Well, that's probably how some kids saw Stanley back in high school.”

“But Grandpa's not like that at all,” Bryn said defensively.

“You didn't know your grandfather in high school.” Mrs. Jacobs handed Devon the sharp tool and showed her how to pick out the threads to remove the zipper. “But I'll tell you girls this much. Some of the boys you call geeks or nerds right now will probably end up being much more successful than some of the high school boys you currently admire. Trust me, everything changes as you get older.” She chuckled as she went over to a cabinet. “Let me see if I can find a zipper the right length and color.”

As Devon worked to cut the threads holding the broken zipper in place, she thought about the date she'd set up for Cassidy. Even though Russell was new to school and Devon didn't really know him, she would have to describe him as
pretty nerdy. He looked like a geek, talked like a geek. He probably even walked like a geek. But if Bryn's grandmother was right, maybe Russell wasn't so bad after all. Devon felt somewhat reassured.

She'd been feeling slightly guilty to think of how disappointed Cassidy might be when she discovered that Devon had set her up with a geek. Especially since Cassidy had been acting pretty decent to Devon lately. Just today Cass had gone out of her way to help Devon with her civics assignment, showing her some good websites and even letting Devon borrow her iPad during lunch. It was almost like Cassidy was really trying to be a good friend. Well, if Mrs. Jacobs was right, Devon had done Cass a favor by setting her up with a geek. At least that's what she was telling herself now.

Devon had just finished removing the broken zipper when Bryn told her grandmother that the Juliet dress also needed to be let out as well. “Otherwise, Devon will probably bust out another zipper,” Bryn said teasingly.

“Well, I made the dress with plenty of room for alterations,” Mrs. Jacobs told them. “When you put that much time and energy into a drama costume, you hope that it will get well used. Although I'm a bit surprised that the drama department is allowing you to wear it to a dance.” She frowned as she reached for the gown.

As Devon watched Mrs. Jacobs opening up some seams inside the dress, she explained her idea to rent wardrobe items. “All the money goes directly to the drama department's costume budget,” she said.

“That was a clever suggestion, Devon.” Mrs. Jacobs shook out the dress. “Now let's try this on you and see if we can make it fit you more comfortably.”

As Mrs. Jacobs was fitting the dress onto Devon, Bryn went upstairs to talk to her grandpa and look for something to eat.

“You're a very pretty girl,” Mrs. Jacobs told Devon as she pinned the sides of the dress back together. “And you look very pretty in this gown.”

“Thanks.” Devon smiled with satisfaction.

“But like I tell my own granddaughter,
pretty is as pretty does
.”

“I've heard that before.” Devon frowned. “Although I'm not totally sure about what it means, exactly.”

“It means that you are only as pretty as your actions. If a pretty girl acts out in unattractive ways, she will become unattractive.” Mrs. Jacobs peered over the top of her reading glasses, as if to see whether Devon grasped this.

“Yeah, I thought it was something like that.”

“So many young people focus too much on their outward appearance. Sometimes I fear they neglect their interior appearance.” She stepped back to look at the dress. “I've pointed this out to Bryn a number of times but, like you, she's young. I'm afraid she hasn't quite figured these things out yet.”

“I guess we're both still working on it.” Devon tried to sound reassuring.

“Well, you seem like a smart girl to me.” Mrs. Jacobs carefully lifted the dress over Devon's head and took it over to a sewing machine where she sat down. “I hope that you make smart choices too.”

“I'm not exactly sure what you mean.” Devon pulled her clothes back on and went over to watch Mrs. Jacobs sewing the dress. “Choices about what?”

“I mean that I hope both you and Bryn will choose to be gracious and kind to your blind dates—no matter what kind
of boys you assume they are. I hope that you girls will choose to be courteous and do all that you can to make the evening an enjoyable one for everyone.”

“Oh . . .” Devon slowly nodded. “Well, we were just joking about our blind dates. Besides, I'm sure they'll be perfectly nice guys and we'll all probably have a good time.”

Bryn came into the room with a bag of microwave popcorn in hand. “I'd offer to share it with you,” she teased Devon, “except that I know how you're watching your weight so you don't bust out your zipper again.”

“Your grandmother is making the dress big enough that I don't have to.” Devon reached into the bag and pulled out a handful of popcorn.

“Yes, and I was also giving Devon the
pretty
is as pretty does
lecture,” Mrs. Jacobs said over her shoulder.

“Oh, dear.” Bryn frowned. “Sorry about that,” she said quietly to Devon.

“Bryn,” Mrs. Jacobs said in a warning tone.

“Just kidding, Gram.” Bryn giggled. “But lecturing my friends?”

“I lecture you sometimes, don't I?”

“Yes, but—”

“And you know that I love you, don't you?”

“Yes, but—”

“Here's another old saying.” She looked up from her sewing. “A word to the wise is sufficient.”

Bryn grinned at Devon. “I get that one a lot from her.”

“What's it mean?”

“It means that if we're smart, we'll listen to her,” Bryn teased.