Double Date (13 page)

A
s she dipped a spoon into her yogurt container, Bryn tried to hide her exasperation at her bickering friends. So much for eating lunch in peace. First Amanda and Tristin got all weird on her, just because Bryn didn't want to eat with them at their table. Maybe that was a mistake. Especially since it felt like the DG was having a total meltdown today. Why couldn't people just get along?

“What's wrong with her?” Emma demanded as she waved her cell in the air. “She won't answer my texts or her phone.”

“Maybe Devon doesn't want to talk to you,” Bryn said with nonchalance.

“She ignored my texts too,” Cassidy pointed out.

“Maybe she doesn't want to talk to either of you.” Bryn winked at Abby, who simply rolled her eyes. Abby was still in a snit because she thought Bryn wasn't doing her fair share of her work on Project Santa Sleigh. She'd actually accused Bryn of only wanting the limelight. Never mind that Bryn and Jason
had gotten a huge donation to ensure that the dance benefit could become a reality.

“Right,” Emma snapped at Bryn. “I suppose Devon would talk to you?”

Bryn pulled out her phone. “Maybe she would.” She called Devon's cell phone and to her surprise, Devon answered.

“Hey, Devon,” Bryn said smoothly. “What's up? Are you sick or something?”

“Yeah.” Devon coughed loudly. “Laryngitis.”

“Oh, that's too bad. Cass and Em thought maybe you'd died or something. They've been trying to reach you.” Bryn wrinkled her nose at her friends. It was obvious that Cass and Em were not amused.

“I want to talk to her,” Emma declared.

“Em wants to talk to you,” Bryn informed Devon.

“I'm not supposed to talk,” Devon said hoarsely.

“Oh.” Bryn tipped her head to Em. “She's not supposed to talk. Laryngitis.”

“Then tell her she can listen.” Emma was reaching for the phone.

“Emma says you can listen.” Bryn extended the phone and Emma grabbed it.

“Devon,” she said sternly. “What's going on? Cassidy and I set up the appointment with Mrs. Dorman. It's not until after school. But you're not here.” Emma scowled as she listened. “Okay, fine. You're sick. So you can just send the pictures and we'll show them to—” Emma stopped talking, but as she listened her blue eyes grew bigger. “What?” she shrieked. “You can't be serious. Where did you lose it?” She exchanged a worried look with Cassidy now. “Have you looked everywhere? Checked all your pockets? Do you think it's in Cassidy's car?”

“What is it?” Cassidy asked.

“She lost the flash drive.”

“No way.” Cassidy threw her head back and groaned.

“Maybe it's where you were hiding last night. Cass and I could run over there after school and look for it.” She shook her head grimly. “I can't believe you lost it, Devon. That's going to ruin everything . . . No, I'm not blaming you. Well, not exactly. Are you sure it's not in the house somewhere?” Emma let out a hopeless little sigh, told Devon good-bye, and handed Bryn back her phone.

“Bad news, huh?” Bryn slipped her phone back into her bag.

“The worst.”

“Maybe she lost it in my car.” Cassidy took a bite of her apple. “I'll go look as soon as I finish my lunch.”

“I'll help you,” Emma offered.

“So what does this mean for Felicia?” Abby asked with concern.

“Good question.” Emma wadded up a napkin.

“We're not giving up,” Cassidy said as she chewed. “I've got a really good defense planned for Felicia. With or without Devon's contribution.”

“I can't believe that after all we went through last night, Devon actually lost the drive.” Emma was already gathering her stuff. “Come on, Cass. Let's go see if it's in the backseat of your car.”

“We'll be right back,” Cass told them. “Hopefully with the drive.”

After Emma and Cassidy were gone, it was just Bryn and Abby. And it was plain to see that Abby was still a little out of sorts. She was folding a napkin into tiny triangles over and over—a sign that she was frustrated.

“You're mad at me, aren't you?” Bryn asked.

Abby shrugged. “I don't think I'd use the word mad.”

“Perturbed? Aggravated? Irritated?” Bryn made a half smile. “Do any of those fit?”

“Maybe.” Abby pursed her lips. “It's just that we're supposed to be partnering on Project Santa Sleigh, right?”

“Right.”

“I'm in charge of the whole project. Plus it feels like I'm going to be responsible for our own sleigh project too. Do you really think that's fair?”

“I never said you were in charge of our own sleigh project,” Bryn clarified. “I simply said that I haven't had time to do anything.”

“And that means what?”

“It means I've got a lot on my plate right now.”

Abby looked unconvinced. Now she actually seemed mad.

“Look, Abby.” Bryn softened her tone. “I'm willing to do more. But you act like I've been doing nothing. Already I've helped to secure the funds for the dance. As well as the prizes, which are pretty fabulous if I do say so. Besides that, I've gotten everything all set up for Friday's assembly, in which I will be starring—”

“Starring?” Abby blinked. “Really? That's how you see yourself? Like you're the star of the show?”

“Sorry . . . for lack of another word.”

“Oh, I think it was rather fitting,” Abby said a bit smugly. “Bryn Jacobs, the star of Project Santa Sleigh. Never mind that she sloughs off the work on all her friends while she goes out getting her hair and nails done.”

“Seriously?” Bryn frowned. “That's how you think of me?”

“Well, you did admit that you have an appointment this week.”

“Yes . . . something I do about once a month. Nothing new about that. Besides, you seem to forget that I'm also supervising
both dance committees—the one for the actual dance as well as the benefit. What more do you want me to do?”

“For starters, you could help me build our sleigh,” Abby said in a snippy tone. “That shouldn't be all up to me alone.”

“What about letting the boys handle that part of the project?” Bryn suggested. “Why is it that all the girls seem to assume it's their responsibility? Guys do know how to wield a knife to cut cardboard, don't they? Or how to apply some paint?”

Abby seemed to consider this. “Okay, that's probably a good point. Hopefully, we'll get our dates lined up after the assembly.”

“Yeah. That was the plan, remember?” Bryn felt somewhat vindicated.

“Right. So I won't obsess over the sleigh anymore. I guess I was getting worried because of what Emma was saying. Don't forget—this is a competition. Just because we're on the committees doesn't mean we can't win, right?”

“No, we never said that, but we do need to ensure that the judges are impartial.” Bryn was making a mental note to herself about this. “And everyone needs to know that's the situation.”

“Anyway, it sounds like Emma and Cass's sleigh is already coming along nicely. I guess I was feeling a little jealous.”

“That's because Emma's an artist. FYI, it sounds like Emma's been doing all the work herself. Don't forget that their sleigh had to get done early so she can bring it to the assembly as our sample. Remember?” Bryn wanted to point out that Abby was acting pretty childish but knew that wouldn't help matters.

Abby made a slight nod. “Yeah, you're right. I remember.” Even so she was still frowning. “But . . .”

“But . . . you're still ticked at me, aren't you? Did I do something else to offend you, Abs?” Bryn's patience was wearing thinner.

Abby glanced over to the table where Amanda and Tristin
were sitting with their usual friends. “Lately I get the feeling you'd rather be with them,” she said slowly, “than here with your old friends.”

Bryn held up her hands. “Hey, can you blame me? Cass and Em were going on and on about Devon. You were acting put out. The tension here was getting a little old.”

“That's nothing new. We don't always get along, but we're usually loyal to each other. Besides, it's not like Amanda and Tristin are candidates for Miss Congeniality.”

“They look pretty congenial to me.” Bryn wished she could entice Abby to go with her over there to join Amanda and her friends. That might help change her attitude toward them.

“What about what Cass and Em said about Tristin? That she's the one responsible for what happened to Felicia? Doesn't that bother you at all?” Abby's tone sounded very accusing.

“We don't know that for certain, Abs. Cass and Em admitted they never saw a shred of evidence. Now Devon claims she's lost it anyway. Seems pretty flimsy if you ask me.” Bryn looked over to where Amanda and Tristin were laughing with their friends—having fun instead of casting suspicion on others. “Really, I cannot imagine that Tristin would do something that despicable.”

“Or that Amanda would be involved?” Abby tilted her head to one side.

“I seriously doubt Amanda would do something that low-down and lame. The more I think about it, the more ridiculous it seems. And that whole story about Devon and the flash drive . . .
really
?”

“I don't know about that.” Abby's brow creased. “I do know that having Amanda in the DG makes everything feel different.”

“Are you blaming me for that too? I mean, sure, I like Amanda, but I wasn't the one who invited her into the DG. You can blame Devon for that.”

“It was originally your idea, Bryn. You can't deny that. And you and Amanda obviously get along just fine.”

“I try to get along with
everyone . . .
or haven't you noticed?” Bryn gave her a tolerant smile.

“Yeah. I get that. But when Amanda mentioned the possibility of Tristin joining the DG—followed by Cass and Em's little fireworks show—well, it's like the DG is changing. And not for the better.”

“What's not for the better?” Cassidy sat next to Bryn.

“Nothing,” Abby mumbled.

Bryn peered curiously at Emma and Cassidy. “Any luck?”

“No.” Emma glumly shook her head.

“What's going on?” Cassidy asked. “Looks like you guys are having another disagreement. What about the DG is changing for the worse?”

“Abby's all worked up over Amanda and Tristin,” Bryn said lightly.

“Well, Abby's not the only one,” Emma declared. “No way will I ever agree that Tristin can join the DG. If she's in, I'm out.”

“Same goes for me,” Cassidy said. “After last night, I'm pretty certain Devon would vote no as well.”

“So, really, it's a moot point.” Bryn set her empty yogurt carton on the tray with a clunk.

“We weren't just discussing Tristin,” Abby continued. “I was expressing my opinion on Amanda. Since she joined the DG, things are different. Not in a good way.”

Emma and Cassidy exchanged looks then nodded somberly. “Yeah, we were just talking about that too,” Emma admitted. “Things are changing.”

“Like I just told Abs a few minutes ago, I was
not
the one to invite Amanda into the DG. And I don't plan to be the one to uninvite her either.” Bryn slowly stood. “FYI, it was Devon, and she kind of jumped the gun too.”

“Well, if we had that flash drive right now, like we'd expected, we would find out if Amanda had any involvement in the Felicia scandal,” Cassidy told them. “If she did, we were going to request that she be ousted from the DG.”

“That's right,” Emma chimed in. “I'm guessing that once Felicia is in the DG, like we hope she'll be, Amanda will want to quit anyway.”

“Oh, I'm sure Tristin will want to be in a club with the same girl she bullied,” Cassidy said sarcastically.

“You honestly think that Tristin will still be in this school after that flash drive exposes her?” Abby asked.

Bryn waved a finger in front of their faces. “You girls are forgetting something. Right now
there is no flash drive
. As far as we know, there may never have been one. It seems like if anyone is acting questionable here, it might be Devon.”

Abby looked shocked. “You'd take Amanda and Tristin's side over Devon's?”

“What about DG rule number two?” Cassidy blurted. “We're supposed to be loyal to each other.”

“All I'm saying is that Amanda and Tristin have a deeper history at Northwood than Devon,” Bryn pointed out. “I agree we should be loyal, but you guys know the crazy stunts Devon's pulled. Does anyone here totally trust that girl?”

“Does anyone totally trust Tristin?” Emma challenged Bryn. “Do you?”

Bryn considered this. “I'm not sure. I guess I need more evidence to make up my mind.” She picked up her bag. “Evidence that seems to be missing.” As she looped a strap over her shoulder, she gave them a sugary smile. “I'm sure everything will work out just fine in the end, girls. Now, as much as I hate to leave your delightful company, I must pay a visit to the ladies' room.”

As Bryn strolled away, she felt completely fed up with her DG friends. Their obsession on proving Felicia's innocence seemed
to be interfering with everything. Not only was it distracting them from the task at hand—the Christmas ball—it seemed to be dividing them as friends as well. Were they going to allow their concerns over Felicia to unravel the DG? Then again, who knew—maybe that would be for the best.

W
hile Cassidy waited for Emma to meet her in the counseling center after school, she texted and called Devon, but without any luck. Apparently Devon was still playing hard to get.

“Sorry I'm late,” Emma said as she hurried into the waiting area.

“It's okay. Someone's in there with Mrs. Dorman anyway.” Cassidy held up her phone. “Do you think Devon is really sick? Or just ignoring me?”

“She's ignoring me too.”

“I'm guessing that means she still hasn't found the flash drive.” Cassidy scowled. “This will be an uphill battle without it.”

“I know how to get her.” Emma reached for her own phone. “I'll call my grandma on the landline.”

Cassidy went over her notes for their meeting as Emma talked to her grandmother. When Emma hung up, Cassidy could tell that she'd gotten nowhere. “Grandma says she's sleeping, and it seems she really does have laryngitis.”

“Probably from all that coughing at Tristin's.” Cassidy folded
the paper with her notes in half. “But Devon saw the photos on Tristin's computer. That makes her a witness. Even without the drive, we can get her in here to talk to Mrs. Dorman as soon as she's well.”

Emma pointed toward Mrs. Dorman's office where the door was opening. A man and woman were thanking Mrs. Dorman, shaking her hand, and leaving. “Looks like we're next,” Emma said quietly.

“Ready for this?” Cassidy whispered.

Emma just nodded and Cassidy led the way.

“Come in, girls.” Mrs. Dorman smiled as she closed the door behind them. “I understand this is about Felicia Ruez.”

“That's right,” Cassidy began as soon as they were seated. “We have good reason to believe that Felicia was set up. She never created that MyPlace page, and she's been bullied.”

Mrs. Dorman's dark brows arched. “That's quite a list. Do you have any evidence? Or is this all just speculative?”

“We have
some
evidence.” Cassidy turned on her iPad. “Felicia gave me her password so I could open her email and show you the messages that were sent to her the past couple of months. It's obvious that she's been bullied.” Cassidy opened an email and slid it over for Mrs. Dorman to read.

“This is very concerning.” Mrs. Dorman removed her reading glasses. “But who sent it? Who's TwistiGirl?”

“Tristin Wilson.” Cassidy opened another email.

“Really?” Mrs. Dorman looked shocked. “You know this for a fact?”

“It's easy to prove,” Emma explained. “Even if Tristin has closed the email account, which I'm guessing she's done, it's all traceable.”

Cassidy slid her iPad across the desk again. “Here's another one. Felicia saved ten or so. She dumped some of the earlier ones before she realized she should save them.”

“If this really is Tristin's account, it does appear to be bullying.” Mrs. Dorman peered at Cassidy and Emma. “But you also said Felicia didn't create that MyPlace page. Can you prove that too?”

“We thought we had evidence last night.” Cassidy quickly told the story about Devon and the flash drive, and Mrs. Dorman looked even more shocked.

“Where is this flash drive?” she asked.

“Devon seems to have lost it,” Emma said sadly.

“However, Devon did see the photos on Tristin's computer. That would make her an eyewitness.” Cassidy explained about Devon's laryngitis. “I'm sure we can get her to come in and talk to you . . . when she's able to actually talk.”

“Interesting . . .”

“We're certain that Tristin has destroyed the photo evidence by now,” Emma added.

“If someone had just downloaded the MyPlace page.” Cassidy shook her head. “That would be evidence in itself.”

“Yes, that's a point that's been made by a number of people,” Mrs. Dorman admitted. “A good lesson for everyone.”

“Can you see how wrong this is?” Cassidy asked. “To expel Felicia when she's actually the victim here?”

“What about Felicia's recent changes in her clothing?” Mrs. Dorman said suddenly. “She faced disciplinary action for inappropriate dress. It seemed to substantiate the MyPlace page. How do you explain that?”

Both Cassidy and Emma took turns telling Mrs. Dorman about how Felicia had gotten teased for wearing childish outfits. “Her mom made her dress like that,” Emma said as Cassidy pulled up another email. “It made her look like a little girl. Felicia took matters into her own hands.” Emma told about how Felicia snuck what she thought were more sophisticated clothes to school. “And she dressed in the restroom.”

“Oh my.”

“Look at this.” Cassidy slid the iPad over again. “See where Tristin is calling her Baby Girl and Chiquita Slut and a bunch of other names all related to Felicia's ethnicity as well as how she was dressed.”

“This isn't just bullying. That's racist too.” Mrs. Dorman grimly shook her head. “Something we want to nip in the bud. If you girls are right—if this is from a Northwood student—something will be done immediately to rectify it.”

“Good.” Cassidy closed her iPad. “Because I know Felicia's dad has considered hiring an attorney.”

Mrs. Dorman pressed her lips together.

“We wouldn't want to see our school portrayed as racist,” Cassidy said somberly. “I'm sure the media would love to make it into something more than it is.”

“Has anyone spoken to the media about any of this?” Mrs. Dorman looked worried.

“Not yet.”

“Well, I plan to go directly to Mr. Worthington with this new information.” She looked down at the iPad. “Do you mind if I borrow this? To show him?”

“Sure.” Cassidy nodded.

“We'll talk to Devon and see if she's going to be in school tomorrow,” Emma told her. “So she can tell you about what she saw.”

“Or maybe she's found the drive,” Cassidy said hopefully.

“We might even go look around the neighborhood where it could've gotten lost,” Emma said.

Mrs. Dorman stood. “You girls are being very good friends to poor Felicia. I'm sure she must appreciate it.”

“It seemed the least we could do,” Emma said.

“If you see Felicia, please tell her that we're working on this. Tell her that we do want the truth to come out. If she's been the
victim—as it appears she has—we will do everything possible to make things right with her.” Mrs. Dorman shook both their hands. “Thank you for coming forward for her like this. Tell Felicia that we'll be in touch soon. Very soon.”

They were barely out of the counseling center when Emma called Felicia to tell her the good news. “Well, it's good news for the most part.” Emma explained about the missing flash drive. “But we're going to look for it, and we still have Devon's eyewitness account. Mrs. Dorman said they'll take that into consideration too.”

By the time Emma ended her conversation with Felicia, they were at the car. “I think we should go talk to Devon first,” Cassidy said as she started the car. “Make sure she doesn't have the drive. We can look around the house too. Then, if we don't find it, we'll go back to Tristin's neighborhood and look around.”

“Hopefully we won't run into Tristin.”

“Speaking of Tristin . . .” Cassidy frowned. “Don't you think it's weird that she was acting totally normal today? Like nothing was wrong? You'd think she'd be a little nervous, wouldn't you?”

“You'd think. Maybe she's just playing it cool. Besides, she probably figured out early on that Devon was absent. Maybe she thinks that's buying her time, or maybe she's been covering her trail so well that she thinks she can't get caught.”

Cassidy hit her fist into the steering wheel. “Or maybe she found the drive!”

“Oh no!” Emma slapped her forehead. “I'll bet you're right.”

“It makes perfect sense. If Tristin found the drive, she'd be feeling pretty confident right now.”

“Although she must still be seriously ticked at Devon for last night. Do you think that's why Devon is laying low today?”

“I don't know. But laryngitis or not, Devon is going to do some talking,” Cassidy declared.

Because it was her grandmother's house, Emma led them inside without even knocking. “Grandma,” she called out. “It's just me.”

“Oh, hello dear.” Emma's grandmother hugged her. “And Cassidy too. Are you girls here to see me? Or checking on Devon?”

“Both,” Emma told her. “How are you?”

“Just fine. I think our patient is on the mend too.”

“Good.” Emma glanced down the hallway. “Can we visit her?”

“You know the way.”

They discovered Devon sitting in bed, watching a movie on her laptop. “Enjoying your little vacation?” Cassidy asked.

Devon rolled her eyes and shut down the laptop. “What do you guys want?” she said in a raspy voice.

“What do you
think
we want?” Emma sat down on the bed.

“I don't have it.” Devon folded her arms in front of her.

“Then we'll look around for it,” Cassidy said in a friendly tone. Strolling around the room, she peeked in the closet and under the bed and into dark corners. “Being that you've been under the weather, it's possible that you dropped it in here someplace and—”

“You don't have to do that,” Devon snapped.

“We want to.” Emma was poking around the quilt and under the pillows.

“Knock it off,” Devon complained.

“We
have
to find it,” Cassidy told her. “It's the one thing that will totally clear Felicia's—”

“I
don't
have it!”

“Could you have dropped it near Tristin's house?” Cassidy asked. “Do you think she might've found it?”

Now Emma told Devon about how confident Tristin had seemed today. “Not at all like the guilty criminal who was about to be exposed.”

Devon just shrugged, reaching for her laptop again.

“When was the last time you saw the flash drive?” Cassidy asked. “Did you have it when you got in the car last night?”

“I can't remember.”

“When did you realize you'd lost it?” Emma asked.

“I don't recall.” Devon started watching the movie again.

“What color is the drive?” Cassidy asked. “That might help us to spot it if it's on the ground.”

“Purple.” Devon made an exasperated sigh. “Really, if I'm going to recover my voice, I'm supposed to keep quiet. That's what Grandma Betty told me.”

Cassidy looked at Emma. “Well, it's probably not here anyway. Want to go over to Lakewood and poke around?”

“Good luck if you run into Tristin,” Devon growled at them.

“Get well,” Cassidy told her. “You need to be able to talk because we promised Mrs. Dorman that you'd be an eyewitness and—”

“You
what
?” Devon glared at Cassidy.

“We told her you saw the photos on Tristin's computer,” Emma explained. “That makes you an eyewitness, Devon. Your testimony is almost as good as the flash drive.”

“Come on,” Cassidy urged Emma. “Let's get going while it's still light enough to see something.”

It wasn't until they were in the car that Cassidy confessed her concerns about Devon. “I feel like she's holding back on us. I mean, last night, she was all forthcoming and excited about getting that evidence. Now it's like . . . well . . .”

“Like she doesn't care.”

“Exactly.”

“So aggravating.”

“You know what else is aggravating?” Emma said in a slightly defeated tone. “We should be at home right now—working on our Santa sleigh. We have three days to get it done in time for Friday's assembly.”

“That's true, but don't forget midterms. We really should be home studying right now.” Cassidy turned into Lakewood. “Here's what we'll do, Em. I'll park right where we picked up Devon last night and we'll split up and give ourselves fifteen minutes to look around. Okay?”

“Okay. Chances are that Tristin already found it anyway.”

“Probably. But for Felicia's sake we need to do this.”

“And if we see Tristin?” Emma sounded worried.

“Keep your phone handy.”

As it turned out they spent more like thirty minutes searching for the mysterious missing flash drive. They found a pop can, gum wrapper, tennis ball, and a little pink mitten—but no purple drive. At least they never ran into Tristin. Eventually, admitting that the light was fading, they both agreed it was a fool's errand and time to go home.

Neither of them said a word as Cassidy started the car and slowly drove out of Tristin's neighborhood. “We shouldn't feel like we failed,” she finally said as she turned onto Emma's street. “After all, we had a great meeting with Mrs. Dorman this afternoon. Even without the flash drive, it seems certain that Felicia will be vindicated.”

“Yeah. That's great, but I was just thinking about Devon . . . the way she reacted when you told her about needing to be an eyewitness.”

“That was kinda strange.”

“It makes me think about what Bryn was saying earlier, asking if we totally trusted Devon.”

“You know Devon better than any of us. Do you trust her . . . completely?” Cassidy pulled into the driveway, then turned to look at Emma.

“No way. Not completely.”

“Do you think she's been honest with us in regard to the situation with Felicia and wanting to help out?”

“I'm not sure. I thought so at first, but something about how she was acting this afternoon just doesn't ring true. She's holding back about something. I can't tell what it is though.”

“I know.” Cassidy nodded.

“Well, I better get to work.”

“Sorry I can't help with the sleigh tonight, Em. I've got a ton of reading to do, but I'll try to work on it with you tomorrow—if you want.”