“I just don’t see the point,” Cassidy argued. “I mostly keep it in a ponytail anyway.”
Tara rolled her eyes at Bryn. “That is exactly the point.”
“Huh?” Cassidy looked confused, and Bryn couldn’t help but laugh. How could a girl be so totally clueless?
“Maybe the ponytail is getting a little old,” Abby said. “I mean, it’s cool for sports and around the house and stuff, but every day?”
“Seriously,” Bryn said to Cass as she trimmed. “If a girl wants to have long hair, she should accept that there’s some maintenance involved.”
“That’s right,” Abby agreed. “You should see how much time it takes to get my hair smoothed out like this. It’s an investment.”
“An investment?” Cassidy frowned. “I thought it was just hair. What’s the big deal anyway?”
“Maybe you should just shave it off then.” Tara held the tweezers in front of Cassidy’s nose. “Or I could pluck it all out for you.”
They all laughed.
“Don’t you guys think it’s pretty weird how you focus so much on appearances?” Cass asked the others. “Haven’t you heard that beauty is only skin deep? What about your minds? What about your talents? How about focusing on those things for a change?”
“We do focus on those things,” Abby said defensively. “You know that, Cassidy. Don’t get on your soapbox with us. You know good and well that we all have interests besides our looks. But some people completely neglect their appearances, and then it’s time for an intervention.”
“Not that we’re naming names, Cassidy Banks.” Bryn chuckled as she combed out the ends of Cassidy’s hair to see if they were even.
It was early afternoon when they finished Cass’s makeover. Tara had worked magic on her face before she slipped off to catch a nap. Abby and Bryn had finished with her hair and then helped to outfit her in some of Abby’s clothes.
“Time for the big reveal,” Bryn said proudly as she led Cassidy to the full-length mirror on the inside of her closet door. Made over from head to toe, Cass looked like a new person. Her brown hair looked shiny and healthy and full of body. Her skin looked fresh and natural—but pretty. And her outfit really took her overall image up quite a few notches.
“Voilà!” Bryn said as she opened the door for Cass to see.
“No way . . .” Cassidy leaned forward to peer at herself. “Is that really me?”
“A new and improved you,” Abby told her.
“Wow.” Cassidy seemed surprisingly impressed.
“Wow is right.” Bryn tugged her down the hallway. “I told Tara we’d show her how you turned out. I’ll knock quietly in case she’s sleeping.”
After they shared their success with Tara, Bryn called Devon to see where they were supposed to meet to look for dresses. “We’ll be there around 2:00,” she told her. “Wait until you see Cassidy’s new look.”
“Great,” Devon said. “We’ve already scouted some really great-looking gowns. Oh yeah, and Emma has some good news for Cassidy.” Her voice was laced with promise.
“About Lane?”
“Yep.”
“Already?” Bryn felt slightly dismayed. “But he hasn’t even seen her since the makeover.”
“I guess he liked her just the way she was.”
Bryn groaned and lowered her voice. “Well, let’s not mention that to her, okay?”
“Sure . . . whatever. See you in a bit.”
Bryn tucked her phone into her bag and shook her head. Hopefully all their work on Cassidy wasn’t for nothing. Surely a guy wouldn’t be less interested in a girl just because she’d improved her appearance . . . would he?
10
Abby tried to keep up with her best friend, Bryn, in the fashion arena, but sometimes it could be challenging to say the least. Keeping up with Bryn in the shopping arena could prove downright exhausting, and Abby was an athlete too! By the time Bryn called it quits, the DG had put in nearly five hours at the mall. When Abby got home, she was as worn out as if she’d competed in a cross-country race. Her one consolation, however, was that with Bryn’s help, she had managed to snag a very cool dress.
“I saved some dinner for you,” Mom called as Abby came into the house. “Your dad got takeout from Thai-Spoon. Your favorite.”
“Thanks, I’m starved.” Abby held up the pale pink garment bag like it was a trophy. “I found my dress.”
Mom looked up from where she was working on her laptop in the dining room and made a surprised frown. “You mean for homecoming? You already got a dress?”
Abby was unzipping the bag now. “Yeah. Everyone said it looked so great on me, and it fit absolutely perfectly. I was afraid if I didn’t get it, someone else might snatch it up.”
Mom stood and came over with a worried look. “Well, let’s see.”
Abby extracted the long, dark purple dress from the bag.
“Eggplant . . .” Mom nodded with an uncertain expression.
“Huh?”
“The color. It’s eggplant.”
“Oh, well . . . yeah, I guess so.” Abby held up the dress in front of her like she was wearing it.
“Where are the straps?” Mom sounded alarmed. “Abby, you know good and well that the school has a code for dances. No strapless dresses allowed—period.”
“Don’t worry.” Abby fished down inside the dress and pulled up a strap that went across the front and over one shoulder to the back. “See?”
“One strap?” Mom frowned.
“It’s a pretty wide strap,” Abby said, defending herself. “Honestly, I think this strap has three times as much fabric as the straps on the dress that Bryn got today. It’s very secure.”
“Abby . . . I don’t know . . .”
“It’s okay,” Abby assured her. “Bryn told me that her sister Tara wore one almost exactly like this to prom last year. No problem whatsoever.”
“No problem . . . Well, wait until your dad sees it, then we’ll see if it’s a problem or not. In the meantime, hold on to your receipt.”
“Don’t worry.” Abby already had the receipt safely tucked into her wallet. Not because of parental approval, but just in case she didn’t get asked to the dance after all.
Mom shook her head. “You’re lucky your father’s at a meeting tonight.”
Despite the threat in Mom’s voice, Abby didn’t feel too worried as she slid the dress back into the bag. Knowing Dad and how busy he’d been lately, he probably wouldn’t see this dress until the night of the dance, and by then it would be too late. She hung the dress over the top of a door, then went to the fridge to dig out the little white cartons. But when she turned around, Mom was still standing there, looking a bit forlorn.
“I was really looking forward to going dress shopping with you,” Mom told her as Abby dumped what was left of the pad Thai onto a plate.
Abby slid the plate into the microwave and turned around. “I’m sorry, Mom. It’s just that you’re always so buried with work and stuff . . . I just figured you’d appreciate that I took care of this on my own.” Abby’s parents had always valued independence.
“Well, yes, of course, I’m glad you took care of it yourself. But as a mom—and don’t forget, you’re my only daughter . . .” She shrugged. “Well, I’d imagined us doing that together. A mother-daughter thing.”
Abby looked into her mom’s eyes. “Oh, Mom, I’m really sorry,” she said sincerely. “I didn’t realize it was that big of a deal for you.”
Mom looked sad.
Abby went over and hugged her. “Seriously, Mom, if I’d known it meant that much to you, I would’ve waited. But after spending the whole afternoon shopping with four other girls, I was so relieved to find the right dress that I just had to get it.” She smiled. “And it was a really good deal too.”
Mom brightened a little. “Really?”
“Yeah.” The bell on the microwave dinged, and Abby pulled out the hot food. “I actually found it at one of the discount stores. We were
trying to shop some inexpensive places for Emma—she’s on a pretty tight budget. I couldn’t believe it when I saw it. I’d tried on a dress almost exactly like it at Nordstrom’s, and it was almost four times as much.”
“Wow.” Mom looked impressed. “Nice shopping.”
Abby forked into the noodles and took a big bite.
“Did all the girls find dresses?”
“Uh-huh.” She nodded. “It was pretty cool, actually. Bryn sort of managed the whole thing, and by the time we finished up, everyone was happy.”
“That’s quite an accomplishment. Five girls shopping at once and everyone finds a dress. I’m impressed.”
Abby took another bite, hoping that Mom wouldn’t inquire about their dates for the dance. Ironically, it seemed easier to find a dress for the dance than a guy to go with. Not that she planned to mention this. “I still need to get shoes,” she said suddenly. “Maybe you and I could shop for those together.”
“Shoe shopping.” Mom grinned. “That would be such fun. Don’t you dare go without me.”
“All right.” Abby picked up her plate. “Do you mind if I take this to my room? I have some homework to catch up on.”
Mom tipped her head to her laptop. “Sure. I have some work to do too.”
Relieved that Mom wasn’t asking more about plans for the dance, Abby took her plate in one hand and the dress in the other and headed to her room. It was true that she did have homework, but at the moment she was more focused on working on Jason for Bryn. He was her assignment, and after hearing about how much progress the other girls had been making, she felt guilty. It would be horrible if Bryn was the only one without a date for the dance. Not that it was likely. Most guys would be thrilled to take out a girl as hot as Bryn. What was wrong with Jason? As Abby turned on her computer, she wondered if she should start looking around for an alternate guy. It shouldn’t be hard to find a willing date for someone like Bryn. Except that Bryn had her heart set on Jason.
To Abby’s surprise, she had a message from Kent on Facebook. She set her dinner aside and clicked on it.
Bryn says you girls want to go to homecoming. Gotta like a girl who speaks her mind and doesn’t beat around the bush. What do you think? Is Bryn serious? Or is she just pranking me?
Abby read the message twice. It had been sent at 4:05 this afternoon. It was now 7:34. Too soon to respond? She didn’t think so. Still, she wanted to do it carefully. Don’t act too eager. Make him do the asking. These were things all five girls had agreed on when they had a late lunch in the food court today.
Homecoming sounds like fun. And I can speak for all my female friends . . . we are definitely interested. But we hear that you guys might be under Worthington’s thumb. Any truth to that rumor?
She hit Send, then returned to eating. She didn’t expect him to get back to her any time soon. Nonetheless, later, as she was doing homework and sending a couple messages to Jason, she took time to check. She checked again and again and again. Finally, it was past 10:00 and she was just shutting down her computer when she noticed Kent had responded again.
You’re asking me to give you top secret information. Let’s just say that my buddies and me are capable of making up our own minds about certain things. If you like I’ll run this idea past some of them and get back to you later this week.
She wrote back saying that sounded good but warning him not to wait too long, hinting like he might miss his big chance. Devon had told them to give the impression that it was possible the guys could be too late—that the girls might have other opportunities. As she hit Send, she hoped she hadn’t gone too far. But Devon had made it clear—the way to hook a guy was by playing hard to get.
“Despite what they might say, guys like to feel like they’re the hunters,” Devon had explained as if she’d put a lot of research into this. “Not like they’re being pursued.”
“That’s right,” Bryn had agreed. “We need to make them feel like we’re not that interested. And like we have other options.”
“Why do we have to play games?” Cassidy demanded.
“This is the Dating Games,” Devon reminded her.
“But it feels so weird,” Cassidy complained. “Why can’t we just be open and honest?”
“Because it will backfire on you,” Devon declared.
“What makes you such an expert?” Cassidy demanded. “How many dates have you actually been on anyway?”
“Are you questioning me?” Devon looked offended.
“Look,” Bryn said gently. “Devon’s right. That’s exactly what I’ve seen my sister do—play hard to get—and she’s got a pretty good track record for luring guys in. Don’t you think?”
“It’s true,” Abby assured them. “I’ve seen it myself. Tara has a real gift for getting guys to go after her.”
“I suppose it has nothing to do with her looks . . .” Cassidy shook her head like she was still unconvinced.
“Besides Tara, it’s what you see on movies and TV,” Emma said, a bit uncertainly. “The girl that’s hard to get usually gets the guy. It makes sense to me.”
“Like movies and TV are for real.” Cassidy frowned.
“What about The Bachelor?” Devon said. “It’s a reality show. And the girls frantically chasing after the guy are usually the ones who don’t get a rose and get sent home.”
“You honestly take that show seriously?” Cassidy rolled her eyes.
“All I’m saying is that none of us wants to come across as desperate and clingy and pathetic,” Bryn said firmly. “I know I don’t. Are you saying you do, Cass?”
Cassidy backed down at that point, admitting that she didn’t want to look desperate either.
“So despite that we don’t have dates and we’re out shopping for dresses . . .” Bryn chuckled over this. “We will promise to each other not to act desperate.”
Right then they’d all lifted their right hands and pledged to this. As far as Abby could see, she was holding up her end of the bargain now. Even so, she had an underlying feeling of desperation as she made room for the formal gown in her closet. It was so pretty, and it would be so fun to wear it. Just the same, she was not throwing away the receipt, although the clerk had said there was only a seven-day grace period, and only if the dress had never been worn. As gorgeous as the dress was, she knew she’d never wear it without a date. She just hoped she’d get the chance to wear it. If only Kent would cooperate.
11
Devon called her dad on Sunday morning. It had been a couple months since she’d last spoken to him, but she had a reason for calling today. Plain and simple—she wanted money.
“Mom says you’re late on child support,” Devon told him. “Again.” She could tell she woke him up. Not that she cared much since it was already past 10:00.
“Hello to you too,” he said groggily. “So nice to hear your voice.”
“Sorry, Dad.” She softened her tone. “It’s just that it’s not easy being in this private school. I have a whole new set of friends, and I have to be able to measure up. There’s this big dance coming up. Homecoming. I want to go, and I used all my money to buy the dress, which is really great, but now I’m broke, and I don’t even have shoes yet. Plus there are some other expenses too. I need help.”
He let out a low groan.
“I’m really sorry to bug you.” She spoke even more sweetly. “But if you could just send me some cash, I’ll beg Mom not to put too much pressure on you for being late with the child support.” Okay, she realized she was stepping way over the line here. But she also knew that Mom had a very good job. Better than Dad’s. And sometimes Devon wondered about the fairness of Dad getting stuck with so much of the financial responsibility. She and Mom had gotten the house and the best car, while Dad was living in a tiny apartment downtown. However, she reminded herself, he was the one who chose to leave, and although it had never been said, Devon was pretty sure that it was because of a woman.
“So . . . how much do you need?” he asked
slowly.
She gave him a generous number, certain that he’d balk at it. But when he didn’t, she gratefully thanked him and promised to work on Mom. “I’ll email you some photos of me in my homecoming dress,” she said finally.
“I wish I could be there to see you,” he said sadly.
“Me too.” Then she told him to have a good day and hung up. Having parents split like this was painful. At least she was learning how to use it to her advantage . . . sometimes. Most of the time, she would gladly give up everything and anything just to have her parents happily married again. However, she knew the likelihood of that was probably comparable to winning the lottery. So not happening.
Her parents had acted like because she was a teenager, and in their opinion nearly grown, she shouldn’t really care that they were divorcing. Like she had her own life and would soon be off in college—la-di-da. Like it didn’t matter that she no longer had a house with two parents to come home to. And what about Christmas and other holidays? Or special times like the homecoming dance or graduation? Or what if she got married someday? How would they handle her wedding? Naturally, they didn’t think about those things. Or maybe they just didn’t want to talk about them.
Devon checked her phone, hoping she might have a text from Cassidy, since Cass was the one supposedly working on Harris for her, but she had nothing from Cassidy. Although it had been Devon’s choice to switch Harris from Bryn to Cassidy—for obvious reasons—she now questioned the wisdom of this. At least Bryn had been trying, although Devon had been uncertain as to who Bryn was working for—herself or Devon. Meanwhile, it didn’t look like Cassidy was even lifting a finger to help. Why should she be surprised? Cass was the biggest heel-dragger of the group. Devon wondered why they’d even let her join.
Devon decided to text Cassidy. A gentle nudge couldn’t hurt. Even if Cass was in church right now, which was probably the case, Devon knew that some of her friends received and sent text messages while in church. Maybe if Cassidy was bored enough, she’d take the time to send something to Harris. Devon could only hope.
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