Prom Date (3 page)

D
evon was grateful to still be living with Emma's grandmother. Really, she was. It was much better than living with her mom—more specifically her mom's creepy new husband. Grandma Betty was a good cook and surprisingly fun to talk to, not to mention a pretty decent card player. But sometimes Devon longed for something more. She wasn't sure exactly what it was she thought she was missing in her life. Sometimes she thought it was boys and fun and action. But then she would try to remind herself of where that had gotten her in the past.

So instead of acting on crazy impulses—and possibly derailing her life—she'd been trying to stick with her dial-a-friend plan. It was actually Emma who had come up with this particular plan. And, despite their ups and downs—and there were many—Emma was still the closest thing to a best friend that Devon had ever had. But it was Saturday night, Emma was down in LA, and Devon was feeling antsy.

It hadn't helped much that Emma and Felicia had been sending all these fabulous-looking photos and texts for the past twenty-four hours. From what Devon could see, those two were having a totally amazing time and, like Bryn, Devon couldn't help but feel envious. Which was probably why she texted Em back this afternoon, saying something stupid and snide and admitting that she was bored outta her gourd. And it was probably why Cassidy called her at 5:30, insisting that Devon attend youth group with her tonight. Feeling homebound and stuck and slightly hopeless, Devon had reluctantly agreed to go.

“It's nice to see you going to youth group,” Grandma Betty said as Devon emerged from her room at a bit before seven. “And don't you look pretty tonight.” She fingered a strand of Devon's wavy hair. “I was just telling my friend Irene that you have the most beautiful hair—the same color as a shiny copper penny, and all natural too.”

“Thanks.” Devon smiled. No matter her mood, this sweet old woman almost always made her feel better. “Although I'm not convinced that I really
want
to go to youth group.”

“But surely it'll be better than spending the evening with an old lady.” Grandma Betty grinned. “Or maybe I can entice you to stick around and play some cribbage with me.”

“It might be more fun than youth group.” Devon wrinkled her nose.

“Really?” Grandma Betty's eyes twinkled. “In my day, we loved going to youth group—that was where you met the best boys.”

Devon considered this. “You mean
nice
boys?”

“Oh, I wouldn't go that far.” She chuckled. “Unless things have changed in the last fifty years. I can assure you that not
all youth group boys were nice back in my day. I doubt it's much different now.”

“Probably not.” Devon laughed.

“I guess the point is that at least they're trying.”

Devon spotted headlights in the driveway. “There's Cass, I better go.”

“Have fun!”

As Devon went out to the car, she wondered if it was possible to have fun at youth group. After all, Grandma Betty was right about one thing—there would be boys. Devon wondered why she hadn't considered this before. “What did you do to your hair?” Devon asked Cassidy as she slid into the passenger seat.

“Huh?” Cassidy reached up to touch her brown hair, which looked rather juvenile in two long pigtails, then giggled. “Oh, the braids—I was helping my mom work in the garden all afternoon. I forgot to take them out.”

“I'll just call you Pippi Longstocking.” Devon frowned at Cassidy's outfit. The plaid flannel shirt and worn jeans weren't too awful, but those black rubber boots—really? “You look just like a farmer. Seriously, that's what you're wearing tonight?”

“It's just youth group,” Cassidy glanced at Devon, then rolled her eyes. “
Not
a beauty contest. Although you do look
lovely
.” Her sarcasm massacred the compliment.

“Well, excuse me for caring about my appearance.” Devon made an exasperated sigh. “I thought that was one of the conditions of being in the DG, Cass. We were supposed to up our game.
Remember?
”

Cassidy just laughed. “Yeah, whatever. Sorry, I didn't have time to change. My mom was trying to kill herself working
on our raised beds. She's got a bunch of seedlings she wants to plant next week if the weather cooperates. Anyway, she looked like she was about to have a heart attack, so I just had to jump in and help. I worked right up until it was time to leave, but at least I washed my hands.” She held out a hand for inspection.

“Eww.” Devon turned up her nose. “Your hands might be clean, but those fingernails are disgusting.”

Cassidy just shrugged. “Yeah, Mom told me I should've worn gloves.” She turned to smile at Devon. “Hey, I'm really glad you came. There's supposed to be a new youth pastor tonight and I've been looking forward to meeting her.”

“Her? The youth pastor is a woman?”

“Well, she's a co–youth pastor. She's sharing it with Jarrod.”

“Oh.” Devon extracted her phone from her purse. “I haven't heard from Emma and Felicia in the last hour. Wonder what kind of mischief they're getting into now?”

“Hopefully no mischief.”

After Cassidy parked her car in the church parking lot, Devon opened her door to turn on the overhead light then held up her phone to take a picture of Cass. “I'm sending this to Emma.” Devon laughed as she texted the message.
Off to YG with Pippi.

“Ha-ha,” Cassidy said wryly. But she did pull down the visor mirror to look at herself. “Well, there's not much I can do about this now. And if I take the braids out my hair will just be all kinky and frizzy.”

“Better just leave it,” Devon said as they got out of the car. Besides, she thought as she looped her purse handle over a shoulder, walking toward the building with a spring in her step, this meant less competition for the guys.

Devon hadn't been a regular attendee of youth group since middle school. Oh, Emma had talked her into going a time or two, but for the most part Devon was just not that into it. However, as she followed Cassidy into the brightly lit room, she was surprised at how crowded it was—and even more surprised at the abundant selection of guys. Although she recognized a number of them from Northwood Academy, there were several others from her old public high school too. And a fair amount she didn't even know.

They were barely in the room before several guys came directly toward them—including Lane (who Devon knew was into Cassidy) and Isaac (Emma's main crush) as well as Kent (Abby's guy) and Marcus (who had taken DG girls to dances before). She could tell by their expressions that they were glad to see her. And why not?

“Hey, guys,” Devon said in a friendly tone. “What's up?”

“Did you see the latest photo from Emma and Felicia?” Isaac held up his phone right in front of Cass to see.

“I just checked my phone and didn't see anything new.” Even so, Devon leaned in to see better. “No way!” she cried as she recognized the actress standing between Emma and Felicia. “Is that really—”

“Jennifer Lawrence!”
Isaac beat her to the punch.

“That is so cool!” Cassidy exclaimed.

With everyone crowded around, it was hard to see much, so Devon fished out her own phone and was soon staring down at the smiling faces of her two friends with Jennifer Lawrence smiling in between them. Go figure!

“Emma said they ran into Jennifer in front of a popular restaurant and she was really normal and nice. She let them grab the selfie before the paparazzi leaped in and took
over,” Isaac explained. “Emma said they'd been spotting lots of stars this evening—you know, because of the Oscars tomorrow—but this is the first selfie with a real celeb. Pretty cool, huh?”

Devon couldn't believe it. Emma and Felicia were down in Beverly Hills actually rubbing elbows with the stars. She glanced up from her phone to see that the guys were all clustered around Cassidy, talking and joking and laughing. Meanwhile, she was off to one side—and suddenly feeling pretty left out.

She slipped her phone back into her purse then attempted to move back into the clump of friends. Their conversation had shifted, and Isaac and Marcus were talking about something that happened to them at the Rose Bowl a few weeks ago. For a bunch of guys, these boys were pretty chatty. And Cassidy was right in the midst of them, almost acting like she was part of this “good ol' boys' club.” That made Devon feel jealous. Why was she the one being left out?

She reached over and gave a playful tug on one of Cassidy's pigtails. “Hey, guys, what d'ya think of our little Pippi Longstocking here?”

Lane broke into a grin. “I was just about to say something, Cass. Nice look you got going there.”

“I, uh, I was working in the garden and didn't have time to change,” Cassidy said with what seemed like embarrassment.

“Hey, I think you look great.” Marcus slapped her on the back. “Real earthy.”

Isaac pointed to Cass's feet. “And I really like those boots. Nice touch.”

“Seriously?” Devon frowned at him. Was he kidding?

“Yeah. I like it. Kinda country chic,” Isaac told her.

“I bet someone like Jennifer Lawrence might dress like this,” Kent added. “Very laid-back and cool.”

Cassidy's face lit up. “Thanks, guys.”

Devon felt dumbfounded. The guys actually
liked
Cassidy's farmer getup? And here Devon had spent more than an hour putting herself perfectly together—and she knew she looked hot. Yet none of the guys seemed to be looking at her much. And none of them were paying her compliments. What was up with that? What was wrong with these guys?

But there was no time to obsess over the strangeness of this because someone up front was announcing that it was time to get started. The music tempo was picking up, and people were starting to sing along as they hurried to find seats. As Devon stood next to Cassidy, who was beside Lane, she felt seriously confused. Was it possible that she didn't understand guys quite as well as she pretended to? Or were these particular guys just really, really weird?

Although everyone around her was singing with enthusiasm, Devon just stood there. It wasn't that Devon was intentionally trying to be obstinate, but she didn't really know these songs. Besides, it felt insincere to sing along to words that she wasn't too sure she believed in. At least that's what she told herself as she kept her mouth tightly shut. As they continued to sing, she looked around the room, trying to see inside of these seemingly happy faces.

Were these kids really as happy as they seemed? Or was this all just an act? Put on your happy mask for youth group night. She glanced at Cassidy and, although Cass seemed happy too, it didn't really strike Devon as insincere. After all, Cassidy was pretty open and up-front about her beliefs. Certainly, the girl wasn't perfect. And usually—although
sometimes it took a while—she admitted it when she was wrong.

The guy who'd been leading the singing—a Jarrod somebody—began introducing a strikingly attractive and exceptionally stylish tall blonde woman named Samantha Robertson. “Sam's degree is in psychology.” He chuckled. “But don't let that scare you. She's actually quite nice.” He paused for them to laugh. “And she's also a certified counselor who gets teens. More importantly, she loves the Lord. Right, Sam?”

Sam nodded, giving the group a big sparkling smile as she told them how glad she was to be a part of the youth group team. “I can't wait to get acquainted with you all individually,” she said with enthusiasm. “And I want everyone to know that I'm a really good listener. At least that's what my friends say.” She handed the microphone back to Jarrod, and he announced that tonight he was going to do something different.

“I know it will sound a little weird, but hang with me here. I want us to divide up into two groups for a change. Half of us will be with Sam and the other half with me.” He made a slightly devious-looking grin. “Guys go with me and girls stay here with Sam.”

This was followed by a lot of loud groans and complaints, but Jarrod just waved them off. “Come on, guys, it'll be fun. And we'll all get back together again after we're done.” He invited the girls to remain in the youth group room and explained where the guys would meet. Suddenly everyone was moving.

“Come on up front,” Sam called out to the girls. “Fill up the front rows here.”

Cassidy grabbed Devon by the arm and dragged her to the front row—and way out of Devon's comfort zone. She
cringed inwardly as she slumped down in the chair. This was nothing like what she'd expected. Why had she even come here tonight? Was there any way to get out without making a spectacle of herself? Sam was sitting on a stool, smiling happily at the girls seated all around her. Like the pretty princess about to address the peasants. Everything about Sam looked picture-perfect—reminding Devon of Amanda Norton, a girl who'd turned out to be a stuck-up snob.

“I'm so glad to be here tonight,” Sam said cheerfully as everyone quieted down. “I've really been looking forward to meeting you girls. And I've actually been praying for you. It's really great to see you face-to-face.” She took in a deep breath, pausing for a moment. “I know that some of you—maybe all of you—were disappointed when Jarrod broke us into two groups. To be fair, it was my idea. I wanted to have you girls to myself for one evening. And”—her eyes lit up—“I want to talk about something that I think all you girls can relate to . . . the opposite sex.”

Devon could sense the other girls getting more interested now. And despite Devon's nonchalant exterior, she felt a bit more intrigued as well.

“But first I want to tell you a little bit about myself. I hope that if you feel like you know me, you'll let me get to know you.” Sam began talking about how she was born in Southern California into what sounded like a perfect sort of home. “But that's how it looked on the outside,” she confided. “If you looked inside our house, you'd see how crazy dysfunctional it really was. My dad was a highly functional alcoholic. And my mom was addicted to pain pills. To make matters worse, they fought all the time—and my dad was abusive to my mom.
When I was just five it all blew up, and the police were called in, and I wound up in foster care.”