As a child, Devon had always loved playing detective games and reading mysteries. After she outgrew those things, she moved on to crime and police TV series and films. Sometimes she even fantasized about becoming some kind of a sleuth herself—although she’d probably have to get a lot more serious about academics to do so.
However, as she walked toward the gym, Devon felt a sense of excitement. Like she was “on a case.” The idea of going undercover to find out the dirt on Felicia was appealing on many levels. To be fair, it wasn’t as if she was out to smear the girl’s name. She just wanted to get to the bottom of it. If Felicia wound up looking bad as a result, well, that was Felicia’s problem. At least that’s what Devon told herself as she went into the girls’ locker room. As luck would have it, Felicia just happened to be in Devon’s fifth period conditioning class.
Devon had probably exchanged less than a dozen words with Felicia since Devon had started school here in the fall. It wasn’t that Devon didn’t like Felicia—more like she hadn’t really gone out of her way to get to know her. Today she was ready to make the first move.
“Hey, Felicia,” she said in a friendly tone. “Cute outfit.”
Felicia looked surprised, then doubtful. “Uh . . . thanks . . . I guess.”
“Showing lots of leg there,” Devon said lightly as she started to peel off her clothes for PE.
Felicia just shrugged. “So?”
“I can’t believe Mrs. Dorman hasn’t called you in yet,” Amanda Norton said in a slightly snooty tone.
“I know.” Tristin Wilson tossed Felicia a disgusted look. “Did you ever stop to think that dressing like that could get Northwood back into those stupid uniforms again?”
“Ugh, I hated those uniforms.” Amanda wrinkled her nose as she wiggled out of her jeans.
“If they bring back the detested uniforms, we’ll have Felicia to thank,” Tristin added.
Felicia glared at Tristin and Amanda as she grabbed up her stuff, toting it down to the other end of the locker room where she continued to dress by herself.
“What’s her problem anyway?” Devon said to no one in particular.
“Haven’t you heard?” Tristin looked over her shoulder and giggled.
“Heard what?” Devon asked with interest.
“The reason Felicia dresses like that.” Tristin looked at Amanda and laughed in a secretive way.
Devon moved closer to the two girls. “Why?”
“I don’t know if we should tell you . . .” Tristin glanced at Amanda.
Amanda firmly shook her head no.
“We can trust Devon,” Tristin told Amanda. “She’s cool.”
“Yeah.” Devon tried not to sound overly eager. “You can trust me.”
“Felicia’s been trying to make a little extra money,” Tristin whispered.
“What do you mean?” Devon asked.
Tristin gave a knowing nod. “You know what they say, dress for the job.”
“Tristin.” Amanda gave her friend a warning look. “Watch your mouth.”
“Seriously?” Devon feigned a laugh as she tried to absorb their insinuation. Were they just messing with her? Or did they really know something? Seeing Miss Campton coming out of her office, Devon lowered her voice. “Are you really saying that Felicia is a—well, you know.”
“Haven’t you seen her ad on MyPlace.com?” Tristin asked.
“What?” Devon watched Miss Campton pinning something onto the bulletin board.
“She advertises for guys,” Tristin whispered.
“On MyPlace?” Devon couldn’t believe it.
“Look and see.” Tristin whispered a sleazy sounding name in Devon’s ear. “That’s what she calls herself on there.”
Devon looked at Amanda now. “Is this really true?”
Amanda just shrugged as she pulled on a tank top.
“Look it up.” Tristin shoved her feet into her shoes. “It’s all there for everyone to see.” She grinned. “Go ahead and tell your guy friends. I’m sure she can use the business.”
“Tristin!” Amanda frowned with disapproval. “Knock it off.”
But Tristin just laughed.
As Devon pulled on her shorts, she glanced over to where Felicia was pulling on a T-shirt with her back toward them. Devon frowned at Felicia’s relatively boring white underwear. If Tristin’s insinuations were true, Devon would’ve expected something a little more risqué. Then again, you never could tell.
Throughout class, Devon couldn’t stop thinking about the name Tristin had told her. It sounded like the name of an exotic dancer, or maybe something worse. Anyway, she couldn’t wait to investigate this further. She would look it up on her iPhone as soon as she could. If it was for real, it would prove that Cassidy was spot-on in her suspicions about Felicia. A girl like that did not belong in the DG. Furthermore, she didn’t belong in this school. Devon wasn’t exactly an expert on all the school rules, but she knew there was a code of honor here and, if Tristin was telling the truth, Felicia had broken it.
It wasn’t until after the last bell of the day rang that Devon could turn on her iPhone. As she walked to her locker, she entered MyPlace and ran a search on the name Tristin had given her. Sure enough, a page popped up—along with some very skanky-looking shots of Felicia. Devon blinked in surprise as she read some of the suggestive stuff written there—was Felicia crazy? This page could get her kicked out of Northwood in a heartbeat. Or maybe that’s what she wanted. Devon remembered when she’d first been forced to attend school here, she’d hoped to get kicked out and return to her old public school. Maybe that was Felicia’s game.
As Devon turned toward her locker bay, she knew her friends needed to see this ASAP. They would be nuts to invite Felicia to join the DG. She forwarded the link to all of them. Let them decide for themselves what Felicia was truly like. If they still wanted someone like that in the DG, Devon for one would be outraged.
“Hey, Devon,” Cassidy called out as she and Emma came over to where Devon was just closing her locker. “Need a ride home?”
“Sure.” Devon grinned victoriously. “You guys checked your phones yet?”
“No.” Cassidy reached into her bag, extracting a phone. “What’s up?”
“You’ll see.” Devon poked Emma. “Come on, get out your phone.”
As Emma was digging out her phone, Devon nudged Cassidy. “Did you have any luck finding out about Felicia?” she asked.
“A little,” Cassidy said as she turned on her phone. “Nothing more than just gossip, really.”
“I noticed Felicia going into the counseling center right after sixth period,” Emma said a bit glumly. “I’m sure it was to see Mrs. Dorman about how she was dressed. But I felt sorry for Felicia. She looked pretty sad.”
“What is this?” Cassidy held up her phone. “Is this for real?”
“Does it look like it’s real?” Devon challenged.
“Yeah . . . but—”
“What is it?” Emma demanded. “My stupid phone is too slow.” She leaned over to see Cassidy’s phone. “Show me.”
Cassidy held her phone out for Emma to see. “No way!” Emma exclaimed.
“That’s Felicia,” Cassidy said quietly.
“Yeah, but she’d never put that up—”
“Amanda and Tristin said that she’s trying to make money,” Devon said quietly, watching her friends’ faces. Both Cassidy and Emma seemed appropriately shocked.
“No way,” Emma said again. “I don’t believe it.”
“Then why does she dress like that?” Devon demanded.
“I don’t know.” Emma frowned. “I just can’t believe it.”
“Maybe Felicia’s family is having financial problems,” Devon suggested. “Tuition here isn’t exactly cheap, you know.”
“Even so.” Emma stubbornly shook her head. “I’m not buying it.”
“I have to agree with Em on this,” Cassidy said. “It’s too unbelievable. Felicia would be nuts to put this up on the internet.”
“Why would she do it?” Emma demanded.
“Don’t you guys pay attention to the news?” Devon asked her. “This stuff is happening all over the country.”
“Maybe in the school you used to go to. But in Northwood? I don’t think so.” Cassidy pursed her lips.
“Who else did you send this to?” Emma demanded.
“Just Abby and Bryn,” Devon told her.
“You shouldn’t have sent it to anyone,” Emma said hotly. “That was wrong.”
“But it’s on MyPlace,” Devon argued. “For the whole world to see.”
“That’s true,” Cassidy agreed. “It’s not fair to blame Devon for it being out there. Don’t shoot the messenger, Em. I’m actually glad she found this.” She pointed at Emma. “You’re just in denial.”
“It’s okay, Em.” Devon slipped an arm around her shoulders. “I like that you insist on thinking the best of people. At least sometimes you do.” She frowned in Emma’s face. “Sometimes you think the worst of me, don’t you?”
Emma looked slightly contrite. “I’m sorry, Devon. But sometimes you deserve it.”
Devon laughed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“Well, if you guys want a ride, let’s move it,” Cassidy told them. “I have a pile of homework I want to get started on before our meeting at Costello’s.”
“That should be very interesting,” Devon said as she looped the handle of her bag over a shoulder. “I can’t wait to see what the others think about this new little development.”
“What am I going to say to Felicia?” Emma asked glumly as they walked across the parking lot toward Cassidy’s car.
“Why not just tell her the truth?” Cassidy suggested. “Maybe she’ll rethink some of her, uh, choices.”
“Right.” Emma let out a loud sigh. “I’m going to walk up to her and say, hey, Felicia, sorry you can’t be in our club because we have rules against hookers.”
Devon laughed. “You don’t have to be that honest.”
“Poor Felicia,” Emma said as they got into Cassidy’s car. “I feel sorry for her.”
“Why?” Devon demanded as she got into the passenger seat in front. “It’s not like anyone forced her into this—well, whatever it is she’s into.”
“We still don’t know this for sure,” Emma said meekly from behind.
“We know that she’s been dressing pretty strangely lately,” Devon reminded her. “We know that you saw her going into the office of the dean of girls. We know she’s got those photos and stuff on MyPlace. And I saw her in the locker room. The way she went off by herself . . . well, it was almost like she was ashamed.”
“Can’t blame her for that,” Cassidy said sadly. “I agree with Emma, I feel sorry for her too.”
“So do you want her to be part of the DG?” Devon demanded.
“No, of course, not.” Cassidy started to back the car.
“How about you, Em?”
“No . . . not if what you say is true. I can still try to be her friend, though, can’t I?”
“You really want to be a friend to a girl like that?” Devon asked.
“Well, I’ve been a friend to you,” Emma declared, “and you’ve made some pretty stupid mistakes, Devon. Don’t forget about that.”
“I know.” Devon slumped down into the seat. “I’ve already told you guys that I’m sorry. I really am sorry, and I want to do better.”
“We know.” Cassidy reached over and patted her on the shoulder. “But we don’t need more than one project girl in the club.”
“What?” Devon sat up straighter. “You’re calling me a project girl now?”
Cassidy laughed. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”
“You have to admit that you’ve put our friendship to the test,” Emma said. “Can you blame me for thinking it’s just a little ironic that you’re being this hard on Felicia?”
“Just because I care about the DG?” Devon turned around to lock eyes with Emma. “You want to see the DG turn into something that—”
“Stop fighting,” Cassidy insisted as she pulled up to the stop sign. “You’re going to distract my driving.”
“Sorry,” Emma mumbled.
“Yeah, me too.” Devon slumped back down into the seat. Did her friends really see her like that? Like she was a project? Something they always had to save and rescue? Maybe it was true.
“Now everyone’s going to get quiet?” Cassidy asked. “This is the thanks I get for giving you guys a ride?”
“Sorry . . . I was just thinking,” Devon told her.
“You haven’t told us what’s up with your mom,” Cassidy said quietly.
“Yeah,” Emma chimed in. “Is she really getting married to what’s-his-name?”
“Rodney.” Devon didn’t like the sound of his name or the taste it left in her mouth. “They want to get married around Christmas.”
“Oh?” Cassidy glanced her way. “How do you feel about that?”
“Like my mom’s lost her mind.”
“What’s wrong with the guy?”
“Where do I begin?” Devon groaned. Did she really want to go here? And then again, why not? “For starters, he doesn’t even have a job. Plus he’s younger than my mom.”
“Oh no, does that mean your mom’s a cougar?”
“I guess.” Devon grimaced. “And he tries to act real cool around me. Like I should think he’s all that. The truth is, I can’t stand him.”
“For any special reason?” Emma asked. “Or just in general?”
“He’s been married a couple of times already, and he’s got a little girl from his first marriage. From what I can see, he pretty much ignores her.”
“What a lowlife.”
“Tell me about it.”
“What’s your mom see in him?” Cassidy asked.
Devon just laughed.
“He’s good-looking,” Emma told her. “At least that’s what my mom said. I guess she met him a while back.”
“He might be good-looking in our moms’ eyes,” Devon said, “but I think he’s a just a big jerk. I’ll bet that even if he and Mom do get married, it won’t last more than a year, two at best. The good news is that I should be long gone by the time it unravels.” She sighed. “But I still don’t like the idea of my mom getting her heart broken . . . again.”
“It makes me want to be über-careful about the man I marry,” Cassidy said somberly. “Not that I’m planning anything. Not until I’m at least thirty anyway.” She made a nervous laugh.
Now they all took turns making jokes about guys and marriage, but as Cassidy’s car pulled up to Devon’s house, Devon felt a dark cloud of sadness settle over her. It was the same black cloud she’d been experiencing ever since her mom had gotten involved with Rodney a few weeks ago. Just the same, she made a stiff smile as she told her friends good-bye. As she got out of the car, giving what she hoped looked like a lighthearted wave, she wished that she had someplace else to go home to. Some other life . . . something different than this.