“Oh. Sorry,” Devra said. “Did I scare you?”
“No. I … uh … was daydreaming,” Gretchen managed to say.
Gretchen stared at the necklace that swung down from Devra’s throat, large jewel-like blue beads, a little darker than the blue designer top she wore. Her red hair was pulled back in a single braid. Gretchen couldn’t help but notice how creamy and perfect her skin was under the harsh ceiling lights.
Devra’s thin smile revealed that startling Gretchen had pleased her.
Gretchen lowered her eyes to Devra’s hand. Two of her fingers were heavily wrapped in bandages. “What happened to your hand?” she asked.
Devra held it up. “Acid burns. Believe it?”
Gretchen blinked. “Excuse me? Acid? How—?”
Devra lowered the hand to her lap. She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know where I get these crazy ideas. There’s an antique cabinet my dad loves. It was painted badly, and the paint is cracking. I decided to refinish it for him. For his birthday. I’m going to surprise him with it.”
“And the acid?” Gretchen said.
“I’m using this kind of acid to remove the old paint. They showed me how to use it at the home crafts store. But I had trouble opening the bottle and…” She raised the hand again. “It burned so bad. Do you believe our housekeeper had to drive me to the emergency room?”
“Whoa. That’s horrible,” Gretchen said.
Devra rolled her eyes again. “Dad will love the cabinet.… If he ever sees it. He’s away a lot.”
What does she want? Gretchen wondered. She didn’t sit down to discuss her cabinet. Or her father. Is she going to ask me about kissing Sid in the department store?
“I want to talk to you,” Devra said, burying the bandaged hand in her lap. “You’re just a junior, right?”
Gretchen nodded. “Yeah.” She gazed down at her half-uneaten cheeseburger. Her stomach was twisted in knots now. She knew she’d never finish it.
“Well, I’m a senior,” Devra said. “This is my last chance, you know?”
Gretchen squinted at her. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, this is my last chance to make the cheerleading squad. Because I’ll be gone next year.”
Gretchen nodded. She realized she had her suddenly icy hands clasped tightly in her lap. “So?”
Devra leaned across the table. “So maybe we can make a deal.” When Gretchen didn’t respond to that, Devra continued. “I don’t know if you’re any good or not. I guess Coach Walker thought you were good enough to compete with me. But—”
“Can I get you anything else?” Rachel Martin reappeared at the table.
“You could try not interrupting people,” Devra snapped.
Rachel blushed. “Sorry. I—”
“Just the check, please,” Gretchen said.
Devra waited for Rachel to leave. “All I’m saying is, let me win the tryout tomorrow. You’ll be an alternate. Chances are, you’ll get to fill in for somebody. You’ll be with the squad the whole year. Then I’ll graduate and go happily away. And it’ll be all yours.”
Gretchen suddenly realized that her mouth had dropped open. She was staring at Devra in disbelief. Devra’s words kept repeating in Gretchen’s mind. She just couldn’t get her head around what Devra was asking her.
Deliberately blow the tryout?
“I … don’t … think … so,” she managed to say.
Devra let out a whoosh of air. She couldn’t hide her frustration. Gretchen saw that she wasn’t used to people saying no to her.
“Devra, I can’t fail on purpose tomorrow,” she said softly, clasping her hands together even more tightly. “Coach Walker saw my highlight reel. She saw what I can do. If I suddenly turned into a klutz…”
Devra’s eyes flashed angrily. “What would it take to change your mind? How about a five-hundred-dollar credit at Dalby’s?”
Gretchen gasped. “Are you actually bribing me?”
“Think of the outfits you could buy, Gretchen. You could upgrade your whole wardrobe. You wouldn’t have to wear those Old Navy rejects.”
“That’s disgusting!” Gretchen cried. “Do you really think you can get anything you want by paying people? By using your family’s store to—”
“How about a thousand-dollar store credit?” Devra interrupted. “Just stop and think about it.”
“No way.” Gretchen realized her whole body was trembling, trembling in anger. “I can’t believe this is happening,” she said. “I can’t believe you would stoop so low. How can it be so important to you, Devra?”
“I need it for college,” Devra replied through gritted teeth. Her cheeks were bright pink. Her features were tight with anger. “Listen to me—”
“No. I’m going to try my hardest at the tryout,” Gretchen insisted. “And if I’m better than you—”
Devra leaned close and practically spit her next words in Gretchen’s ear. “You wouldn’t want Stacy to know about that little love scene you had at the store with her boyfriend—would you?”
Gretchen pulled her head back. She crossed her arms in front of her, as if shielding herself. “No way. No way. No way. I won’t do it.” Her heart was pounding so hard, she felt dizzy.
Devra didn’t reply. She just nodded. She slid out of the booth and glared down at Gretchen. “You’ll regret this. I promise.”
“Good luck at the tryout,” Gretchen said.
Devra sneered at her. “Break a leg.”