Killer Teens

Blind Date

Kate's POV

“It’s too late to cancel now.”

I groan. Brooke is right, of course; it would be rude and inappropriate for me to cancel half an hour before the date. But that doesn’t make this experience seem any more appealing.

“It’ll be awesome,” she promises. “Fiona described him to me, and he sounds cute. Dark hair, tall—you know the type.”

Brooke’s friend Fiona suggested this blind date for me, and quite frankly, Brooke doesn’t know much about this guy. All she has told me is that his name is Cole West and that he’s a year younger than me—Brooke’s age. Other than that, he’s a complete mystery. And I’m pretty uncomfortable with it.

“Jase and I will be there the whole time,” Brooke reminds me. “That’s the beauty of double dates—it’s never weird or awkward. We’ll keep things cool.”

I shrug and say nothing. No matter how hard she tries, Brooke can’t get me to look forward to this. I’ve never been a romantic, nor have I ever been lonely in that sense. I’ve always been a simple person—smart, but not complicated. Brooke is the boy-crazy one. She doesn’t understand how I’m okay with being alone because nothing bothers her more than being single. 

Then again, she wasn’t always that way.

“What band is this?” I ask, trying to change the subject. Brooke almost always has new music playing. We always hang out at her house—never mine—and today we’re in her room. She’s sprawled out across her bed, dark hair rippling over her comforter, and I find myself resenting her a little for her beauty. I hardly ever do anymore, but the thought of going on a double date with her feels like a major blow to my ego.

“M83—and don’t change the subject.”

“I didn’t think the conversation was getting anywhere.”

She pouts at that. “You might really like him.”

Brooke fancies herself a matchmaker. She knowsa lot of people (like Fiona), thanks to the top-of-the-line horse stableshe worksat, and she often setsup her school friends with her stable friends. She’s had such success with it, now she thinksshe shouldset me up with someone, too. 

“Cole won’t go for me, whoever he is,”I tell her. “Guys don’t see me that way, Brooke. I’m… plain.”

I don’t have Brooke’s intense good looks. I have wavy, dirty blond hair and brown eyes, just like half the other people in the world. I don’t have her bold personality, either. It’s a wonder that we’re even friends, really—but it’s fate; we live next door to each other. And not going to the same school helps.

“He’ll love you, Kate. Borrow my clothes—let me coach you on flirt tactics—just please say you’ll go.”

It’s not about clothes or flirt tactics, but there’s no point in arguing with a stone wall. So, a few minutes later, I find myself letting Brooke dress me like I’m a two-year-old.

Jason comes over while we’re still putting together my outfit, so Brooke told him to wait in the hallway. He does so very willingly; he’s as whipped as it gets. That’s how guys always are with her.

We manage to find a few things in her closet that fit me—I’ve always been a little curvier than Brooke, who’s too skinny for her own good—and I pull them on quickly before she can think of something more ridiculous for me to wear than skinny jeans and a flowery blouse—neither of which are my kind of clothes.

Finally we’re ready. We head out to Jason’s Lexus IS (given to him by his parents) and, as usual, the ride is very long and slow. He always drives slow with Brooke, claiming that he has “precious baggage,” one of the many lame Jason-isms that I try very hard to ignore. When we finally getto the restaurant, we’re fifteen minutes late.

“Hi,” Brooke says to the woman at the counter, trying to shove off Jason’s amorous attempts to pepper her cheeks with kisses. “We’re meeting Cole West. Is he here yet?”

“Yes,” the woman says, wearing an odd expression, “right this way, please.” She leads the way to a booth in the corner, where my future boyfriend (according to Brooke) is waiting. 

When I see him, I freeze

It’s not that he’s bad-looking—he’s actually pretty attractive, in a clean-cut, pale, dark-haired sort of way. But he’s too put together—too clean. Almost dauntingly so. His eyes are like Milo’s, dark as night, but they don’t have the same effect as Milo’s. Milo’s were the reason Brooke fell in love with him. Cole’s are the reason I’m suddenly shivering. 

He stands, moving too slowly to look natural. “Kate?" he asks, looking at me but letting his eyes flicker over to Brooke. I see Jason’s grip tighten around Brooke’s waist and want to laugh.

“Yeah,” I manage. “Hi.”

He scoots over to make room for me, and I take a seat next to him. Brooke and Jason sitacross from us. I glance at Brooke and see that, even though she’s smiling her charming smile, she looks uneasy.

“So,” says Cole. His voice issoft and smooth. “What kept you?”

He’s really going to bring up the fact that we were a few minutes late? This is already feeling like a bad idea. “Brooke just got overexcited about dressing me up, ”I say guardedly.

Cole glances at Brooke, looking annoyed, which immediately makes me feel defensive of her. I tend to have that reaction concerning boys and Brooke in general. 

“I see,” Cole says to Brooke. “You’re one of those girls.”

 “One of ‘those’ girls?”she repeats, a hot edge rising to her voice. 

He doesn’t look remotely fazed by her anger. “I know girls like you. Let me guess—cheerleader?”

Brooke gasps, gray eyes wider than usual, and she glowersat him in partial shock and partial fury. She’s not a cheerleader, for the record—not even close.“Jesus—I like looking nice; so what? You go and stereotype—”

“Babe,”Jason interrupts sweetly, gently nudging her to stop as he gestures to the waitress who is coming over to us. Brooke huffs a little, but quiets. I try not to blurt out anything I’ll later regret, but so far I’m not liking this date much.

“Hi,” greets the oblivious waitress. “May I take your drink orders?”

Brooke, still fuming, orders a Cherry Coke in a short voice. Jason does the same, as usual. I order a water, and Cole does the same—“Make sure not to forget the lemon.”

Brooke and I exchange a look.

“So,”Jason says, obviously seekinga change of subject. “Cole, where are you from?”

Cole blinks. “You don’t know?”

“We don’t know much about you,”I tell him carefully. “Brooke only talked to Fiona about you for a minute or two.”

“I see. Well, I was born here, in Tucker.”

“You live in Tucker?” Brooke asks. “Why don’t you go to Tucker High?”

Tucker High isthe public school Jason and Brooke goto; I attend Morrison, a private school in the area.

“I go to Morrison. Kate didn’t tell you?”

I stare at him, confused. “You go to my school?”

“You didn’t know that?” he asks, dark eyebrows furrowing and casting shadows over his eyes. “You’ve never seen me around? I see you all the time.”

I sputter a little, smiling gratefully when the waitress brings our drinks and takes our orders. “Sorry,” I mumble when she leaves. “I keep to myself at school.”

Brooke frowns at that. She doesn’t like hearing about my lonely life at Morrison; it makes her feel guilty about having such a great one at Tucker. “Are you a junior, then?”

Cole nods. “I’m seventeen, though, like Kate.”

How does he know how old I am?

I feel a bead of sweat form on my temple and wipe it away.

“So, tell us about yourself,”Jason says to Cole. It’s almost eerie, seeing someone like Jason, who is normally so at ease, so uncomfortable. His perfect blond hair and blue eyes are lost on his frowning expression.

Cole shrugs. “I’m not very interesting. Good grades, normal life. What about you, Kate?”

I bitemy lip. “What do you want to know?”

“Tell me about… your family.”

Brooke’s head shoots up. She sees my panicked expression and bites her lip for a second before taking off. “Her mom’s crazy. Like mine. Yesterday we were at that—”

“Sorry,” Cole interrupts smoothly, “but I was asking Kate.”

“Dude,” Jason says. “Chill.”

“I’m trying,” Cole says, his voice still level, “but your little girlfriend keeps trying to be the center of attention when I’m trying to get to know my date.”

Jason slams his fist down on the table. “What is wrong with you, man? You’re a freak!”

Cole’s expression somehow still looks collected. I don’t understand it. Did he just rattle off insults without realizing what he was doing? I’ve never seen anything like this. Jason was right; he is  a freak.

And I don’t want to do this any more.

“Maybe this was a bad idea,”Brooke says, obviously reading my mind. “Cole, I don’t think we’re… your kind of people.” She isn’t even attempting to be polite; she doesn’t seem to care what he thinks any more. 

“You’re not,” Cole shoots back.

“That’s it,”Jason says, standing up. “We’re leaving.”

Cole glares at him. “Kate can stay.”

Brooke snorts. “Like hell she’s staying.”

“Oh, do you own her now?”

“Hey!” Jason shouts. People are starting to look at us. “You want to be a freak on your own time, fine. But leave Brooke alone.”

“Gladly.”

Jason glares daggers at him as he slams a fifty down on the table.

“Come on, Katie,” Brooke says, nodding to me as she rises. Cole has definitely gotten to her; Brooke never calls me Katie.

I stand, too, sincerely grateful for the rescue, and glance back at Cole. “Sorry,” I mutter uncertainly.

And then I follow my friends out of the restaurant.