The Boyfriend Thief

by Shana Norris

  “Good,” Dad said, still bopping around the room as he put away the clean dishes. “Be sure to be home for dinner at six.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Why? What’s going on at dinner?”

  Dad just smiled at me. “Food. Conversation. You know, dinner.”

  Instantly, my brain whirred with possibilities. He acted like a smug child with a juicy secret he wasn’t telling. Whatever it was Dad had up his sleeve, I had a feeling I wouldn’t like it.

  * * *

  “So,” Molly said, pressing the power button on her laptop as she set it up on the coffee table in Zac’s living room, “this is a preliminary database. Something you can present in class and give an idea of how it will work. There are a lot more features I have planned, but I’ll have to work on those over the summer. Even though this incarnation is very basic, I think it should be enough to get you an A.” She grinned, proud of herself.

  “I hope so,” Zac said. “I could use it. Not all of us are valedictorians in the making.” He winked at me.

  My heart did a weird fluttering dance. What was wrong with me today? Ever since I’d arrived at Zac’s house a few minutes before, I’d been unable to stop looking at him. I liked the way his dark hair fell into his eyes even after he tried to brush them away. I liked how pink his lips were against his naturally brown skin.

  Stop looking at Zac! I told myself.

  Molly typed in a web address and brought up the website Delia had designed. The logo for A to Z Love Matches featured a cartoon cupid shooting an arrow between our initials.

  “I’ve put in the data you guys gave me,” Molly said. “So we can pick someone—let’s use you, Zac—and we’ll see what matches the computer gives us.”

  Molly typed in Zac’s name to pull up his profile and then clicked the flashing “Match Me!” button she had added to the site. A moment later, a couple of names were displayed.

  “Rita Haysworth?” Zac asked. “Who is that?”

  “Freshman,” I said.

  Molly laughed as she read the other name. “You got matched with Pamela Hopkins!”

  Pamela Hopkins was a junior whose nickname was Goliath. She played on the basketball team, was about six foot five and very muscular. She could have crushed Zac easily.

  “Pamela’s a nice girl,” Zac said, although he didn’t look too thrilled at the match.

  “Keep in mind there are only about twenty profiles in the database right now,” Molly said. “So it’s possible you’d have a lot more matches if we had more profiles.”

  Zac nodded and then said, “Do Avery.”

  “No,” I said. “I’m not into this matchmaking thing.”

  Zac reached behind Molly and playfully shoved my shoulder. “Scared you’ll get matched with someone gross?”

  I ignored the tingles on my arm from Zac’s touch. “No, I don’t believe in this stuff, remember?”

  “Then it doesn’t matter what the computer says,” he pointed out. “It’s a silly game. Do it, Molly.”

  Molly typed my name in, hit the button, and…nothing.

  The page displayed the words “Zero matches found” in big black letters.

  Great. Even a computer knew I wasn’t meant to be matched up with anyone.

  A long moment of stunned silence fell over the room. Then Molly cleared her throat and said, “Well, like I said, there are only twenty profiles in the system right now. Once we get more…”

  I tuned out Molly’s excuses and settled back into the couch cushions. Proof right in front of me that perfect matches didn’t exist, at least not for me. I’d known all along. I’d made it my mantra.

  So why did the confirmation hurt so much?

  Molly stayed for a while longer, going over her future plans for the site and potential revenue sources. Her ideas would keep her busy throughout the summer and into next year.

  I sat slumped on the Greeleys’ couch, barely paying attention as they talked. How could the two of them believe any of this might be real? It was a stupid computer program, lines of code, that pulled out names based on things that in the end never mattered at all. Because you couldn’t predict people and you couldn’t force romance by pulling two names out of a hat and pairing them together. The entire project was doomed to fail.

  That, at least, would get me out of dancing for Zac. If he lost our bet by us failing the project, then I wouldn’t owe him anything. We could go back to our separate lives in which I slept soundly in my bed on Saturday nights instead of running around town with him.

  “And that’s basically it,” Molly said as she packed up her laptop. “If you have any questions or suggestions, email them to me and I’ll add them to the list.”

  Zac stood and grinned at her. “Thanks a lot, Molly. This is going to be the best project in the entire class.”

  Molly huffed. “Don’t be so sure of yourself. I have a project of my own, remember? And it’s pretty spanking awesome, if I say so myself.”

  When Molly left, Zac and I were alone again. His family was out for the day and the house was quiet. He had set out bowls of chips and cans of soda, but I’d been too preoccupied to even touch them. Molly had no qualms about free chips though and she had taken advantage while she was there, dropping crumbs all over the coffee table.

  I couldn’t resist the urge to clean and I grabbed a napkin to sweep up the broken chips.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Zac said, reaching forward to pull my hand back.

  I looked at where his fingers touched my skin. Strange tingles worked their way up my arm from his touch. I had never felt anything like it before, this dizzying sensation that made it impossible for me to say anything. All I could think about were Zac’s fingers on my hand. I silently recited the names of the bones in my hands, trying to steady myself.

  But the chant did nothing to calm the swirling thoughts in my head.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. “You’ve been really quiet today.”

  I needed to think of something that would keep me from noticing how close Zac was. “What if Mr. Freeman hates our project?” I blurted out.

  “I doubt he’ll hate it. He’s liked it so far. He said it was unique and interesting.”

  “But what if he realizes matchmaking doesn’t work? What if everyone in class wants us to match them up and we can’t? You saw how it didn’t have any matches for me. What if it has no matches for everyone else too?”

  “I thought you didn’t believe in this stuff anyway,” Zac said.

  I took a deep breath. It was hard to think, with Zac’s hand still on mine. He made no movement to pull away. “I don’t. I...I have to make an A on this project. I can’t fail.”

  “Why?” Zac challenged me.

  “Because failing means I’m not good enough. Because then everyone will know I’m not as perfect as they think I am.”

  Zac reached up to touch my cheek with his free hand, a gentle brush across my skin. “You are perfect, Avery. Just like you are, flaws and everything.”

  I dropped my gaze to my lap, unable to meet his eyes. “I’m far from perfect.”

  His fingers traced the angle of my jaw. “Don’t do that,” he said.

  “Do what?”

  “Put yourself down when someone compliments you,” Zac said. “You remember what you said at my dad’s store? About wanting to know how to not be miserable? The only person who can make you miserable is yourself, if you hold back because you’re too afraid of failure to take a chance.”

  I forced myself to look up at him. He stared back at me, his eyes wide. In that moment, I knew that he saw me, clearly saw everything I’d fought so hard to hide. And I saw that underneath the jokes and the animated exterior, Zac was just as afraid of not being good enough as I was.

  His fingers trailed over my cheek, moving toward my lips and leaving an electric tingle in their path. I tried to keep my breathing even, but my lungs and heart were working overtime.

  My body seemed to have developed a mind of its own. I certainly didn
’t tell it to lean across the space between us. I didn’t tell my eyes to close or my lips to pucker together. I had lost all control of myself and I couldn’t stop my hand from turning around to intertwine my fingers with Zac’s. His free hand moved up my cheek and around the back of my head, pulling me closer to him. I didn’t make any effort to pull away.

  When our lips touched, I couldn’t remember why I had ever tried to hide from him.

  He crushed his warm lips to mine, pulling himself across the distance between us. I fell backward into the plush pillows, my arms wrapping around him to bring him closer. Our bodies fit perfectly together, as if everything—my mom’s leaving, my fight with Hannah and Elliott, the breakup plan, the midnight slushies—had all happened specifically to lead us right here, right now.

  And then he jumped, pulling back from me so suddenly his fingers tangled in my hair and pulled me with him.

  We stared at each other across the couch, both panting heavily. My heartbeat sounded like thunder in the silent room.

  I pressed my hands together between my knees, trying to stop the way my entire body was shaking. What had just happened?

  Zac ran a hand through his hair, causing pieces of it to stick out wildly. “I...I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...That shouldn’t have happened.”

  He sounded weird, as if he had to force the words out. My lips still burned from the kiss. I could still feel his touch electrifying my skin.

  I should have told him the truth. It’s okay if you want to kiss me because your girlfriend doesn’t even want you anymore! But the words were stuck somewhere in my throat.

  He stood and walked across the room to put as much distance between us as possible.

  “You should leave,” he said. His back was to me, as if he couldn’t bear to even look at me after what we’d done.

  I forced my legs to stand despite their trembling. “Zac?” My tongue fumbled to get the word out, as if I had forgotten how to speak properly.

  I reached toward him, but he flinched and I dropped my hand. “I have a girlfriend,” he said, though I wasn’t sure if he was speaking to me or himself. “We shouldn’t have done that.”

  I bit my lip when tears stung my eyes. Do not cry, I told myself. Having feelings for Zac Greeley was not allowed. This had only ever been a job to get me to Costa Rica. No feelings, no regrets. I had only kissed him to finish the job.

  “Do you really want me to go?” I asked. The way he had kissed me, it hadn’t felt wrong. He wanted to kiss me, and I wanted him to kiss me again.

  He nodded, still not looking at me. When I walked toward the door, he turned suddenly. I thought—hoped—for a moment he might pull me back to him and ask me to stay.

  But he didn’t. He disappeared down the hall into the shadows of his house as if he couldn’t get away from me fast enough. He was just like everyone else I’d ever known.

  Everyone always ran away in the end.

  Chapter 23

  My phone buzzed with a new email while I still sat in the Greeleys’ driveway, unable to work up the energy to drive away. I pulled out my phone and checked the message from Ian.

  The pics u asked 4, he had written.

  I downloaded the attachments, furrowing my brow in concentration. The first couple showed Hannah alone, standing outside the mall cinema. But then a tall guy joined her. I couldn’t see his face, but the blonde hair obviously wasn’t Zac’s dark head. None of the pictures showed Hannah and her mystery man kissing, only walking and talking.

  The next pictures weren’t of Hannah. They showed Elliott at the Rose Castle. Ian had managed to get a shot of Elliott sitting in a booth with a girl, but a large plant behind the booth obscured the side of her face. The picture was taken from behind, probably so Elliott wouldn’t notice, and I couldn’t tell who the girl was. But Elliott sat close to her and had his arm around her shoulders, looking awfully cozy.

  That lying little cheat. I knew he was running around behind Molly’s back! And I had a feeling I knew which little bimbo he was with—Tara from work. I was so, so right! Now I had the proof to bring him down.

  Thanks. Come by tomorrow and I’ll give you a free shake, I texted back.

  My hands gripped the steering wheel tight as I drove toward Diggity Dog House. I wanted to punch Elliott Reiser right in the nose. No, I wanted to kick him in the groin and then punch him in the nose. Hurt him as much as he was hurting Molly. Why hadn’t she listened to me when I tried to warn her?

  Elliott was on giant hot dog duty that day and I spotted him standing outside the restaurant as I pulled up. I slid to a quick stop in the parking lot, barely remembering to put the car into park as I stormed out. I marched toward him, gripping my phone with the pictures of him and his secret fling in one hand.

  “Lying creep!” I exclaimed, pushing at the back of his costume.

  Elliott stumbled forward a few steps before he caught his balance. He turned around and pulled back the mesh mask. “What is wrong with you?” he asked, glaring at me.

  I held up my phone, shaking it in his face. “This is what’s wrong with me! You’re a cheater and I’m going to make sure Molly knows.”

  Elliott held up his hands, which were covered by Bob’s big white gloves. “Whoa. Back up. What are you talking about?”

  He tried to grab my phone, but I pulled it out of his reach. No way was he getting hold of those pictures. I knew the first thing he would do was destroy the evidence.

  “It’s all right here,” I said, feeling smug and proud of myself as I looked up at him. “Your lying ends now. I don’t know how you managed to win over Molly, but I can guarantee she won’t fall for your pathetic charm anymore once she sees these pictures. I have all the evidence I need to prove to her that you’re sneaking around behind her back with some bobble headed tramp. Who is it? Tara? You two have this perfect little fling going on, don’t you? I hope you’ll be happy together once Molly finds out—”

  “Once Molly finds out what?”

  I leaned over to see Molly standing behind Elliott. She had just come out of Diggity Dog House, slurping on a large milkshake, but Elliott’s costume had blocked her from my view. He turned around awkwardly, holding up his hands.

  “I swear, Molly, I have no idea what she’s talking about,” he said.

  I scowled at him. “Oh, really? Then explain this.”

  Molly took the phone and cycled through the pictures, her face creased in confusion.

  “What are these?” she asked.

  “Ask him,” I said. “Ask him who he’s been sneaking around with.”

  Molly shook her head. “You’ve been spying on Elliott?”

  Her tone wasn’t what I expected. She sounded angry, but she was glaring at me, not Elliott.

  “I had Ian keep an eye on him.” I flailed my arms. “But look! I was right about him! He’s a cheat and—”

  “No, he’s not,” Molly said, shoving the phone back into my hands. “The only person he’s sneaking around with is me.”

  My mouth fell open as I stared at my best friend. “What?”

  “Yeah,” Elliott said, putting an arm around Molly’s shoulders. “My bobble headed tramp is your best friend.”

  I looked between the two of them, trying to comprehend the situation. This was not turning out anything like I’d planned.

  “You’ve been lying to me?” I asked. “You promised you wouldn’t go out with him.”

  Molly’s face had turned bright red and her nostrils flared. “Don’t turn this around on me. I can’t believe you’d spy on Elliott. How could you do something like that? You want to rave on and on about other people lying and sneaking around, when you’re doing the exact same thing!”

  “Molly, I—”

  “Don’t make excuses,” Molly said through clenched teeth. “You act like you’re better than everyone else because you’re so smart and have the best grades in school and you want to go off to Costa Rica. But you know what, Avery? You mess up sometimes, just like everyone else. And if
you want everyone to forgive you for your mistakes, maybe you should start forgiving other people for theirs. You don’t have all the answers. You don’t have a freaking clue about how anyone else around here feels because you’re too focused on yourself.”

  Tears blurred my vision and I tried to blink them back to keep them from falling.

  “Stay out of my business. I don’t need you to make decisions for me.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed Elliott quickly. “See you later,” she said to him before turning and walking away.

  I stared at the sidewalk as Molly’s words echoed in my head.

  “Well,” Elliott said in a fake peppy voice, “that went well! Good going, James. Are you satisfied now that I’m not the creep you think I am? If you weren’t so dead set on believing the worst in people, you might have realized this long ago and saved yourself from embarrassment.”

  Then Elliott replaced the mesh face mask and went back to waving to passersby, ignoring me completely.

  * * *

  “Does she live here now?” I muttered when I saw Trisha’s SUV in my driveway. Scrubbing at my teary eyes, I marched up toward the house. I was not crying over Zac. I wasn’t the kind of girl who cried over some guy. I wasn’t even crying over Molly and Elliott. A best friend who lied and sneaked around behind my back was no best friend at all.

  If anything, I was crying because the whole world sucked.

  I stomped into the house, shutting the front door behind me a little harder than usual and making the pictures on the wall rattle.

  “Avery, is that you?” Dad called from another room. “We’re in the kitchen. Come on in!”

  I followed the sound of his voice to the kitchen, but stopped in the doorway, staring in at the sight before me. Dad held a steaming bowl of spaghetti while Ian was making adjustments to a big sign on the wall over the table that read “Happy Mother’s Day!” On the table sat a huge bouquet of lilies and violets in a crystal vase. Our best china was laid out on the table, the set we’d only used once or twice in my lifetime and the dishes to complete the meal—salad, garlic bread, and steamed broccoli—crowded around the flower arrangement.