The Boyfriend Thief

CHAPTER 2





“Any idiot with a basic knowledge of firewalls could get into our school’s network,” my best friend Molly Pinski said.

“And how would you know that?” I asked. “Have you been hacking into the school’s network?”

Molly’s face turned as pink as the dyed stripes in her blonde hair. “Of course not. I was checking out the security features and noticed how obviously lacking they are.”

One of Molly’s favorite pastimes happened to be “testing” the security features of various establishments throughout town. Luckily for the businesses of Willowbrook, Molly didn’t hack into systems to do damage, only to see whether she could get in. She then offered the various businesses her services to help them increase their security—for a generous fee, of course. Molly was a natural-born businesswoman.

“I called Ms. Lancaster this morning—”

“Wait,” I interrupted. “You called our school’s computer lab instructor on a Sunday morning?”

“Yes,” Molly said.

“At home?”

“Where else would she be at eight A.M.? Anyway, I tried to explain the problems with the school’s firewall, but she hung up on me.”

I faked a gasp. “No. Really?”

Molly wagged a finger in my direction. “Mock all you want, but this is serious. I should do something to the school’s network to teach them all a lesson. Like change my grades.”

“I think that would hurt you more than it would anyone else,” I pointed out. Molly already had an A average. The only thing she could do was make her grades worse.

“Then they’d better hope no one else figures out how easy it is to hack into the grades.”

Molly could rant and rave about the injustice Ms. Lancaster had committed against her all day if I didn’t get her off the subject soon.

“I really need to talk to you about Elliott,” I told her.

No one was more surprised than me when Molly and Elliott suddenly started hanging out. She had had a few different boyfriends in the two years since she’d moved to Willowbrook, but Elliott was an entirely new species of guy for her. She wore ripped skinny jeans and combat boots while he wore khakis and polos. Molly talked databases and firewalls while Elliott talked three-point throws and cheerleaders in short skirts. What could they possibly have in common?

Molly shifted her position on the floral print couch in her living room and turned her attention back toward the James Bond movie she was watching. Goldfinger, of course, her favorite. “Not this again.”

“You didn’t see him with Tara last night. Something is going on between them, I know it.”

“Did you see them kiss or hear him ask her out?”

I gritted my teeth together and said, “No.”

Molly squeezed my arm. “I trust Elliott. I’m not one of those crazy girls who freaks out whenever her boyfriend talks to another girl. And besides, we’re not really together. Just talking and seeing how things go.”

“No one is going to think you’re crazy for suspecting him. He did cheat on Lila Mahoney.”

“That was in the ninth grade,” Molly pointed out. “I think Elliott may have grown up a bit in the last two years.”

“Don’t count on it,” I muttered under my breath.

“Look, Elliott can have female friends. He can even be friends with you, if you’ll let him. Spend some time with him and I’m sure you’ll like him as much as I do.”

I pressed my lips together, gritting my teeth. Molly didn’t know that Elliott and I had been friends once. I’d made it my mission to ensure she never found out what happened four years ago.

She was basically the only friend I had, the one person I trusted outside of my dad and brother. We’d formed a connection when she spotted a sticker for this mostly unknown band called Hallow Flux on my notebook and gushed about how she had all of their songs on her iPod. Ever since then, Molly and I had been a team against the rest of the world.

I was supposed to be happy for her for having a new love interest, at least according to the unspoken rule of best friends. But the girl had a new love interest every other month. Before New Year’s she had been devoted to the president of the technology club. Before that she was into a goth phase and dated Brian Kelley, who wore black lipstick. (I could always tell when they’d been making out under the stairwell because his lipstick would be smudged all over her chin.) How much breaking up could one person possibly take? She was going to get dumped and then I’d have to eat cartons of full fat strawberry cheesecake ice cream with her again and I was supposed to be thrilled?

“With your predisposed hatred of Elliott, you blow any little thing he does out of proportion,” Molly told me.

My mouth dropped open. “Out of proportion? What else could he and Tara have been doing? Alone?”

“Discussing homework? Sports? The economy? Something totally unrelated to any of the scenarios you’re dreaming up?”

Poor naive Molly. Always wanting to believe the best in people. She hadn’t yet learned how cruel the world could be.

“Elliott is not entirely the bad guy you’re making him out to be,” Molly said, popping another piece of popcorn into her mouth.

Oh, yes, he was. But of course, I couldn’t bring that summer up as my reason for hating Elliott for the rest of eternity. So I had to rely on other wrongs he’d done.

“What about when he tripped me in gym class?

Molly raised one eyebrow. “You’re not taking gym this year. How could he have tripped you?

I flailed my arms. “In eighth grade! He tripped me in front of the boys’ and girls’ classes.”

“Tell me you are not bringing up something that happened three years ago.”

“My knee was bruised for two weeks,” I said.

“Okay,” Molly said slowly, a mischievous gleam in her eye, “since we’re talking about ancient history, what about the egg incident?”

I stuffed a handful of popcorn into my mouth all at once to save me from responding. I couldn’t believe Elliott had told her about the egg incident.

“Do I need to jog your memory?” Molly asked. “Third grade field day. Egg in a spoon race. You cracked your egg over Elliott’s head when he beat you.”

I swallowed the soggy lump of popcorn and said, “I do not recall such an incident.”

She tilted her head to one side, letting her pink and blonde bangs fall in front of one eye. “Sure, you don’t. Elliott told me all about it.”

“That was a long time ago,” I grumbled.

“So were all of the things you like to bring up in your case against Elliott.”

“His cheating on Lila was only two years ago. How do you know he won’t do it again?”

Molly frowned as she picked through the bowl for the cheesiest kernels. “I don’t. But you know what? I’d like to have the chance to find out for myself.”

Corrie, Molly’s mom, padded into the room in snowflake pajamas and Christmas tree slippers, even though Christmas had passed almost five months ago. “Oh, Sean Connery again?” she asked, leaning over the back of the couch to grab some popcorn. “I’ll take some of that, shaken not stirred, any day.”

Molly cringed. “Gross, Mom. Go have your middle-aged fantasies somewhere not within my hearing.”

Molly’s mom wasn’t old, as far as parents went, and she looked younger than she was, with long blonde hair and blue eyes like Molly’s. She hated it when I called her Mrs. Pinski, since she and Molly’s dad had been divorced for over ten years now.

“Corrie,” I said, taking advantage of having an impartial jury in my case, “give us your opinion. If someone is a complete jerk all hours of the day and flirts with another girl, shouldn’t any girl interested in going out with him realize the errors of her ways and kick him to the curb?”

Corrie tilted her head to the side, the way Molly always did. “Depends. How hot is said guy?”

“Hideous,” I said at the same time Molly said, “Smoking.”

Corrie laughed. “I see this is debate will be waged for a long time.” She popped some popcorn into her mouth, chewed for a moment, and then said, “The only way to settle it, girls, is to come to a compromise.”

“Which is?” Molly asked.

“Hook up with him a couple of times and then kick him to the curb,” Corrie said as she shuffled out of the room.

Molly shuddered. “Why do I have a scary image of my mom hooking up with random guys in my head right now? Ugh!” She slapped the top of her head a few times.

“Back to our problem,” I said. “I can’t be as forgiving and trusting as you are. Once a snake, always a snake.”

“People change,” Molly told me. She sighed as she selected a few kernels from the bowl. “Would it make you feel better if I promise not to fall in love with him until you have a chance to give me some concrete evidence to support your allegations?”

“Yes!” I shouted.

She shot me a dirty look. “You don’t have to be so enthused. I’m not saying that I won’t talk to him, but I’ll hold off on getting serious. Like a probationary period, one month. If he’s proven himself trustworthy, then I’m free to date him all I want. I’m free to marry him and have a thousand hacker babies if I want. Deal?”

I held out a cheesy hand toward her. “Deal.”

My lips curled into a satisfied smirk as we shook on it. All I had to do was wait for Elliott and Tara to slip up—which they undoubtedly would—and then I’d be rid of Elliott Reiser for good.