The Boyfriend App (14 page)

HarperCollins Publishers

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chapter fourteen

With four days left until Public announces two grand prizewinners, one mobile application is noticeably absent from the Top Ten list. Audrey McCarthy’s Boyfriend App hit its stride early this week, riding high on teen sensation Danny Beaton’s Twitter plug. But after thousands of failed matches and painful rejections, it appears Americans teens are ready to say goodbye to the Boyfriend App and recognize it as the too-good-to-be-true marketing ploy it really was.

Excerpted from
http://www.teensblogtoo.com
by Xi Liang

It was Tuesday, and
TeensBlogToo
was one of the many blogs dissing the BFA that Blake and the Martin sisters posted as their Party statuses, along with a cheery
J
.

I pulled up the blog on Mrs. Condor’s PC. Her normally neutral brow furrowed. “There’s still four more days,” she said.

The hope in her voice made me feel worse. And after Mindy slept over last night, and I woke up to the sound of her crying, I didn’t think that was possible.

I’d spent the morning hacking into Annborg’s stupid OMGluvUBlakeGodBlessBlakeandAmerica website, and taking down the video she posted of Mindy getting rejected by Woody. Blogger software security sucked—it had a new vulnerability detected practically every other week—so I found a vulnerability for the version Annborg used and exploited the login software to hack into the blog and remove the video. Then I changed the password, locking Annborg out so she couldn’t repost it. But it didn’t matter. Everyone at Harrison had already seen it.

I fidgeted with a tear in my skinny jeans. “My ranking dropped from four to thirty-nine in less than two days. And my cousin says once the PR tide turns, it’s nearly impossible to come back,” I said, quoting Lindsay’s somber pronouncement from the ride to school that morning.

The wood-paneled walls in Mrs. Condor’s tiny office loomed close. Even the cuckoo looked concerned with her painted-on red eyes cast down on me. “Ms. Bates says you still have a chance if you make the finals for the Most Innovative App,” Mrs. Condor said. It was weird picturing Condor and Bates having a conversation about me. Sort of like how it’s weird to imagine teachers existing in any other setting besides in the classroom, teaching you.

But Mrs. Condor was right. Public was announcing the top two hundred fifty Most Innovative Apps at three. Those would be the finalists considered for one of the two Grand Prizes. So even though my popularity ranking had slipped past the point of recovery, there was a chance Public had noticed it while it was in the Top Ten. Maybe they’d put me into the Most Innovative App finals. Maybe that could redeem me and my friends.

I sank onto the pink cushion. Mrs. Condor twirled a gold stud earring. “You really want this, don’t you?” she asked.

No one had ever flat-out asked me like that. I nodded and said, “I want to do something that makes people notice me again, and I want to go to a really good college and not have to work two jobs for three decades to pay it off.” I felt so obvious and clichéd, but it was the truth. “Everything was going so well. And then my app bombed. It hurt my best friend, and it matched the guy I like with a cheerleader.”

There it was. The first time I’d ever admitted liking Aidan out loud. To another person. And in therapy, no less. The clichés were stacking up around me like dominoes. I wanted to curl beneath Mrs. Condor’s desk and hide.

“Have you told this person how you feel?” Mrs. Condor asked.

“I told Mindy how sorry I was like a million times,” I said, feeling myself get choked up when I thought about her. The way she put an arm around my shoulders last night like I was the one who needed comfort.

Mrs. Condor’s perfectly straight blond hair brushed her shoulders as she leaned forward. “I was referring to the gentleman you like,” she said. The way she said
gentleman
in her accent made me think of Aidan taking me to a cotillion in a horse-drawn carriage.

I shook my head.

“And why’s that?”

There were a million answers to Mrs. Condor’s question. “I can’t do that,” I finally said.

Mrs. Condor was quiet. I knew she was waiting for me to say something more. But what else was there to say?

“Audrey,” she said softly. “When we’re afraid of something, it can be helpful to imagine the worst thing that could really happen. It makes whatever we’re afraid of less scary.” She uncrossed her leg. The hem of her pants caught, and exposed a tattoo on her ankle that read
l.o.v.e.
in lowercase typewriter letters. The next moment it was gone, hidden beneath Banana Republic–looking wool trousers. “What’s the worst thing that could happen if you told this friend how you felt?” she asked.

I tried to imagine saying the words to Aidan. I hadn’t even said them to my own mirror yet. “He could laugh. Or act weird.”

Mrs. Condor didn’t look convinced.

“I could lose my friends.” Did she understand how bad that would be? Did she have any idea what it was like to be completely alone? No friends, no father. “He could tell our friends that I like him, and that he doesn’t like me, which would make everything awkward.”

But when I said it out loud, it didn’t really sound like something Aidan would do.

Mrs. Condor tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear. “Sometimes taking a chance is worth it, don’t you think?”

I took a breath. It was worth everything.

At 2:52 that afternoon in the computer lab, Carrie gave Joel Norris and his tuba a dirty look. Then she sat next to Aidan. She pulled a butter-colored cashmere sweater over her head to reveal a tiny black baby-doll top that might’ve been sold in a lingerie section. I fought the urge to roll my eyes. The lab’s stuffy heat was making me sweat, too, but I wasn’t about to strip down to my Jockey sports bra. (They’re more comfortable than regular bras. So sue me.)

“The moment of truth is eight minutes away,” Nigit said dramatically. Nigit’s parents were doctors, and his lips were shiny with the medicated balm they prescribed him during the cold weather. It made him smell like a cough drop.

Bates wore a row of pearls around her neck and a gold pin on her cardigan. She’d dressed up even more than usual this week, like she was excited about the contest. It made me feel even worse for disappointing her with my fall. “No matter what happens today, I’m pleased with all of you and your creations,” Bates said, her warm brown eyes roving the lab and settling on me. My programmer classmates took over the PCs. Lab newbies lined the wall. (They finally realized their place wasn’t at our computers. There had to be at least one place in Harrison where the trogs had seniority, and the Dumpster didn’t count.) Mindy was at Creative Writing Club, but I promised I’d text her as soon as we knew the results.

“And I’m thrilled with the way you’re supporting one another,” Bates went on.

I glanced sideways at Aidan. His big hands were in his lap—nowhere near Carrie’s. And he wasn’t looking at her, either—even in her Victoria’s Secret outfit. Maybe he didn’t totally like her yet. Maybe I could take the chance before they got serious.

“It’s important to stand by my boyfriend,” Carrie announced.

Boyfriend?

Something snapped along my insides like a firecracker. It had been twenty-freaking-seven hours since the app matched them. How had this have happened? What had I done?

I didn’t want to look at Aidan—if he was smiling at Carrie, there was a chance I’d start crying. But I had to know. I turned slowly, knowing how I felt had to be written all over my face. Aidan stared back at me, but his eyes were unreadable. And he didn’t deny what Carrie said.

Carrie peered over Lindsay’s shoulder. “You can put that in your article.”

“It’s not an article,” Lindsay said. “It’s a post.” She adjusted her position on Nigit’s lap. “And I’m not interviewing you; I’m interviewing Audrey.”

Carrie’s lower lip jutted and she inched closer to Aidan. Her hair was French-braided with a maroon ribbon running through the interlocking strands. I wanted to rip it out. “I just know your app’s gonna make it, babe,” she said.

Babe?

Aidan fidgeted with his Toyota key chain. “Thanks—”

Please don’t call her babe.

“—Carrie.”

Aidan’s dark blue eyes caught mine again. “You nervous, Auds?” he asked.

Nervous, jealous, upset. So much so that I didn’t even attempt speaking. I nodded instead. I squeezed my rabbit’s foot and set it on my lap.

Lindsay’s fingers clicked across Computer #8 and copy filled the back end of her blog:

At Harrison High School, the eight tech students who submitted apps wait for Public’s official announcement. The below photo shows my favorites: Audrey McCarthy, creator of the Boyfriend App, and Nigit Gurung and Aidan Bailey, cocreators of PhilanthrApp. McCarthy, Gurung, and Bailey stand by to see if their entries have made the Most Innovative App finals. If not, they’ll have to hold out hope to win the Most Popular App category. I’d like to remind everyone that the Boyfriend App was recently on Public’s Top Ten Most Popular App list. I can tell you from personal experience, it deserves another rise in popularity. So go download now!

Lindsay scooted off Nigit’s lap and grabbed her buyPhone. “Stand together, you guys,” she said, focusing the phone’s camera.

Aidan, Nigit, and I arranged ourselves in front of Bates’s desk as she moved out of the way. “Stay in the picture, Ms. Bates,” I said. Bates flashed the smile I loved—the one that made her look like one of the older models in the J. Crew catalog. Carrie elbowed her way between Aidan and me.

“Carrie,” Lindsay said in the saccharine-sweet voice she reserved for saying whatever she wanted, “the lab’s temperature is taxing my overactive metabolism, and you’re exhausting me. Can you remove yourself from the photo of the contestants and their mentor, please?”

Carrie rolled her eyes and sashayed next to the trash bin. I prayed the fumes would make her clothes reek so Aidan would mistake it for her natural smell.

Aidan moved next to me. His hand brushed my hip, and my skin felt hot where he touched. I looked up and saw his full bottom lip. We were standing so close that if I stood on my tiptoes, I could kiss him.

“
Audrey
, give me a smile,” Lindsay said. I turned and she snapped a photo, and then we all sat back down. Lindsay uploaded the photo with her post to
FashionBecomesMe
. “I’m really proud of you guys,” she said softly. She squeezed my shoulder before snuggling next to Nigit. They exchanged a private look and I averted my eyes, feeling myself blush.

Carrie was back, squashing her butt into a too-small yellow plastic chair with Aidan. Students were clustered together in the lab, too, most having chosen to work in pairs. One girl who usually programmed her apps solo sat with her boyfriend. Some guys had girlfriends online and IM’d. Even Joel had his tuba.

I felt worse than a fifth wheel. I felt alone.

I glanced at my phone. Two minutes to go. I said a silent prayer.
Dear Dad, wherever you are. If you could just help me with this one thing. Love, Audrey.

My prayers always sounded like the Post-it notes my dad used to leave around the apartment.
Dear Audrey, if you could just vacuum your room, we’d all be thrilled. The dust bunnies aren’t paying rent. Love, Dad.
The first thing I did after his funeral was search the house from top to bottom to find any left over Post-its. I found four, which now sat in my top desk drawer next to a hot-pink heart eraser and a seashell.

I couldn’t bear to watch how Carrie was adjusting herself in Aidan’s lap. It was like she was test-driving her butt cheeks on his legs. So I settled my gaze on the wall of magazine clippings and waited. Articles like “Public Reinvents Publishing One buyBook at a Time” were posted next to “Alec Pierce Takes Public Higher,” showing a glossy photo of the Public CEO. His buzzed black hair matched his stubble. It was so thick it looked like war paint over his head and chin, like he had more hair follicles per inch of skin than the average person. Another clipping showed cartoon figures of Alec Pierce and Infinitum’s CEO, Jane Callaghan, dueling with smartphones shaped like swords, captioned:
Who phones it in best?

“I can’t really type with you sitting like that,” Aidan said in his low voice.

Carrie dismounted. My spirits lifted a little.

One more minute.

Lindsay refreshed Public’s home page. Nigit’s foot jolted and jiggled until I was sure it would fly free of his ankle. Only Aidan looked calm. “Ready?” he asked me. Then he did something that made my body catch fire. He opened his hand and linked his fingers through mine. My rabbit’s foot was pressed between our palms, but he didn’t seem to care. “Good luck,” he said, quiet enough so only I could hear. I tore my eyes from him to stare at Computer #7.

A graphic bolted in bright blue across Public’s home page.

Congratulations, TOP 250 MOST INNOVATIVE MOBILE APPS! The following contestants have secured a place in Public’s finals for Most Innovative Mobile Application. Click Here to View and Download.

I dropped Aidan’s hand. As soon as I did it, a cold feeling hit me, and I wanted to take him back. I suddenly didn’t want to see the list. I wanted to stay suspended in this moment, when I still had hope for the Boyfriend App, when Aidan’s fingers were still warm linked through mine. It was happening too fast. Nigit was scrolling rabidly over the two hundred fifty app titles and contestant names. Aidan read over Nigit’s shoulder while Lindsay scrolled on the computer next to them. I scrolled, too, so nervous I could barely see straight. Names blurred into the next. Bloodsucking Vampires, Caffein8ted, Collegiate, DivaLicious, Jock Planet, Got Breastmilk?, Light the Dark, Orientation, PhilanthrApp.