The Boyfriend App (21 page)

Across the cafeteria, Wallflower Amanda Thompson fainted as Key Club vice president Max Laudano came at her with outstretched arms. (Thank God he caught her: I didn’t need Lindsay to tell me a fainting injury would be bad press.) Goth Girl made eye contact with a Phish Head, and moments later they were making out on the lunchroom floor. Barron Feldman’s IBS meant he ran to the bathroom whenever he was nervous, but he seemed to be holding it together, even with the hormone flood apptivated by Lindsay’s friend Princess Di. Barron unwrapped Di’s head scarf and performed some kind of scarf show by rubbing it around the small of her back before he kissed her.

The eight of us stared at the mayhem, unbelieving. HGC actually looked scared. Blake scrambled for her buyPhone.

“Put that away, Blake,” HGC said, restraining Xander with both arms.

“Not on your life, Taylor,” Blake snarled. “What’ve you done this time, Angela?” she asked as she downloaded the Boyfriend App.

Something in her voice made me shudder.

Aidan nudged me and pointed to our lunch table, where Carrie stood on a chair and pointed her phone at Gary Cary (why do parents do that?), a male cheerleader on her squad. Gary knelt to one knee. At first I thought he was proposing (which would mean she’d be Carrie Cary if they got married), but then he flipped both palms up and Carrie climbed on board. He threw her into the air, where she executed a backflip with a twist, landed expertly in his arms, and closed her eyes while he kissed her.

My mouth was open—so was Carrie’s—as I glanced at Aidan. I raised my voice so he could hear me over the chaos. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

But Aidan was smiling. He leaned in so close I could smell him: a perfect mix of fresh air and Ivory soap. “I don’t really like Carrie,” he said into my ear. “I went with it because I didn’t want to make your app look bad. But I’ve tried breaking up with her like, seven times, and she always interrupts with a story about cheerleading.” He grinned. “It turns out cheerleading
is
a nuanced sport.”

I started laughing and couldn’t stop. Aidan cracked up, too, and then we were both doubled over, clutching our stomachs, until a whistle blared. I glanced up to see the Battery in a crap-colored brown suit blowing a whistle like we were animals in a zoo.

“Harrison students!” the Battery screamed. “Sit down! Right now!”

But no one listened.

Zack Marks, the deer killer, ran by with his camouflage shirt unbuttoned to reveal his peach ballet leotard. “I’ll hunt you forever!” he said as he jumped into the waiting arms of the basketball player with stitches. They dropped to the floor and started making out.

“Audrey McCarthy started this,” HGC told the Battery.

I pressed
IT’S OVER
and deapptivated Xander—I didn’t want to get him in trouble now that the Battery was here. He slumped into a seat and looked dazed.

The Battery glared at me. “What’s going on here, Audrey?”

I straightened. “Well, you see,” I started, gesturing at the mayhem surrounding us. “I’ve created an app.”

“Cut the crap!” HGC said. I was just close enough to see his hairline hinted at premature male pattern baldness. “She’s antagonizing students,” he started. But right then Glenda (our eighty-year-old librarian’s aide) scuttled through the cafeteria and cried out, “Taylor!” Glenda was holding her buyPhone. I smelled her lilac scent as she got closer, and saw the Boyfriend App’s graphics bounce across the screen.

I held my breath. Just because Public had been targeting teens who were more susceptible didn’t mean the software wouldn’t work on adults.

Glenda pointed her phone at Hot Gym Coach.

No. Way.

HGC’s muscular forearms twitched. His eyes went wide as he watched her shuffle in her long, flowered skirt. “Glenda?” he said. Lime-colored barrettes clipped Glenda’s white hair into mini ponytails. HGC shoved aside the Battery like he was a chess piece in the way of his victory, and sprinted at Glenda. He took her wrinkled hand and pressed it against his chest. Glenda’s pointy fingernails were painted that color every old lady wears—shimmery mauve—and she dug them into his soccer jersey and said, “Yes, Taylor?” like this was all totally normal, like this was the way our gym teacher always asked about how to find a reference book.

HGC scooped Glenda into his arms and kissed her smack on the lips.

“Coach?”
the Battery said, his mouth agape.

HGC and Glenda made out as color drained from the Battery’s face. “It’s a wonderful app you’ve created, Audrey!” Glenda called over HGC’s shoulder between kisses.

Mindy was suddenly at my side, linking her arm through mine. “What did you do, Oh-drey?” she said, laughing. Her dark eyes looked lit from within. I hadn’t seen her like this since we were kids and there was no Blake making fun of her, no exasperated teachers asking her to
please repeat the sentence correctly
.

The Battery turned. “Audrey, I want you to tell me right now what—” But he stopped midsentence when he saw Charlotte Davis riding her wheelchair at us. Joel Norris was balanced on the armrests, kissing Charlotte’s collarbone. Charlotte veered left and they crashed into the Battery. The impact folded him into the wheelchair, too, and then the wheelchair sped across the lunchroom with the Battery trying to tear apart Joel and Charlotte.

“See ya later, Bawh-tery!” Mindy shouted. We were laughing as we elbowed our way back to our lunch table, until we saw Blake pointing her phone at Nigit.

“No!” I screamed.

“You’re just in time, Augusta,” Blake said to me, her tweezed eyebrows arching like accent marks. She smirked at Lindsay, Mindy, and me. “Eye for an eye, right, girls?”

Nigit’s head snapped up. His white glove shot to the ceiling and he dance-moved toward Blake.

“Nigit!” Lindsay screamed.

Blake laughed in Lindsay’s face as Nigit pawed at her. I was trying to pry Nigit’s phone from his grip, when Annborg Alsvik said, “Over here, Blake!”

Blake’s body contorted into one of her
Vogue
poses and she fixed her eyes on Annborg with a smoldering, camera-worthy stare. But Annborg wasn’t angling her phone up like she did when she took Blake’s picture. She was pointing it at her. And the Boyfriend App’s graphics were flashing across the screen.

“I love you, Blake!” Annborg screamed as she pressed a button.

Blake’s arms dropped to her sides. She took one giant lunge forward and tore Annborg’s light pink cardigan down the middle. Little pearly buttons popped from the cashmere and clacked onto the floor. Annborg started screaming, “God Bless Blake and America!” over and over. Blake ripped Annborg’s red-rimmed glasses from her face and threw them on the floor, stomping them with her heel. She clamped two hands onto Annborg’s shoulders and kissed her on the mouth.

Nigit tried to claw between Blake and Annborg, but an alarm sounded, followed by torrents of water pouring from the ceiling. Mascara ran over Lindsay’s cheeks and water beaded on her chemically-treated hair. Aidan was suddenly at my side, drenched and pulling me to safety beneath a table. Water gushed over the sides of the table like a sheet, hiding us from the surrounding turmoil. I snuggled next to Aidan. My heart pounded in my throat like I’d swallowed our little drummer boy Christmas ornament. He leaned closer and for a second I swore he was going to kiss me. But then he put his hands into my wet hair and made it spiky, laughing. “What did you
do
, Auds?” he asked, his navy eyes shining. His hands dropped to my shoulders, warming my skin. I inched closer. Could I do it?

I was impossibly nervous, way more so than making out with Xander in front of my entire school.

Aidan looked at me with wide eyes. A drop of water fell from his thick lashes. He opened his mouth like maybe he was going to say something, but then Goth Girl slid beneath our table. The sprinklers had washed makeup from her face and she was barely recognizable except for her dog collar. Aidan made room for her to hide with us as water puddled in the plastic seats and slicked the floors.

Whoever had activated the sprinkler system was soaking the lunchroom, soaking the students, soaking the buyPhones . . .

Deactivating the Boyfriend App.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

.....................................................................

chapter twenty-four

“
S
ugar you’re the one, our life is fun, in the sun, come on let’s run . . . away!”

Claire’s tiny fingers interlocked with mine. My jade polished nails mixed with her red ones like Christmas M&Ms.

“
Do you wonder, how it will be, girl, when the lights are off and it’s just you and me . . .”

Danny Beaton’s lyrics reverberated through the speakers until my body felt like it was being attacked with music and sound. I could just make out the dyed blond tips of his brown fauxhawk over the warm bodies that danced and jostled us. I saw a similar hairdo at the back of the stage, and when we got closer I saw it was a lion, not really doing anything, just sitting in a cage and licking its paws. Light on the back wall of the stage gave the effect of a rainstorm, and illuminated two bodies grinding behind a curtain, like shadows making out. Lindsay and I rolled our eyes at each other above Claire’s head when unicyclists sped across the stage juggling My Little Ponies with their tails on fire.

“It’s devastating not documenting tonight for my readers,” Lindsay shouted over the music, looking up at the giant TV screens above the stage. In some multimillion-dollar partnership, Danny Beaton’s concert was being broadcast live on YouTube. “Poor Loulou de la Falaise. When I think of how she’s coping with the water damage . . . even if she does dry out, will she be the same?”

I checked my phone (I’d stuffed it into the quality water-resistant fabric of my Jockey sports bra, so it made it through the sprinklers unharmed.) Twenty-three minutes until the winners would be announced.

The Battery had called off the Public app contest for Harrison students after the BFA 2.0 debacle in the lunchroom. Nigit tried to argue I was the only one who should be disqualified. (Thanks, Nigit!) But rational thought (the very thing Public tried to strip from us with their software) dictated there was no way the Battery could forbid us to compete in a nationwide competition that wasn’t even dependent on being enrolled in high school.

“It’s you and me . . . together we will be . . . .never apart . . . one heart . . . one soul . . .”

I handed over my phone so Lindsay could update her blog. We’d spent the three and a half–hour car ride with Lindsay dictating Twitter and
FBM
updates for the Boyfriend App, and recounting the G-rated version of today’s events to Claire, who’d already heard murmurings among her elementary-school friends with older siblings. We’d rabidly checked my standing on Public’s website during the ride, too. My numbers were climbing, but I was still in the thousands, not even close to getting into the Top Ten—let alone the number one spot.

“Danny!” Claire screamed as we neared our front-row seats. She practically panted at the sight of him. A uniformed usher shined a light down our row and I caught Blake’s dark figure silhouetted. Her low-cut V-neck top showed off a black sequined bra. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail that started near the crown of her head, and made her look like Cleopatra.

Claire stopped short. “You said she wasn’t going to be here,” she said to Lindsay, her voice terrified.

“What?” Lindsay called over the music.

“
I said our life is fun and when we run . . . away! We’ll be together, forever . . .”

Danny Beaton’s red-and-white striped shirt hung loose over tight-fitting jeans tucked into high-top sneakers with flashing lights. He gyrated across the stage as backup dancers in black bodysuits clawed at his legs. The lion took a dump in its cage.

Claire’s palms were suddenly wet against mine. She tried to push back the way we came and it took both Lindsay and me to restrain her sixty pounds of fury. “She’s here!” Claire screamed, pointing down our row. Her body was a live wire twitching against our grip. Lindsay and I exchanged a glance.
Joelle Martin,
Lindsay mouthed.

Lindsay smoothed a hand over Claire’s light hair. We’d spent an hour braiding it just right—two French braids that crossed her head and wound into a bun in the back with little wisps sticking out: exactly like the picture she’d ripped from
Teen Vogue
.

I glanced down our row. Just beyond Blake, Joanna and Jolene hoisted Joelle up to get a better look at Danny Beaton. Joelle’s honey-blond hair matched her sisters’—as did the hostile look on her face when she turned and locked eyes with Claire, and then mouthed,
Freak
.

Claire buried her head against me.

“Forever we’ll be together, forever in any weather, forever isn’t far away!”

Forever
was
far away by definition—but who was I to argue with Danny Beaton? I crouched until I was Claire’s height. “I have an idea,” I told her. “Do you trust me?”

I stretched out my hand and she took it.

Nerves flooded me as we maneuvered through the darkness to our seats. Maybe the Boyfriend App was meant for this one thing—this one night where Lindsay, Claire, and I could make something amazing happen—
a chance at something big,
Lindsay had said that night at Madame Bernese’s.

I glanced at Claire’s wide green eyes—the ones that matched Lindsay’s, the ones that matched mine. Lindsay and Claire were my family. They mattered way more than any contest or scholarship. If the Boyfriend App could give Claire one big—
huge
—night, then it was worth it.

“We’re going to shine our light . . . .we’re going to shine what’s inside . . .”

Darkness fell as Danny Beaton sang the opening verse to his hit song. The audience went wild as a single spotlight bathed him in violet-colored light.