The Boyfriend Thief

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.

And already sitting at the table was Trisha Montgomery. In Mom’s old seat, smiling like she was the queen of the house and belonged there. A couple of gifts wrapped in purple paper and tied with silver bows sat on the table in front of her.

Mother’s Day. I had forgotten what day it was.

The fury already building inside boiled over into a full-on rage.

“What is this?” I asked in a low voice, my teeth clenched tight.

“It’s our Mother’s Day dinner,” Dad announced, as if this were the most normal thing in the world. As if we had a mother in this household to honor. As if we hadn’t given up Mother’s Day dinners back when my mother left.

“Surprised?” Ian asked. “Dad and I have been planning this for a couple of weeks.”

“This is completely ridiculous,” I said.

Dad set the spaghetti down on the table and then looked at me, blinking. “We thought it would be nice—”

“To do what? To remind Ian and me that we don’t have a mother?” I gestured toward Trisha, who looked as shocked as Dad and Ian. “To invite some woman we barely know into our house and let her pretend to have a place in our family?”

It hit me suddenly what this was all about and for a moment I felt as if I’d been punched in the stomach. I took a deep breath, trying to regain control of my breathing.

“You’re not,” I said to Dad, my eyes locked on his.

The lines in Dad’s forehead creased deeper. “I’m not what?”

I pointed at Trisha. “You’re going to marry her? You barely know her! Do you think this is healthy for any of us?” I spun on my dad’s girlfriend, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I sucked air in and out. “I will never call you my mother. I won’t be a part of this Mother’s Day farce—”

“Avery,” Trisha said quietly. “This dinner isn’t for me.”

I scowled at her a moment. “Then who is it for?”

“For you.” My gaze shifted to my brother, who blinked teary eyes. His face had turned from red to purple and he wouldn’t look at me. “We did all of this for you, Avery.”

“It was Ian’s idea,” Dad said quietly. I could hear the anger and hurt in his voice.

I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

Ian reached up and ripped down the banner he’d hung, shredding it in half. “We shouldn’t have even tried. You always ruin everything.”

I stepped forward, reaching toward him. “Ian—”

But my brother pushed past, not looking at me, and raced from the kitchen. His bedroom door slammed shut a moment later.

Dad sighed. “I guess I’ll put dinner away. If anyone’s hungry, it’ll be in the refrigerator.”

“Dad,” I said as he gathered up the food.

He held up a hand to silence me. “Let’s all cool off before we say anything else we might regret.”

I glanced at Trisha, but she frowned at me and then stood to help Dad with the food. It was obvious I had hurt her feelings with what I’d said. But I couldn’t apologize. The words wouldn’t come.

I walked down the hall, intending to hide out in my room, but I stopped and stared at Ian’s closed door. The idea that he had planned this dinner for me made me even more embarrassed at my reaction.

I knocked on the door softly. “Ian? Can I come in?”

Silence met my ears.

“I’m—” I swallowed the lump in my throat. Apologizing about anything was hard for me. “I’m...sorry.”

The door remained closed.

Defeated, I headed into my own room. I kicked off my shoes, tossing them carelessly across the floor instead of putting them away in their spot in the closet. Tears blurred my vision, slipping down my cheeks before I could stop them. I laid down, crying into my pillow to muffle my sobs.