The Boyfriend Thief - By Shana Norris Page 0,2

to make, thinking he was funny. Who knew what went on between him and Tara when no one was around. I had tried to tell Molly this, but she always said Elliott was friendly and outgoing and she didn’t care if he talked to girls.

It wasn’t like I’d actually seen Elliott do anything with Tara other than talk, as Molly constantly reminded me. But they talked a lot. More than he talked to anyone else. From what I’d seen of the secrets and lies within the halls of Willowbrook High, guys and girls could not be “just friends.” There was always something going on behind the scenes.

I cleared my throat a little too loud and Elliott and Tara both looked my way.

“Well, if it isn’t Avery James, resident hot dog,” Elliott said, giving me that stupid grin of his. “Doing all right over there?”

“Fine,” I said. “And you?” I looked pointedly at him, then Tara, and then him again.

“Great.” Elliott grinned wider and then went back to preparing hot dogs.

The Diggity Dog House office door opened and Mr. Throckmorton appeared, looking disheveled as always. Every day, he arrived at the diner before noon looking nicely pressed. But within a couple of hours his hair stuck out all over his head and his clothes were stained and wrinkled. Apparently, running a hot dog diner was incredibly stressful.

“James!” he barked when he saw me. “Am I paying you to sit around?”

“I’m on a break,” I said.

“That’s no excuse. Get outside when your break is over.”

I saluted him. “Yes, sir!”

“And don’t get sassy with me,” Mr. Throckmorton said before marching toward the door leading to the counter area.

According to Mr. Throckmorton, no matter what I said, I was “getting sassy” with him. I was beginning to think he had a predisposed prejudice against sixteen-year-old girls with red hair. Or maybe just sixteen-year-old girls with red hair who always grumbled about having to shuffle and wear hot dogs across their foreheads.

“Better get back out there, Avery,” Elliott told me. “Your boyfriend is waiting.” He nodded toward the crumpled costume on the floor.

Tara apparently found his stupid joke hilarious.

Think about the money, I reminded myself. One thousand sixty-four dollars and thirteen cents and six weeks left to go.

If it weren’t for the money, I would never put up with this job and Elliott. But unfortunately, Diggity Dog House, in addition to being the most embarrassing place to work, was also the best paying in town. Mr. Throckmorton basically had to pay us a little more than the other restaurants to get employees willing to make idiots of themselves on a daily basis.

So I publicly humiliated myself once again. The next couple of hours outside passed slowly, and then once the sun had set, I came inside to wander around the dining room and greet people while they ate. Frankly, I’d be a little annoyed by a six-foot wiener interrupting me while I ate my dinner, but the customers at Diggity Dog House loved Bob. They all grinned wide and waved me over to their tables. A little old woman whose head barely reached my armpit had her husband take a picture of her with me.

Finally, it was ten and the last customer had been literally pushed out the door by Mr. Throckmorton. He had a strict closing time policy because he liked to be at home in his pajamas and watching reruns of The Facts of Life at exactly eleven.

The foam hot dog peeled from my sweat soaked skin as I shook it off. I tried a different deodorant each week to see if anything was strong enough to stand up to Bob’s inner core, but so far no luck. At the end of the night I always smelled. It was like a science experiment: Which Brand of Deodorant Can Withstand the Giant Hot Dog? Normally, I loved science experiments, but this one was a little too much to stand.

The money, I reminded myself again as I wiped my forehead with a wad of napkins. I needed the money.

I headed toward the kitchen, bumping the door open with my hip since my arms were full of crushed foam. Elliott and Tara were alone in the kitchen and they jumped back away from each other when I entered. Tara busied herself with wiping down the stove while Elliott gave me a smirk.

“Taking your boyfriend home for the night?” he asked me.

I narrowed my eyes as my gaze flicked between the two of them. Elliott looked unconcerned