Free Boy Swap by Kristina Springer Page A

scarf.
    “No, no, not me,” she says shaking her head. “But I’ve heard all about it from my older sister Marissa. She graduated last year but she was in the Boy Swap Club when she was a senior. She complained about Cassie constantly.”
    “Really?” My attention is completely captured.
    “Yup. As soon as I saw your scarf last week, I knew they got you too.”
    “Yeah,” I admit, fully knowing that I technically shouldn’t be talking to Rayne about the BSC like this.
    “I think it’s hysterical that you’re going after Carter. Cassie so deserves it. I’ll tell you whatever I know about him. If I can help in any way, just let me know.”
    “Thanks.” I never thought I’d feel a connection develop with Rayne, but now I’m actually kind of liking her.
    Rayne gives me a bunch of information about Carter and I write it down on a notepad next to the Hodges’s phone. It includes things like his favorite pizza (pineapple and pepperoni from Lou’s Pizzeria), his truck (a 2002 red Ford Bronco), and his e-mail address ([email protected]). Who knew the band party would turn out to be so informative? I rip the paper off the notepad, fold it, and stick it in my back pocket for some follow-up research this weekend.
     

Chapter 12: I Heart Google
    I spent the first part of my Saturday accomplishing STEP 1 of my plan. It started with a bus trip to the Promenade, where I got a new haircut and highlights (which the stylist swore made my face look thinner) and an eyebrow waxing at the Mario Tricoci Salon. The waxing included a fifteen minute neck massage that was absolutely fabulous. I didn’t realize how stressed I’d become with all of this Cassie and Chris stuff. Next, I stopped at Neiman Marcus where I bought the Turbolifter 3000 in black lace. It is guaranteed to increase your bust by at least two cup sizes or your money back. And with all of this new found cleavage, I had to buy a sexy low-cut black wrap top to show off the girls. My last purchase was the BUTTZ—the most amazing invention on earth. My butt and thighs look so good in them that I could totally go out in a pair of skinny jeans and actually look, well, skinny. I blew through all of my babysitting savings but it was worth it. I look hot. My plan is to have Carter Jones drooling like a one-year old cutting teeth by the end of next week.
    I have a date with Chris (who will NOT be privy to the Turbolifter 3000 or BUTTZ) tonight. Luckily it’s a group thing with a bunch of people from band. I even heard Lizzie invite Jacob last night after they sucked face for half the party. Our group date isn’t for another three hours, though, so I have plenty of time to get a start on Step 2 of my plan: researching Carter Jones.
    I take a seat at my computer in my room and launch a Web browser. I bring up Google and start entering search phrases.
“Carter Jones”
    Ick. It gives me about a gazillion hits. Apparently Carter Jones isn’t such a unique name. Let’s narrow it down a bit.
“Carter Jones” Rosehill, Illinois
    I get two pages of hits. I browse through the various links but they all seem to contain the same information. Wrestling stats. Yawn. This isn’t going to help me very much. Although, I should know something about his wrestling matches. Just in case it comes up in conversation on our date. I read through a few articles about him from different sources, mostly the town online newspaper.
    “Carter Jones has three pins…Carter Jones is now at ten pins…Carter Jones has the most pins out of every wrestler on the Rosehill High Varsity wrestling team…”
    Yay for him, I guess. Strange what one finds newsworthy. What is he going to do with all of these pins anyway? Sew a shirt? Hem some pants? Ugh. This isn’t helping me at all.
    I return to the search page to see if there is anything I missed. Score! Carter has a Facebook page. I click on the link, hoping for some good info on him. Oh, annoying. He’s one of those people who have like a