Beamen was given as clear a path as ever to Courtney's cubicle, limited foot-traffic due to everyone at lunch, Courtney's clumsy habit of forgetting things at her desk like her phone, opportunities he didn't get very often.
Around her part of the floor, he did a casual walk-by, to make sure the surrounding cubicles were vacant. The coast was surely clear, he got her phone and worked quickly.
For weeks, he'd been convinced that she was hacking into his files, taking credit for his ideas, somehow. He had IT skills too, but none of them helped him figure out how she was getting at his work. Wasn't safe to make any accusations without proof, so now he had to directly hack into her things. He started with her phone, and simultaneously did a check of her computer, running a custom program to check for any known markers of hacking software she would be using.
While that test ran, he got past her phone's security and began perusing documents, downloaded files and lines of communication. He found something strange very quickly, some kind of typo in the auto-correct.
"relaxomg"
It was literally the first thing that came up.
He didn't know how many consecutive uses it took to make something like that stick, but it was there.
He wondered for brief seconds how you'd get a typo like that. Was it meant to be like relaxing, with the "o" key next to the "i," and the "m" key next to the "n". Courtney despite being smart definitely had a ditzy veneer to her, like she was plucked right out of a high school stuck-up fashion clique and into the working world, so "omg" was definitely a part of her vocabulary.
"Relax, oh my god!" He could easily imagine her saying to her co-workers; it sickened him how hearing her say that could pass for a turn on for him.
The check on her computer showed no signs of any hacking software present, which was stranger as he figured with their secure intranet her computer was the only way to get to his.
Something beyond strange, in the realm of impossible to Beamen, came up in one of the social programs listed, seeing what looked like a profile of his.
"When the hell did we ever communicate?"
He skimmed through the messages seeing basic responses from him in recent messages, lots of typos the further he went back by weeks, all the while Courtney's messages had lots of that weird typo "relaxomg" followed by something else, and every something he would agree to. Even as a joke, or especially if it were a joke, Beamen would have some memory of it. He checked his own phone quickly, realizing lunch was almost over and people would be coming back. To his ever confused horror, he found the exact same messages in a messenger app he all but ignored on his phone.
Reading both phones filled him with anger that didn't let him believe what is eyes saw was real. That anger the more he read, the more he read of her texts, started to feel like champagne bubbles eroding his negative thoughts; some of this thoughts in-general started to pop like bubbles, expending endorphins as it did. He started to feel a buzz come on that he fought, like the last time he drank more champagne than he meant to. He felt like he was on his first glass now, but reading unsubstantiated messages seemed to only make it worse.
Suddenly both his and her phone went off at the same time, showing a new entry in the messenger app.
CBaby: relaxomg - respond
RBeamen: sub4Courtney
A potent buzz hit him as half the thoughts in his head burst into endorphins that made him want to grin thoughtlessly and giggle stupidly. The resistance he put up didn't feel right, nor did thinking about why "sub4Courntey" was an auto reply in his phone after automatically typing "sub"
CBaby: Good. what are u doing?
It was hard for Beamen to detail exactly what he was doing given the shortage of thoughts, but pushing to elaborate for Courtney seemed necessary, so he did. It took a good minute before he got a response back.
CBaby: relaxomg - go bck to ur desk NOW.
