Page 17 of The Beta Test

Candy girl. Is Mom still Dad’s candy girl? My hand settles on her shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. No words come, so the gesture has to do the talking.

She quickly swipes the app closed and shrugs. Whatever she’s trying to hide still leaks through—there’s a slight quiver in her voice. “I’m glad his career is everything he ever wanted. Anyway,” she clears her throat, “I hope your study session goes well, Avery.”

After placing her bowl in the dishwasher, she gives me a tight smile and joins Hunter in the living room.

As I finish arranging the snack plate and grab a couple water bottles from the fridge, I can’t keep my mind off my parents. They do love each other—an annoying amount, actually. When they’re together, they’re amazing: loving, fun, fully there. But what are two people supposed to do when their careers pull them in opposite directions? What happens when one person gives up their goals and pretends it’s fine, until the bitterness stacks up year after year and finally bursts like a dam?

Digging into the details of their relationship isn’t my job, but the logic of their current choices makes sense. Let things breathe. Focus on their own careers. Don’t let resentment build. Maybe their love survives if neither of them forces the other to sacrifice too much. But Hunter and I don’t get that option. Dad’s absence is hard, especially for him.

The doorbell yanks me out of it. Jake’s here.

Chapter Eight

Footsteps pound down the hallway as I fly to the front door. Before opening it, I tug my shirt down to smooth any wrinkles and wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans. I twist the knob, and the door cracks open with a soft hiss, letting in a breath of crisp air that smells like leaves. Infectious dimples and bright blue eyes greet me.

“Hey, Jake.”

His eyes travel over my face and head. “Nice hair. Is this practice for Halloween or something?”

A hand goes to my braided crown before I can stop it. What in the world does that mean? He doesn’t think it looks good? A flush of embarrassment rises, but I ignore it. I’m the older one here. Why should I be embarrassed? It’s only a study session.

Clearing my throat, I step aside to let him in. “Are you jealous that my braiding skills have now surpassed your own?”

Jake chuckles. “Maybe I am. I wouldn’t mind practicing on your hair again, though I’m not sure how you managed to have it wrap around your head like that. I’d be totally lost.”

We’re still in the foyer, and his height hits me all at once. He’s so tall now! I’ve noticed that before, of course, but it feels different because this is the first time he’s been to my house in forever.

He’s looking down at me with affection, and he lifts a hand to run it lightly over my styled hair. He's just curious about the braid. That's all.

“It reminds me of Princess Leia. I thought maybe that’s who you were going to be for Halloween.”

Jake’s comment kicks up a memory of little Jake, fresh off a Star Wars trivia book, rattling off fact after fact about the franchise until it drove me crazy. Annoying or not, Princess Leia is amazing, so his reference is definitely a compliment.

“Still a Star Wars super fan?”

Now it’s Jake’s turn to blush. “Hey, I stopped quoting trivia at you when you asked me to. You know, when you yelled at me.”

“You weren’t going to stop.” A beat. “I haven’t thought about a costume this year, which I know is unlike me. I usually coordinate with Braden, but he’s not here.”

Jake’s expression drops. “Ah, right. How’s Braden doing these days?”

I open my mouth to answer, then freeze. My relationship with Braden has put me in a difficult spot. I don’t want to lie and say everything is amazing, but the truth sounds unnecessarily dire too. The truth is I don’t know much about Braden’s life lately—not the real details. I get a few scraps of him a couple times a week, if I’m lucky. We haven’t talked on the phone in over a week, and even when I catch him, the call ends fast because of class, a meeting, or somewhere he has to be. Explaining all of that feels like too much, and besides, it’s temporary. Christmas is coming, and he’ll be home. He’ll have time to slow down because school will be over for the semester. We’ll drink hot cocoa and exchange gifts—it’ll be perfect.

My mom walks into view, saving me from having to conjure an answer to what should have been an easy question.

“Hi, Jake,” she says with a genuine smile, though her eyes look tired. Maybe even a little puffy. “Are you excited for the hockey season to start soon?”

“Hey, Mrs. James. And yes, very excited. The schedule can be intense, but I love it.”

“That’s great.” She glances between Jake and me. When Jake takes a moment to look at his phone, she looks at me and winks. Winks! “Anyway, I’ll let you guys get busy with that homework. I just wanted to say hi.”

“Good to see you, Mrs. James.”

She pads out of the room, and I grab Jake’s arm to drag him up the stairs. Mom clearly thinks there’s more to this than studying, but she’s getting ideas and I need to shut them down STAT. Braden is my everything. We’re simply in the middle of an adjustment.

We make our way down the hall, and Jake slides his backpack off his shoulder, placing it on the carpet near my desk once we reach my room. After grabbing my calculus book, some paper, and a pencil, I plop onto my bed and start flipping through the pages. Jake’s still by my desk when I look up, bent over my vision board with a picture in one hand. He seems engrossed by whatever he’s looking at.

Wow, Jake Taylor is in my room. It’s… strange. Braden’s been in here a thousand times, but I can’t remember the last time Jake was at my house, let alone in my room. Probably not since a game of hide-and-seek during a playdate with Jenna. Why is it weird? Am I making it weird? Not that it matters—we’re doing homework, like I would with any classmate.