Page 19 of The Beta Test

80085 [Me]: Ok. But what about if, for example, movie preferences strongly clashed, despite both people being capable of breathing. Like to the point where they could never find a movie to watch together. Does that negate the compatibility?

31415: No. As a matter of fact, that same white paper cited ANOTHER white paper on how breathing habits are inextricably linked to specific movie preferences. Details about this link are not important. So you see, they go hand-in-hand and cannot negate one another.

80085 [Me]: Fascinating. And nonsense.

31415: Indeed. So, out of curiosity and totally not related to this conversation, what is your *favorite* movie?

At this point I’m laughing out loud.

80085 [Me]: Depends on the situation. If I’m ragey, I prefer something with action like The Matrix. If I’m sad or need a pick-me-up, a romcom like Sweet Home Alabama. Either way, if I’m watching a movie, popcorn is a must. Shocking, I know.

31415: Ah. Clearly I’m dealing with a movie + snack connoisseur. Tell me, have you ever tried combining popcorn with chocolate?

80085 [Me]: No?

31415: One of these days we are going to have to get together and perform some popcorn research together. Strictly professional, of course. Perhaps for our own white paper.

The thought of popcorn makes my stomach rumble—Jake better bring that plate back soon. Since I’m in the Connection Services app, I quickly check for messages from my other connection.

55378 (?): Did you hear about the fight in the hallway today? I knew this beta test was going to be a disaster.

80085 [Me]: I actually saw it! It’s like everyone heard “anonymous” and assumed it meant “consequence-free”…

55378 (?): Rule #1 should be ‘don’t exchange names’ if you want to avoid drama.

80085 [Me]: Definitely. If only people would listen to us reasonable people…

Jake’s steps sound in the hallway, his broad frame entering my room seconds later with the plate in hand and water bottles tucked under his arm.

I quickly place my tablet back on my desk, but I must still be smiling like a crazy person because he clocks it immediately.

Jake grins at me. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh,” I say as I wave my hand dismissively at my desk, “just chatting with someone.”

Jake moves into the room and places the plate at the end of my bed. He perches on the side with a mischievous look on his face. “Oh? Someone you… like?”

That wipes the residual amusement off my face. “What do you mean ‘like’? Like like? I’m with Braden! It’s only a friend. Don’t be ridiculous.”

Jake shrugs. “Things change sometimes. Even when you don’t want them to.”

“Braden and I won’t ever change,” I insist stubbornly. “We have a plan in place to prevent that very thing from happening.” My hand sweeps subconsciously towards the vision board.

Jake's eyes follow my hand’s movement thoughtfully. “And has Braden stuck to the plan since he’s been gone?”

Although I’m sure he doesn’t mean it that way, the question feels like a stab to my gut because the answer is… no. Braden has not stuck with the plan. At all. I feel the sting of tears behind my eyes but swallow them down forcefully.

“There’s been a few bumps here and there, but that’s to be expected when things are long distance and he’s in college. Plus, there’s a time difference.”

Jake nods slowly like he’s listening but thoroughly unconvinced by my arguments. Honestly, I’m not either. The hollowness rings loud and clear. But this is Braden, my soulmate. The boy who grew up in the house behind mine, who gave me my first kiss, who promised me forever, who told me he loved me. Our plan was ironclad, foolproof, practically signed in blood. But… does Braden feel the same way? That thought keeps circling, relentless.

I'm irked by the fact that Jake isn't buying my explanations. A small, logical voice somewhere in my psyche suggests that’s not fair, but my emotions are winning.

“And anyway, why do I need to tell you about any of this? It’s not your business, Jake Taylor.”

He grabs two crackers and sandwiches a slice of cheese between them, then hands it to me. My heart softens. I remember having conversations with Jake years ago about the perfect cheese to cracker ratio during a sleepover at their house, and he clearly remembers my stance on the topic. A vivid memory surfaces: tiny Jake, with a shy dimply smile, handing me a cracker sandwich with a stack of cheese inside. Here you go, Avery. I’d looked at the offering and corrected him. Jake, no one wants that much cheese! The cheese is a garnish. The main event is the salty cracker. He’d dutifully emptied it until only one piece remained.

“You’re right. It’s not my business. But I think you deserve the very best of everything.”