Page 20 of The Beta Test

He says it so softly, but with conviction. Suddenly, it all feels like too much—talking about Braden, defending my choices, having Jake look at me like he cares more than my best friend’s little brother should.

“I think we got enough done today, don’t you think? So yeah, I’ll see you at school tomorrow, Jake.”

He looks at me for a moment, then nods once, accepting my dismissal. He gives me a small smile. “See you tomorrow, Leia.”

Chapter Nine

I’m struggling to pull a swim cap over my huge bun when Coach Kim approaches me in the locker room.

“Avery! So glad I caught you before you got in the pool. I wanted to say thanks for all your help with Dan Wheeler—I heard it went great. He’s back to his normal training and swimming helped him maintain his cardiovascular fitness.”

She pauses a beat as other students walk in and say good morning. They shuffle past us and heft their bags onto the bench.

Kim continues. “Just a heads up—Analiese is joining the class. She’s rehabbing a cross-country injury. She’s been on the swim team for three years, so you don’t need to guide her like you did with Dan.”

Oh boy. I plaster a smile on my face, even though on the inside I can’t stand the idea of dealing with this, even if my participation will be minimal. The pool should be a blissfully Analiese-free zone during the fall semester. We both do swim team during the spring season, but she also does cross country in the fall semester. Is it so much to ask that my early morning swim class remain tranquil, rather than being hit with Analiese Price before the sun rises? The universe seems out to thwart my goals—first with my calculus grade and now this.

It’s all in the name of being swim captain, I remind myself, the vision board flashing behind my eyes.

“Great! I’m so glad this idea has worked out. Let me know if I can help her with anything.” The words sound forced, but Kim doesn’t seem to notice, thankfully.

My fingers cross behind my back, feeling only a teeny twinge of guilt over the fact that I absolutely do not want to help Analiese with anything. It’s highly unlikely Analiese would want anything from me anyway, so the offer is low risk.

Just then, Analiese’s smug face appears behind Kim. My stomach swoops with anxiety. My quiet morning pool time, now that Dan is gone, evaporates before my eyes.

“Avery,” she says with what seems like false congeniality, “thanks so much for making room in the pool schedule for me. As you know, our school cross country team has been number one in the league for the last ten years running and my coach appreciates the swim classes’ assistance in aiding our strongest athletes returning to full form ASAP.”

Kim’s eyes bounce between us and one eyebrow ratchets up. She appears put off by Analiese’s little speech. Her smile tightens. “We’re all on the same team here, even though the swim season hasn’t started. Analiese, lane three. Avery, you’re in lane two. Everyone good?”

We both nod our agreement, our eyes still locked on each other.

After the echo of Kim’s footsteps fades from the locker room, I turn to Analiese and practically hiss. “What are you doing here?”

She glances down at her wrapped ankle, which she lifts slightly as she leans on her crutches. “Do I really need to explain it again? I thought you were smart.”

My head tilts to the ceiling as I inhale a deep breath. My hair tumbles out of the topknot I had it in, but that’s the least of my concerns. The hair-cap struggle can wait until after I deal with my arch-nemesis.

“Did you sprain your ankle on purpose so you could come down here and torture me?”

She laughs, the noise grating against me—obnoxious, galling, loathsome. And nasally. Those are just the first things that come to mind.

I’ll never forget the amusement on her face after she burned my sixth-grade science fair project. Only someone with a dark soul could find something like that amusing. Why wouldn’t I assume she’s here to ruin my life again? It makes sense, given her track record.

“Honestly, Avery, I didn’t even know we had a fall swim class until yesterday. Those of us with a diverse skill set—which looks great on a college application by the way—wouldn’t ever think to check the class schedule for redundant offerings.” She sniffs dismissively.

“You can drop the superiority act. And my applications have plenty of diversity, thank you very much.”

She tosses her glossy, dark hair behind her shoulder and glares down at me. “Whatever. Let’s get this over with. You stay out of my way; I’ll stay out of yours.”

For the next hour, Analiese swims in the lane beside me. Her tall, lean figure cuts through the water like a blade; her flip turns are so quick and efficient that she barely makes a splash. Objectively, her form is amazing, even with a sprained ankle. I try not to let that bother me. I fail.

My own morning workout flounders. Instead of focusing on analyzing my stroke or improving my split times, my eyes keep sliding over to Analiese, wondering how her ankle isn’t holding her back. Halfway through the class, I finally catch on to how she pushes off the wall with only one foot. The way she seamlessly accomplishes that on her first day swimming with her injury rankles.

I can only hope she heals as quickly as Dan did, or ideally, even faster. The relaxed and invigorated feeling I used to enjoy in the class is wiped away, replaced by mounting tension in my neck and shoulders. This is the last thing I need!

After school, I wrangle my latest, hideous art piece into my car, flustered and frustrated that the rebellious canvas won’t slide easily into the backseat like it should. Sweat breaks out along my back from the exertion and the bright California sun. The paint from the project seems to melt; fumes invade my senses, making me nauseous. Perfect. Like I needed another reason to hate art.

Just as I crank the A/C in the car, my phone lights up with a call from Braden. Be still my heart! I knew things would smooth out.