Page 22 of The Beta Test

Roughly ten feet into my walk, a blue F-150 pulls in front of me. Jake’s tall form emerges from the driver’s side, already amused as he takes in the scene. Instead of waiting for him to mock my predicament, I go on the offensive.

“Aren’t you a little young to be driving without adult supervision, Jake?”

Jake’s dimples seem to reflect the sunshine as he strolls closer. “Aren’t you a little old to run out of gas while driving?”

I sniff indignantly. “Who said I ran out of gas?”

“So you’re walking away from your car on the side of the road because of another reason? Did your carriage turn back into a pumpkin, Cinderella?”

I open my mouth to let him know it’s merely because the weather is stunning and I feel like taking a constitutional, then snap it closed again. Jake’s appearance is the answer to my problem and it’s best to focus on the big picture. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you, or something like that.

“Actually,” I pivot quickly, “Did I ever tell you you’re my favorite little brother of my favorite best friend? Also, can I get a ride?”

His eyebrows scrunch adorably together in confusion, but he plays along. “That’s why I pulled over…”

“Great,” I say as I immediately charge over to the passenger side of his truck and hop in. “We need to get Hunter from his school.”

“Doesn’t he take the bus?” Jake asks after he climbs in seconds later and starts the engine.

I sigh deeply, annoyed that things keep going badly and I’m forced to explain my failings to people. Is it so much to ask that everything goes smoothly forever and always? Apparently so.

I wave my hand over my shoulder. “You saw my car situation. If no one is home when the bus comes, they take him back to the school and wait for someone to pick him up. So… let’s go. Put that brand new driver’s license to work.”

Jake looks at me for a few seconds, but doesn’t comment again as he puts the truck in drive and navigates us toward the local elementary school. It’s not until we’re nearly there that it strikes me as odd that Jake was even driving on the road I stalled out on, as it’s in the opposite direction of the Taylors’ house. I eye him suspiciously.

“Jake?”

“Hmm?”

“Where were you going when you saw my car?”

“Your house.”

“Why?”

“To see if you and Hunter wanted to go trick-or-treating with me.”

“Halloween is tomorrow.”

“I know.”

“You were driving over to my house to see if I wanted to go trick-or-treating tomorrow?”

I’m staring at Jake’s profile as he pulls into the school’s driveway, completely bewildered. “What is going on with you lately?”

Jake shifts the truck into park and turns his body slightly so he’s facing me. I know I should rush into the school to collect Hunter, but this weirdness with Jake has gone on long enough.

“What is going on, Jake? I feel like you’re everywhere I go lately, and now you’re randomly stopping by my house? You could text me like a normal person. I’m not trying to be rude—I’m trying to understand what you want lately. We usually hang out at your house if we're both there.”

He stares, not answering. I roll my hand toward him to gesture well? But he continues to remain silent. Eventually he seems to realize I’m looking for some type of response.

“Sorry, can you repeat the question?” he asks. “I was just thinking about how Avery James is sitting in my truck, and I got distracted.”

I breathe in and close my eyes for a second to center myself. “What do you want from me, Jake?”

“Oh,” he says as he smiles and shrugs good-naturedly. “I want to be your friend. Plus, I don’t have your phone number.”

My eyes roam his features, gauging his sincerity. His clear-blue eyes look guileless and honest. Nothing in his body language or expression indicates there’s any ulterior motive lurking beneath his friendly demeanor. His hair flops adorably on his forehead and his fingers drum against his jean-clad thigh as he awaits my verdict on his claim.