Page 29 of The Beta Test

It reads:

You + Me = Calculus?

My eyes roll. Jake seems to have designated himself as my permanent personal tutor, which I neither need nor want. Ok… that’s not strictly true. I bite my lip as I think about my current lackluster calculus grade. He was extremely helpful the day he came over to do homework together. But if I need a tutor, does it have to be Jake? True, we are friends. He made that very clear when he saved me on the side of the road, and I’m thankful for that clarification. No matter what’s happening with Braden and me, we’re still dating. Even if Braden wants to break up, I would never betray him without at least talking to him about it. And I don’t want to break up! We just need a good heart-to-heart in person, and then we can get back on track.

Jake knows about my bad grade, and he’s already helped me, so my failure is not news to him. After the Analiese debacle—and with potential social fallout—it's best to keep things under wraps. All of these things make perfect sense, so the mature thing to do is push aside any lingering weird feelings about hanging out with Jake and accept his help. My goals in life haven’t changed, so it’d be silly to not take advantage of Jake’s surprisingly good tutoring skills.

After grabbing a fresh sheet of paper, I scribble out a quick response:

Fine, but after dinner. My house. You bring snacks.

I wait until Mr. Z turns toward the board to write out a detailed Venn diagram (something about comparing art by eras… something something) and flick it in Jake’s direction. He reads it quickly and sends a response flying my way.

Fine, as I have hockey practice after school anyway. By ‘snacks,’ you mean bring myself, right? Cuz I’m a tasty snack, or so I’ve heard.

A scoff leaves my lips. Mr. Z is still writing, so I fling it back after writing a reply.

I’m not going to entertain that comment. M&M’s, cookies, and chocolate-covered pretzels are all acceptable.

Right before Mr. Z finishes the diagram and turns to face the class again, Jake sends the paper back my way.

Didn’t we just get a bunch of Halloween candy??

Because we can no longer secretly throw notes while the teacher’s looking, I hunch down in my seat behind my easel and cast Jake an exaggerated ‘So?’ by shaking my head and raising my hands. He looks puzzled, so I subtly shift my hand down to grab my phone out of my backpack. Realizing I don’t have Jake’s phone number, I send Jenna a text instead. Each line I type comes out sharper than the last.

Me: Jenna, can you tell your brother that first of all, it’s rude to throw paper at girls in class, and second of all, it’s a major faux pas to suggest girls can eat too much candy?? And last, tell him to get GOOD snacks. Not the cheap crap. I can’t write that all on a tiny paper. Thanks.

Jenna: Wait, Jake’s doing what?!

Me: He’s in my art class and being a pain.

Jenna: Girl, just kick him.

Jenna: But I’ll text him. It’s not like history is interesting.

“Miss James,” Mr. Z says sternly, “are you messaging on a device during class time?”

A denial is on the tip of my tongue, but perhaps I can spin this situation to my advantage with Principal Fisher. If there’s ever a time to turn a mess into leverage, it’s now.

“I apologize, Mr. Z. I find myself unable to resist the temptation to message during class sometimes since the Connection Services pilot program was launched.” I feign a dejected and guilty mien as I continue. Drama club has never been a personal interest of mine, but maybe I have a knack for acting. “I feel I can speak for all students here at Valley Prep when I say that our educational futures would greatly benefit from the termination of the Connection Services program, and maybe a ban on cell phone use during school hours as well. Perhaps this is something you’d like to bring up with Principal Fisher during the next staff meeting?”

Low curses ripple through the room, followed by a chorus of not-so-subtle boos. Even Mr. Z is giving me a strange look.

Dan—yes, that Dan—raises his hand. “I’d like to go on the record stating that Ava does not speak for me.”

I shoot him an irritated look. “No one asked you, Dean.”

Dan merely looks confused, clearly missing my dig at his name-amnesia once again.

There’s a round of nods and a rumble of agreeing hums in the room. A prickle of annoyance climbs my neck. At least Jake isn’t participating in this groupthink against me, though he also looks more than a little baffled. Is this really such a radical idea?

Mr. Z focuses on me with a raised brow. “Clearly you are texting on your phone, not using Connection Services on your school-issued tablet. Put it away and pay attention, or I’ll be forced to seize all your devices and turn them into the office for collection by one of your parents.”

My lips clamp closed. That’s one complication I do NOT need. My mom has been working crazy ER hours and I definitely lost some of her trust the day I ran out of gas. My dad is on a set in Australia for a couple more weeks—so he’s not exactly available to pick up my devices from the school office. Even though I want to disarm Analiese and her power over me, I don’t want to shoot myself in the foot either. Begrudgingly, I listen to the rest of the class lecture and try to manifest the end of Connection Services in my heart.

After school ends, Jake walks with me to the lockers. Again.

“What was that about?" he asks.