Page 46 of The Beta Test

Frustrated, I open my text thread with Braden. Being the perfect, uncomplicated, and always-cheerful girlfriend feels like a role I can no longer play without some answers. He never sticks to our schedule, he seems to ghost me on a regular basis, and he randomly changed his Thanksgiving plans without telling me! It’s too much. Too. Much.

Me: Who is Tricia?

Bubbles pop up and dance on my screen, then disappear. I stare, willing him to respond. Minutes pass. Nothing.

Disgusted, I toss my phone on my bed, then flop down beside it. I gaze at the ceiling. The textured plaster swirls start forming shapes if I stare long enough—a lopsided bird here, something that might be a face there. My eyes catch on the water stain in the corner that formed the last time we had abnormally high rainfall. Is it raining in Boston? Has it snowed yet? Does Braden care about us at all anymore?

A ping from my school tablet breaks my thoughts. The screen glows with a message. Even though I’m tired and my body feels like it weighs roughly a thousand pounds, I roll onto my side and snatch it off the desk.

31415: Happy Thanksgiving! I hope you had some delicious Pi.

Despite my soul being in roughly a thousand pieces right now, a smile sneaks through.

80085 [Me]: Actually… there was neither pi nor pie today.

31415: Blasphemy! Not even pumpkin pie?

80085 [Me]: Nah.

31415: …dessert of any kind?

80085 [Me]: Ice cream. No one felt up for making anything extra after making Thanksgiving dinner.

What I don’t say: the cloud of my dad’s absence is hanging over our house like an omen of worse things to come, sucking our holiday joy from our bodies. I normally would love to help my mom—whether it's the obligatory pumpkin pie or something more fun like oreo chocolate pie. But with everything else going on, not even I could muster the oomph to get it done. Thankfully, Hunter was just as pleased by some Ben & Jerry’s.

31415: That doesn’t seem like you.

31415: I mean, dessert seems important to you.

80085 [Me]: You’re making it sound like dessert is one of my core personality traits. I’m trying to decide if I should be offended…

31415: There are worse traits in the world. But what I mean is that you seem like the person who has holiday spirit and would have holiday traditions. Like pie.

80085 [Me]: Well. You’re not wrong.

I hesitate a moment, then decide… I just don’t care. I’m tired of holding everything in!

80085 [Me]: This year hasn’t been the same, so holding to those traditions feels less important. My dad is away for work and was supposed to be home for Thanksgiving, but he canceled at the last minute. Another person close to me was supposed to visit and they canceled too. It just feels like… is there something wrong with me?

31415: There is.

80085 [Me]: Excuse me?

31415: Your taste in M&Ms is bland and safe.

31415: But other than that… no, there’s nothing wrong with you.

31415: I think.

I hold my tablet at a distance and squint at the screen. Is this guy for real? Is he trying to be helpful or insulting? It’s honestly a little hard to tell. Another message pings before I can decide.

31415: But in all seriousness, I’m sorry your holiday isn’t going well. I’d bring you five pies and 10 bags of plain M&Ms if you’d let me.

80085 [Me]: Thanks.

Not sure what to say and already feeling like I shared too much, I lock the screen and place it back on my desk. Tim the Beaver’s beady eyes seem to follow me.

Tomorrow will be better. I won’t spiral. I won’t.