Page 6 of The Beta Test

“Is this a joke?”

Jake keeps grinning like he finds my confusion highly amusing. “Nope. I skipped a grade.”

A million more questions run through my head—like when? Why? How? And why did Jenna never mention that?—but he changes the subject before I can launch my inquisition.

He gestures towards my tablet on my lap. “Have you turned on Connection Services yet?” He leans forward and snatches the device in a flash.

“What the heck, Jake! Give that back.” I reach for it, but he swings it away from me and swipes at the screen, which I already unlocked in preparation for class.

“There,” he says, handing it back seconds later like he’s proud of himself. “Now your future awaits.”

Frustration mounts. I didn’t want Connection Services, and I certainly don’t need Jake’s antics distracting me from the most important school year of my life.

“You can’t mess with my stuff, Jake. It’s rude.” When he still looks amused, I add, “And immature. Maybe you should go back down a grade.”

The smirk drains from his face and I pivot towards the front of the class, satisfied. The teacher shushes the class and begins to explain the syllabus. With a quick swipe, the tablet locks. Connection Services is an unneeded distraction that I fully intend on ignoring.

After class, Jake walks with me to my locker but doesn’t say anything. I act like he’s not there, confused by his sudden, near-constant presence today. Since he started high school a couple of years ago, we’ve never really interacted much while on campus. Occasionally, he’d still hang out with Jenna and me at their house, but even that had been less frequent. It’s not that he’s bothering me exactly, but it’s… noticeably different.

My phone buzzes with a text. Braden!

He sent me a picture of his dorm room. It’s plain, but impeccably organized. Of course it would be—it’s Braden. For a moment, I forget Jake is right next to me, and my fingers start flying over the screen, gushing over his MIT dorm room in a reply.

“So you and Braden are still a thing, huh?” he says.

“Of course. We’re soulmates.”

“Soulmates? Wow.” It’s clear from his flat tone that he doesn’t believe me, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t need Jake’s approval. He doesn’t even have a driver’s license yet! Or does he? I guess I haven’t kept up with Jake’s life.

I tap on the picture Braden sent me and zoom in on it, taking in all the details so I can give him specific compliments in my reply. His desk has a small lamp that casts a warm glow over the surface, which is adorned with notebooks, pencils, and a laptop in neat lines. His bed is made with near military precision. The navy bedspread and coordinating pillows look clean and comfortable.

“That room looks fake.”

Confused, I look up at Jake. “What do you mean by ‘fake’? How can a room be fake?”

“You know, staged or whatever. Like the rooms you see in college catalogs or something. Like, look there,” he explains as he points with one finger. “Who keeps perfectly sharpened number two pencils lined up neatly on their desk like that?”

A frown tugs at my lips as I study the picture. “It’s probably because they take those pictures in the rooms of perfect students, and Braden is a perfect student.”

After a beat, Jake shrugs. He tugs on the end of my braid teasingly one last time, then walks away. I shake my head and turn to my locker, stuffing everything I don’t need inside and pulling out my lunch. The screen of my tablet lights up with a notification.

You have a new Connection!

Chapter Four

The locker slams closed, leaving my tablet locked inside. New connections are not needed here! It's not like I need more people in my life. There’s Braden Patel (love of my life since third grade), Jenna (best friend since kindergarten), and my family. What more do I need? Sure, Braden and I see each other way less now that he’s across the country in college, and missing him hurts. My parents are also living on different continents, which means I pick up the slack at home. But it’s fine. I have enough people in my life and don’t have time for more. Besides, it’s practically guaranteed that Connection Services is going to cause students to fail their classes left and right, not to mention blow up the already sky-high levels of drama found in a private high school. Staying out of this ridiculous beta test is the smart and mature thing to do.

Jenna’s ponytail bobs above a sea of heads near the volleyball girls. Voices ricochet off the cafeteria walls as I make my way to her table, and the smell of something expensive and delicious (maybe truffle fries?) makes my stomach grumble. The brown bag in my hand feels like a neon sign, pulsing with the message 'scholarship kid,’ like it does at the beginning of every school year. Most students here buy lunch with a premium meal plan their parents don't think twice about. Mine make decent money—Mom's an ER doctor, Dad works in film—but decent and wealthy aren't the same thing. No one mocks me over my lunches, but it's one more thing that makes me feel different from the kids here sometimes.

Braden always understood. He lived in my neighborhood, not in a mini-mansion like Jenna and Jake, and he worked hard for his scholarships. It was one of the many things we bonded over growing up. A pang of sorrow hits—Braden’s dark eyes, those lush lashes, the way they look straight through me and know. I fish my phone out of my pocket and text him, I miss your chocolate eyes, while walking over to our usual lunch table.

“Hey, girl,” Jenna chirps as I slide into the seat next to her. The table is filled with her volleyball teammates, but she always saves me a seat. Everyone’s got a school tablet out, even Jenna. That’s definitely not the norm. Those warm, premium-plan lunches aren’t even getting eaten. What a waste.

I smile in response and grab my PB & J sandwich. “Let me guess, everyone is freaking out over their new connections.”

“Av, I’ve got two connections already! I already know who one is. Amanda and I were sitting next to each other when we texted our new connections and we pinged at the same time. Isn’t that funny?” She chuckles and shakes her head. “I’m not sure who the other one is yet. Someone hot, I hope.”

Amanda and Jenna are almost always together. Amanda was sitting next to Jenna at the assembly this morning, just as she’s sitting on the other side of Jenna at the table right now. She and I are… neutral. We say ‘hi’ to each other. It’s hard to imagine it turning into anything more. The only thing we have in common is Jenna. And now even Connection Services validates their friendship as destiny, or whatever. The one thing Jenna and I have in spades is history—you can’t compete with a friendship that’s lasted for twelve years.