Page 60 of The Beta Test

80085 [Me]: Umm… why would anyone want to be known as a failure?? Do you not have goals and ambitions? Do you not want to be the best you can be?

31415: Sure, but if I fail that’s ok. Maybe it means it wasn’t the correct path for me.

So basically, this guy is a quitter. That’s what I’m getting from this conversation.

80085 [Me]: If you don’t achieve your goals, what’s the point in having any?

80085 [Me]: And anyway, not everything I’m hiding has to do with failing to meet goals. Some of it is personal.

31415: Maybe you should be a little more flexible with your goals. But let’s set that aside for now. Let’s get you back in touch with your friend.

31415: Why don’t you text her and invite her over, then have some homemade cookies ready to cut the tension. Tell her you’re sorry, that you know you’ve pulled back, then share as much of your struggles with her as you feel you can. It might not fix everything right away, but if she loves you as much as you love her, she will be open to that.

What is with everyone’s obsession with cookies? Is it possible Jake is Mr. Pi…? But no, that doesn’t make sense, does it? This guy seems way more mature than Jake. Jake is all about laughing and having a good time. Plus, it doesn’t seem like Jake would spend so much time texting me like this through Connection Services, even if he has invested a lot more time with me this year in general. No, this guy has to be a theater nerd or something—he seems to have too much emotional intelligence to be Jake.

80085 [Me]: It’s worth a shot I guess.

31415: Text her now. Then tell me when it’s done.

Wow, bossy, but fine. I pull out my phone and shoot Jenna a text, asking her if she has time to come over sometime this weekend. Within seconds she replies, promising to come over mid-morning tomorrow.

My fingers hover over my texts for a few seconds, the drive to do something kicking in. Something small, just a little experiment to set my mind at ease. I’ve had my fill of secrets and revelations today, and I can’t bear the thought of something else hitting me out of the blue. I navigate to Jake’s thread, noticing I still haven’t saved his contact, but that’s not important now.

Me: Hey, thanks again for this afternoon. Where are you right now?

I bite my lip as I wait, wondering how quickly he’ll respond. Connection Services only works on our school tablets, so unless he’s at home he’s unlikely to have his tablet with him. That’s my working theory on this ‘test,’ at least.

Unknown number: Hanging out with some buddies. Why? Wanna join?

Me: At your house?

Unknown number: No, Tommy’s.

I laugh lightly at myself, despite the unexpected swoop of disappointment I feel in my stomach. Why did I want them to be the same person? It doesn’t matter.

After picking up my tablet again, I shoot off a confirmation to Mr. Pi.

I flop back on my bed and stare into the darkness. My goals may have fallen apart, but tomorrow… I’ll fix one thing. Starting with Jenna.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The next morning when I walk downstairs I see my mom pouring herself coffee in a to-go mug, and Hunter watching cartoons in the living room. Mom is already dressed in her scrubs, ready to head in for a shift. The morning light glints off the carafe with her movements.

“Dad here?” I ask. He said he wasn’t staying the night, but there’s still a part of me that hoped he would.

She shakes her head. “He’s at his apartment, and he’ll be there all day to handle some furniture deliveries. I’m sure you’ll see him tonight or tomorrow.” She pours some cream in and gives me a weak smile. “I’m sorry for how last night went. That’s not exactly how I envisioned it going. But if you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

Talking about the situation with Dad is the last thing I feel like tackling—the conversation with Jenna is already looming over my head. I nod and push the sugar container towards her.

“Thanks for watching Hunter today—and for all the other times the past few months.” Her voice trails off before she adds, “Maybe now that Dad is back you won’t have to as much.”

“I don’t mind.”

She wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me into a side hug and leans her head down on mine. “How did I get the best daughter in all the land?”

Despite my churning emotions, my lips lift. “Pure luck, I guess.”

She releases me and grabs her bag and coffee. Her movements feel a little measured and slow—maybe all of us are feeling the weight of dinner last night.