Page 32 of The Beta Test

Me: Good. Can’t wait until college though.

Braden: How’s Calculus going? I miss doing homework with you.

The smile that overtakes my face is irresistible. Jake was right—Braden must’ve seen Jake’s post, and it must’ve dragged him back to all those years of homework and late nights. Why else would he go on to ask if I’m studying with anyone else? Maybe it was petty, but I avoided the question last night by saying I had to go take care of something. It felt good to let him stew in insecurity for a while. He deserves a taste of his own medicine. Braden can be amazing; sometimes he needs my help remembering that. That’s what good partners do.

My thoughts are interrupted by my least favorite voice in the entire universe.

“What are you smiling about?”

Reluctantly, I drag my eyes up from my phone and take in Analiese’s tired appearance. She doesn’t usually look quite so disheveled. This morning her hair looks like it hasn’t seen a brush in days and her eyes look slightly puffy like she rolled out of bed five minutes ago. I wonder if there’s something wrong with her, but dismiss the thought quickly. There are enough problems on my plate.

“Texts from Braden,” I declare triumphantly. Not too obnoxious, just enough flair to make a point. A nice, neat little told-you-so that cancels out everything she said about Braden and me.

She has the audacity to roll her eyes in disbelief. “Yeah, sure,” she returns in a flat tone.

The victory high from Braden’s texts dissolves into a slow, boiling fury. Analiese has a talent for dragging the worst out of me—probably because I’m desperate to shut down her theory that I’m her connection with the MIA boyfriend before she turns it into school-wide gossip. And also because I refuse to let Analiese have power over me. In any form. Ever.

“See for yourself. We have a call scheduled tonight.”

I lift my phone towards her so she can see the last couple of messages in the text thread. Her eyes only briefly flit to the screen, then she turns to put her things in a locker and get out her swim gear. She no longer uses the crutches but is still resting her ankle for another week before resuming her usual training on the track team. I can’t wait.

“You don’t have to prove anything to me, Avery. I couldn’t care less about your relationship with Braden.”

A scoff bursts out. “You once cared so much you tried to burn down an entire building!”

Analiese slams her lock closed and squares her shoulders in my direction. Honestly, it’s a little intimidating. Her dark eyes bore into me, suddenly looking much sharper than they did a moment ago.

“That had nothing to do with you and Braden. You have no idea what’s going on in anyone else’s life because you’re always so focused on yourself! Other people have real problems.”

“Obviously, I know people have problems. I’m not stupid, despite what you seem to think.”

“You’re selfish, not stupid. There’s a difference.”

“Ugh! You’re so aggravating. What legitimate reason could you have possibly had to burn my science fair project?!”

Instead of answering, Analiese rolls her eyes once again, snaps her jaw shut, and turns away to grab her swimsuit. It’s clear that she has zero intention to answer. None. Normally, I’d let this kind of thing go because it’s not worth the conflict and stress, but there’s no way I can walk away from this topic. If she didn't burn my science fair project over Braden, I feel I deserve an explanation!

“I refuse to start swim class until you answer my question, Analiese. I’ll find a way to delay it. I’ll even puke in the pool if I have to! I deserve to know why you burned my project! You have no idea how many hours I put into it.”

Analiese sighs deeply, like the burdens of the world are resting solely on her. She turns to me, and instead of anger in her eyes, I see… sadness. It’s so unexpected that my eyes flick around the locker room, like someone else must’ve walked in and flipped a switch. Have I ever seen Analiese look sad? If I’m being generous, the nicest word I can come up with for her is ‘focused’—maybe ‘studious,’ if I’m in a really good mood.

“Fine. I’ll burst your selfish bubble. If that’s possible.”

She pauses to take a deep breath. “While you were toiling happily on your science fair project, my life was falling apart. My dad left my family to shack up with his 22-year-old assistant and cleaned out my parents’ bank account on his way out. And he didn’t just leave. He left the country, making it impossible for my mom to recoup her losses or demand child support.

“My mom had told me he’d left for an extended business trip, but the night before the science fair, I heard my mom talking on the phone and pieced everything together. He ruined everything.

“Then the next day I saw you happy. You seemed to have everything—a happy family, a perfect boyfriend, and a winning science fair project. I hated you. So, yes, I ruined your project. Even after all these years, I can’t say I’m sorry for it because even though—rationally—I know you had zero effect on what happened to my family, you represented everything I felt I had lost.”

The silence and humidity in the locker room feel oppressive, and for once, I have no words. I'm still bitter about the science project, but I had no idea Analiese had been through something so awful. For so many years, I’d stuck Analiese into one category: nemesis. Maybe that isn’t entirely fair.

She walks to the stalls to change, and I let her go. We quietly move through the motions of swim class, with me helping Coach Kim teach the regular attendees and Analiese working timed sets alone in the farthest lane. I watch her perfect technique, and today, I’m not annoyed by it. I’m not sure what I feel.

The dark cloud that gathered over me this morning follows me throughout the day. Jake notices during calculus and tries to make conversation with me, but I keep my responses minimal. It’s obvious he’s bothered by my mood, but my entire worldview has been inverted and I’m struggling to make sense of everything.

Every time Analiese passes me in the hallways, my stomach drops. For the first time, I notice how alone she is. Does she have any friends at all? She’s never struggled with group assignments in class, but I know how people can be—they flock to partner with the smart kids to ride their coattails.

I can’t take my eyes off her. Her clothes are not particularly fashionable. Her hair is unstyled, and her glasses are not trendy. In fact, I’m almost positive they are the same pair she’s been wearing since sixth grade. She sits on the edge of the cafeteria and reads a book while she eats her brown bag lunch. What is she reading? A textbook? A novel? What does Analiese do in her spare time? Does she have hobbies, pets, or maybe even a job?