Page 47 of The Beta Test

Chapter Eighteen

My backpack feels full of lead as I walk onto campus Monday morning. A heavy fog covers the campus and there’s a crispness in the air I’d usually enjoy. The frost-covered grass signals Christmas is near, but it’s hard to feel excited because at this point, it’ll likely be a repeat of Thanksgiving.

The awkwardness of Dad being gone never lifted all weekend, even when Mom had to work and I babysat Hunter again. There aren’t enough movies or cookies in the world to fill the Dad-shaped void. I tried to keep the weekend light, but I could still see Hunter’s total devastation. Even though Dad did call a couple times, neither one of us felt like talking to him.

During swim class, I avoid Analiese’s dark glare, but she sidles up to me in the locker room anyway. Wasn’t she supposed to be done with this class and back to cross country or whatever? It feels like she’s here simply to flaunt the power she has over me. As usual, we’re the first ones there and every single one of our movements seems to send an echo through the space.

“Sorry about taking the swim captain mantle from you. No, wait,” she says with a condescending head tilt, “I’m not sorry. Our team deserves to have someone who honors her commitments in leadership.”

I slam my locker shut with more vim than necessary and turn to face her while working to pull my hair into a bun. I do not have it in me for Analiese today.

“Analiese, you’re delusional. Kim already emailed to meet with me about making me captain.”

She jerks back in surprise. “She emailed me too.”

“No.”

She lifts one dark eyebrow. “... yes?”

I huff in frustration. “I mean, that makes NO sense. Why would she email you when she emailed me?”

“Look, I don’t know what to tell you. She emailed me before Thanksgiving but then said she would have to reschedule when she’s feeling better. And then she emailed again this morning to say her daughter is now sick so she’s not sure when that will be.”

WHAT. I didn’t even get an email about her daughter! Or maybe I missed it this morning? Either way, this doesn’t make sense because there’s only one slot for team captain.

“There must be some mistake,” I say.

Analiese shrugs. “Maybe the mistake is yours, always thinking everything is about you. Per usual. Other people have lives too.”

Despite what she thinks, I do not make everything about me. I cheerlead for Braden (metaphorically speaking), babysit Hunter, support my mom, and I’m literally here at swim class to help other athletes! But the idea of defending myself feels like too much—like a ten thousand pound weight I don’t have the energy to lift. So instead I turn and walk towards the pool without another word.

The rest of the morning passes in a blur. Spanish flies by, and my AP lit teacher hands back our essays on Wuthering Heights that we submitted before Thanksgiving. Perfect score. This should be good news, except I know Analiese probably received a perfect score as well. I scowl at her from across the room, but she doesn’t notice.

During the mid-morning break, I hide in the library to work on homework and ignore Jenna’s text demanding we meet to talk. How can we talk when all the words are wound up inside like a huge knot? Untangling them alone feels impossible, let alone explaining them to someone else.

Later, I think I can slip out of calculus without Jake harassing me (he was talking to some guys behind him), but that is too much to hope for. Things between Jake and me are fine, but my mom’s comments about him always having a crush on me have made it all… weird. And I have enough on my plate to deal with right now.

“Hey,” he says gently while lightly grabbing my arm to get my attention, “you ok?”

I look into his eyes for a second before realizing it’s a mistake. There’s a tenderness and concern there that feels like something. To be honest, it reminds me of how Braden used to look at me. And wow, that thought hurts. I rub my chest, as if that could possibly ease the ache.

Braden can’t be bothered with me now, and that’s the cold, hard truth. The evidence can’t be ignored anymore. Not after that phone call and the way he blatantly ignored my text.

Resentment for Braden surges, but I attempt to tamp it down and focus on Jake’s question. It’s not Jake’s fault Braden’s a bad boyfriend—at least, not all the details, like what happened this weekend. An automatic answer of “yeah, fine” rises to my lips, but I pause and glance around the room, verifying it’s empty. Instead of brushing him off, I offer some truth. He’s the only one who seems to care or notice, and does it make me a bad person if I take advantage of that a little?

“Not really.”

Just two words, but so much more than that.

He gives a quick nod, then one hand goes to the back of his neck—a nervous tell he’s had since he was young. “Does it have to do with Jenna?”

A jolt slices through me. Has Jenna been talking about me?

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, maybe it’s not my place to say, but…”

“Spit it out, Jake! What did she say?” My mind whirls over the possibilities.