Page 56 of The Beta Test

How in the world would she know that!? That meeting didn’t even happen 24 hours ago, and I haven’t so much as texted my mom since then.

“Where did you hear that?”

“I ran into Analiese’s mom at Domino’s when we picked up the pizza. She mentioned how excited Analiese is to co-captain with you.”

I run through my mom’s words in my mind and carefully examine her face. Is that supposed to be sarcastic? There’s no way Analiese would say that to her mom, unless her mom can’t read her own daughter’s inflections. She does have a pretty stoic face.

“Well, that’s great, Avery! Co-captain, captain, it’s all the same. I guess you can move that goal over on your vision board.” Dad grins at me. My eyes catch on his one, slightly crooked eye tooth that I always thought made him look like a friendly vampire when I was little.

“Definitely,” I return with more enthusiasm than I feel.

For the next half hour, we eat pizza and share stories about our lives, though it’s mostly Dad sharing about Australia with Hunter asking him a bunch of questions. When the pizzas have been demolished and my mom brings out a plate of my chocolate chip cookies, the conversation takes a turn. Mom gives Dad a nod, which must be some sort of signal.

“So kids, we have something we’d like to announce,” Dad starts.

My back snaps straight, and I toss my braid over my shoulder. Nerves flutter through me. I knew there was something going on! What if he's going to say he’s moving to Australia forever? With that actress? That’d be absurd… right?

“We know everything has been a little strange lately, with me being in Australia so long shooting that movie,” he continues. “And now that it’s over, life can go back to normal in some ways. But things will also be different.”

My eyes swing between them. Mom avoids my gaze. She’s looking at Dad, like she’s trying to squeeze the words out of him with the force of her will.

“You know that we love you both, so much.”

“So much,” Mom echoes softly.

“But your mom and I have chosen to separate for the time being. I’ve found an apartment nearby that has rooms for each of you. We haven’t worked out exactly when you will come stay with me, but we will find a schedule that works for everyone.”

The dining room falls silent. A clock on the wall ticks.

My dad’s words ring in my ears. Separating. Apartment. Schedule. There’s only one possible thing this means.

“You’re getting a divorce?” I ask.

“You’re not going back to Australia, right?” Hunter asks at the same time.

Hunter looks at me, his mouth gaping in disbelief. I’m not sure how much he understands right now, but he knows what divorce means. One of his best friends at school has divorced parents.

“No, I’m staying in California, and we’re not getting divorced. This is a trial separation. But we don’t want you kids to worry about all of that right now. The most important thing is that you know that we love you both, and we are here for you no matter what.”

I can barely believe what I'm hearing! And for once I don’t even think about protecting Hunter from the truth. I’m sick of our parents keeping us in the dark while we all try to pretend what’s been going on is normal. It’s not like our dad is a soldier on a deployment—he’s a cameraman who chose to take on a project that kept him on the other side of the world!

“Ok, but trial separations are what people do before a divorce,” I state slowly, like I’m having to explain this to a two-year-old instead of my parents. Hunter looks at me and I swear there is relief in his eyes. He’s glad I’m fighting to clarify what’s going on in our family. We deserve answers.

Mom sucks her lips into her mouth and lifts her eyebrows at my dad again. Apparently, this conversation is falling entirely on his shoulders. Is that because this is his choice, not hers? Or maybe she’s mad that she’s been solo-parenting for months.

“That’s true,” Dad replies, drawing out the word, “but that doesn’t necessarily mean that’s what is happening here. Sometimes parents just need some time apart to sort out their feelings and priorities.”

“But you’ve had ‘time apart’ for months now. Couldn’t you have done that then?”

Dad lets out an uncomfortable laugh. “I guess I can’t put anything past you, huh?” He pauses and looks at my mom. “Want to help me out here, Andie?”

“Nope,” she says, popping the ‘p’ sound.

Wow, she’s mad. That single word had the weight of a slammed door. The air practically ripples with the awkward tension. Mom’s mad, Hunter has tears in his eyes, and Dad is the outsider who apparently has decided he would do better apart from the rest of us.

“Are you sleeping here tonight?” I ask.

I know the answer. I want to make him say it.