Page 89 of The Beta Test

Standing a little back from his parents, eyes locked on me. He’s dressed much more casually in shorts and a hoodie. But there’s just something so overwhelmingly Jake about him that’s hard to put my finger on, and I mean that in the best possible way. My eyes roam over him, trying to decide what that Jake-thing is, and I swear a subtle blush forms on his cheeks. The rest of the world is still a blur while I watch him.

His sandy hair gleams with lighter blonde highlights in the late afternoon sunlight. Startlingly blue eyes glow from the contrast with his sun-kissed skin. One dimple winks at me as he approaches, not quite a grin, and in his hands he carries two large bouquets of beautiful sunflowers.

“You got us flowers, Jakey!” Jenna coos teasingly as she takes both bouquets from his hands and passes one to me. She smells the flowers then shoots me an exaggerated smile that confuses me. She’s being over the top, even for Jenna.

Jake shoots her an annoyed glance, then looks back at me. “Congratulations, Avery,” he says.

“And ‘congratulations Jenna,’” Jenna adds.

Jake ignores her, eyes still locked on mine. I glance down at the flowers, their fragrance floating up and tingling my senses.

“Oh! There’s Amanda! I’ll be back,” Jenna tosses over her shoulder as she sweeps past us, leaving us rooted to the spot.

He’s looking at me. Waiting.

My eyebrows rise as the moment stretches. He seems… nervous. Now that his hands are free, one is tapping a frantic rhythm against his leg. My gaze drops to his hoodie. I freeze.

A breath catches. My body lights up like a live wire. Everything my gut had been screaming all year—that I denied and pushed down and locked into a box I didn't want to examine too closely—is now right before my eyes in the undeniable light of day.

Jake’s hoodie isn’t plain. It’s printed. With numbers. Numbers that start with 3.1415.

Pi.

My eyes bounce from his sweatshirt to his face. Something in his gaze makes questions multiply exponentially in my mind. He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can, my dad cuts in.

“Hey, guys—we’re all heading to Luigi’s together,” he says. “Our reservation is soon, so we should head out.”

“Jake, can you go grab Jenna?” Mrs. Taylor adds.

Everyone starts turning toward the parking lot. I need answers!

“Avery, let’s go!” my mom calls over her shoulder. Hunter throws me an impatient look from her side.

My head snaps back toward Jake, but he's already walking down the field toward where Jenna is posing for pictures with her volleyball teammates. Halfway there, he glances back. Just once.

He taps the front of his hoodie, then mouths, Later. And then he keeps going.

He's just going to walk away?! A frustrated growl rumbles in my chest, but I follow my family anyway. A few people call out congratulations as I breeze through the crowd, and I do my best to appear normal. But inside I'm confused. And mad. And a million other things.

Chapter Thirty-Two

When we get to Luigi’s, I leave my graduation gown and bouquet in the car. My dad checks us in at the hostess booth, and we’re led to a large table in a semi-private area of the restaurant.

“Can we get tiramisu?” Hunter asks as we slide into the chairs at one side of the table.

Mom chuckles. “We have to eat dinner first.”

“But if Avery wants to we definitely will,” my dad adds. He looks at me with raised eyebrows in question, and I can feel Hunter’s gaze boring into the side of my head.

“Yeah, sure,” I mumble. The fact that we’re here to celebrate my graduation is the least important thing on my mind right now.

Footsteps approach from the hall—the Taylors breeze into the room, all smiles and chatter. The chandeliers hanging from the ceiling cast a spotlight on them as they approach. My skin prickles.

Jake quickly slides into the seat next to me, causing Jenna to smack his shoulder. “I was going to sit there!”

Mr. and Mrs. Taylor ignore their children's antics and settle themselves across the table near my parents—probably picking up where they left off. The ringing in my ears hasn’t stopped, and I haven’t been following a single word anyone has said. The numbers on Jake's hoodie run through my mind on a loop.

Jenna gives Jake’s shoulder one more playful whack before taking a seat across from me instead. “I’m starving,” she states dramatically. She grabs a garlic stick from the table a waitress dropped off. “Who knew graduating high school makes you so hungry?”