Page 45 of The Beta Test

“No,” she says, pursing her lips for a moment. “I suppose not.”

An awkward note lingers in the air, the gentle clink of dishes filling the kitchen as we finish putting the last of the mess inside the dishwasher and start it. I wait for her to give me more, but silence hangs between us. She gazes at me for a moment, then pulls me into a hug.

“Want to finish the movie with Hunter?” she asks.

“Nah, I have some things to work on.”

“Course you do,” she sighs. “Goodnight.” She kisses me lightly on the head then makes her way to the couch next to Hunter.

I pull my phone from my pocket as I walk up the stairs and check my texts: nothing from Braden, nothing from Jenna.

With a flick of my wrists, I fling my curtains open and stare intently at Braden’s house, just barely visible in the night sky. The only illumination outlining the houses comes from the glow of the windows and the vague hazy light that always tends to hover above the densely populated suburb we call home. Not Braden’s house, though. It’s pitch black. I pick up my phone and call Braden, my eyes still trained on his house.

My hand nearly drops the phone when I hear his voice.

“Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Braden! Where are you?”

“Not home.”

“I know that. I thought you were flying home for Thanksgiving? What changed?”

I hear shuffling around like he closed a door; the ambient, indistinct background noise fades away, like he entered another room.

“School was just too busy, you know, being the first year at MIT. My parents decided to come here instead. You know, do some sightseeing in Boston and all that.”

“Huh,” I say, squinting into the darkness. It’s impossible to tell from this direction if his dad’s car is parked in the driveway like usual. And even if it is, they could have taken a rideshare to the airport instead of driving. And why am I even questioning him? This is Braden.

“I’m surprised your plans changed so suddenly, that’s all. Why didn’t you tell me? And I’m sad I don’t get to see you this weekend… it’s been so long.”

He sighs. “I know. But Christmas is just around the corner. It’ll be here before you know it.”

“And you will be here then, right?”

“Of course.”

Just then, a young female voice—one that sounds nothing like Mrs. Patel—calls out, “Braden!”

My heart instantly starts galloping in my chest.

“Who is that?” I ask.

Braden ignores me and must pull the phone away from his face to answer whoever it is. I hear the sound of rustling and a door opening. My mind starts churning over what’s happening. Maybe it’s not only his parents visiting this weekend. Maybe it’s a cousin⁠—

“Give me a minute, Tricia. I’ll be right there.”

Tricia. The Instagram girl.

“Braden—,” I start, but he cuts me off.

“Sorry, I have to go, Avery. I’ll call again in a couple days, ok?”

“But—”

“Love you.”

He hung up! I stare at my phone, dumbfounded. Who the heck is this Tricia chick and why does she seem to be everywhere around Braden? And how is she pulling priority over me? It almost feels like I’m Braden’s dirty little secret… like he was hiding away to talk to me on the phone. And would Braden invite some random, new “friend” to Thanksgiving dinner with his parents?