Page 49 of The Beta Test

Despite my broken heart, I cough an abrupt laugh. “This isn’t a murder mystery.”

He shrugs. “Maybe not, but it is something that matters to you and we should do everything we can to get you some clear answers.”

“We?”

“Yeah, we,” he says almost dismissively, as if this is a given and shouldn’t be questioned. “Doesn’t Braden live right behind you? Why don’t we just go visit his parents and ask where Braden is?”

I shake my head. “I was going to do that over Thanksgiving weekend but they were gone. Supposedly visiting Braden in Massachusetts.”

“Well, they should be back now, right?”

Yes, but the idea of knocking on Mr. and Mrs. Patel’s front door with Jake standing beside me, intent on interrogating them about the whereabouts of their son sends a shiver of terror through me. What if they think I’m crazy? I’ve been questioning my sanity myself often enough, and this would add fuel to the fire.

“Jake, we can’t just go banging on their door and demanding answers.”

“Of course, not. We’re not crazy. We’ll meet up to do more calculus this Friday after hockey practice, and we’ll casually watch their house through your bedroom window and wait for them to come home.”

“You want to stake out the Patels from my bedroom window?”

Instead of acknowledging how absurd that sounds, he simply nods in confirmation and continues.

“Then we’ll even more casually go in your backyard and start a game of volleyball, when we’ll ‘accidentally’ knock the ball over to their yard. Then like the friendly neighbors we are, we’ll bring a plate of cookies over and knock on their door, explaining that our ball flew into their backyard. We’ll apologize and offer the cookies.”

“Ok. And how is that going to help us figure out what’s up with Braden?”

“Because while we all enjoy a fresh, homemade cookie, we’ll subtly mention what a bummer it is that Braden isn’t here to enjoy the cookies. Then you can come in and ask how things are going at MIT and how their trip was to visit him.”

I nod slowly, envisioning the scene unfold. Yes, this could work. The Jenna situation gnaws at the back of my mind, but one crisis at a time.

“We’ll even code name it. Operation Cookies,” he adds.

“Ok,” I say. “Let’s do it.”

Chapter Nineteen

Friday arrives with a to-do list that’s a mile long and emotionally intense: meet with Kim, meet with my academic advisor, Operation Cookies with Jake after his hockey practice, and a family dinner tonight because Dad is supposedly flying home from Australia.

After helping another track athlete with a sprained ankle during swim class (is there an ankle epidemic going around?), I quickly rinse off in the shower and grab my things before heading to the small corner office that the swim staff and captains use during swim season. Unfortunately, Analiese is already sitting on one of the chairs in front of the desk, smiling at Kim as they make small talk.

“Good morning,” I say in the doorway, my backpack slung over one shoulder. “Is this a good time to meet, Coach? Or should I come back when you’re done with Analiese?”

Kim turns her smile towards me and waves me inside with one hand. “Come on in, Avery. Thanks for meeting with me this morning. Analiese is part of this meeting too.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, but Kim either doesn’t hear me or chooses not to respond.

I enter slowly and drop into the empty seat, subtly scootching it several inches away from her. Analiese notices and smirks. She, just as subtly, grabs her backpack from the floor by her feet and moves it, so it’s now leaning against mine. My foot smoothly kicks it away.

Kim, completely oblivious to the war being waged behind the desk outside her viewpoint, leans back in her chair and takes a sip from her pink travel mug.

“Well, girls, it was an impossible choice so I decided not to choose at all! You’ve both been invaluable assets to the Valley Prep swim team for the past three years and you have both gone above and beyond in showing your leadership potential. Which is why I’d like to ask you to be co-captains for our season starting in January.”

Co-captains?! Is this some alternate universe where only the worst-possible things happen?

I plaster a smile on my face while my brain scrambles to fix this. This can still be a win for the vision board—co-captain still counts as captain, right? It’s not like MIT, or any other college, will care. It’s just that it’d be shared with… Analiese.

“We’ve never had co-captains since I’ve been on the team. Is there precedent for this?” Analiese asks.

My head snaps in her direction, and I see the tension lining her eyes. For some reason it didn’t occur to me that Analiese would oppose this as well. And for the record, I agree with her question!