The Beta Test (Connection Services #1)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

“And this is my vision board for this year.” I snag a picture of the board and quickly text it to Braden.

The way the afternoon sun filters through the window makes the images and lists shine like beacons, and the metal thumbtacks gleam like starbursts.

Mediocrity can’t be found on a single square inch.

Becoming valedictorian, earning swim team captaincy, and getting into MIT are just some of the highlights of my multi-year life plan, all represented on a corkboard.

“Amazing, Avery. You’re going to crush your goals this year, like usual.” Braden’s voice gives me goosebumps. He sounds like a guy who knows what he’s doing with his life and that is unbelievably attractive.

“How are you settling into your dorm? I wish we could video chat so you could show it to me,” I ask.

“I know,” he sighs. “Maybe next time. But everything here is going great, I promise. It’s been so busy. You know how it is.”

Yeah, I do. Like me, Braden Patel is driven and motivated.

He graduated at the top of his class last year—graduating a year early!

—and is already living the dream at MIT as a freshman.

We’ve been best friends most of our lives and have dated for the past five years.

We always keep each other accountable to reach our goals.

Nothing can stop us when we work together.

“Av, I gotta go. There’s another event for incoming freshmen and I don’t want to be late.”

Gah, even his dedication to punctuality sends a shiver down my spine. Am I lucky or what?

“Ok! Have fun. I love you.”

“Love ya too, Av.”

With a smile on my face, I slide my phone into my pocket and then gently lift my vision board back up to its original position against the wall behind my desk. It is the first thing I see every morning and the last thing I look at every night, keeping me on track.

This is it: my senior year. Although I’d never been one to slack off, dedication to my goals is more important this year than ever before.

Braden is waiting for me at MIT, and I’m bursting out of my skin with impatience to join him.

It isn’t my dream—it’s ours. As long as I follow the plan, everything will turn out exactly as it should.

And even though Braden is three thousand miles away, we’ll still be cheering each other on via phone and text every day.

At my tidy white desk, I pull out my brand-new planner and a couple unopened packs of stickers.

They are adorable and incredibly helpful.

There’s everything included, from stickers for marking test days to little cute seasonal icons.

After shuffling through and admiring the options, I begin filling out my schedule and decorating every page.

My hand smooths the papers, satisfied by the multiple pen colors and the texture the stickers provide.

Is there anything better? The planner even smells nice—like fresh dreams.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s my best friend, Jenna.

“Hey, Jenna.”

“Girl, what are you doing? I thought you were going to come over and swim today! It’s our last day of freedom before school starts tomorrow. Do you have to babysit tonight or something?”

“Uh, no, my mom is home. I’m… you know, filling out my schedule in my planner. And since we didn’t plan a specific time to swim, I’m technically not late.” I wedge the phone between my cheek and shoulder so my hands are free to continue peeling stickers free from their crinkly papers.

Jenna snorts. “Of course you are. How do you even know your schedule? I thought they posted that on the student portal tonight.”

“Those of us who obsessively refresh the portal page are sometimes rewarded with early information,” I reply smugly.

Though a few hours early didn’t make a huge difference, I still wanted to get my hands on it as soon as possible.

If I didn’t get the right classes, I’d have to show up early tomorrow and fight my counselor about it.

Thankfully, both my counselor and I will be spared that particular confrontation. My schedule is perfect.

“Avery James, put the planner down and get over here immediately! It’s ok to let loose and have fun once in a while. You can’t plan every second of your life.”

A loud sigh blows out of me as I roll my eyes. Jenna loves to be spontaneous, but I refuse to believe life is better when it’s messy. Messy is what ruins everything. “I’ll be there soon. But first, I need to—”

“No. You know what? If you don’t come over here right now, I’ll eat every single M no one else is supposed to be there anyway.

I give my vision board one final caress and straighten the picture of MIT’s logo.

One corner of the paper is folded up and won’t flatten when I finger-press it.

A quick reprint will fix that when I get home.

My flip-flops echo through the garage as I hustle to open the door of my dad’s old Corolla.

While he’s been gone for a work assignment, it’s essentially become my car.

The canvas bag I packed gets tossed into the passenger seat, and I crank the engine.

My dad’s favorite mix CD (yes, it’s so old it has a CD player) blares to life—Sugar Sugar by The Archies.

He always said my mom was his ‘candy girl,’ and the reason I love sweets so much is because she ate a ton of candy while pregnant with me.

I’m not sure if that’s true, but I remember singing the words at the top of my lungs, windows rolled down, with Dad smiling behind the wheel.

I flick the music off, and eight minutes later, I pull into a long, horseshoe driveway in front of the Taylors’ obnoxiously large house. Only four people live here, but the building could easily accommodate ten. The size definitely made it fun for hide-and-seek when we were younger.

As usual, I opt not to ring the doorbell and waltz in, breezing through the front hall until reaching the kitchen.

The blackmail, aka M it’s definitely not one of her volleyball teammates.

Is she dating someone? No—she would tell me, wouldn't she? Besides, the last time we talked about guys she said she was done with high school “boys” and would only consider dating “men” in the future. I’m still not entirely clear on how she makes that distinction.

I drag my coverup off and drape it over a pool chair.

After kicking off my flip-flops, I munch on a cookie while making my way towards the deep end of the pool.

The stonework of the pool deck heats the bottoms of my feet and scratches my skin, but in the best way.

It brings back memories of summers spent here.

When I finally get close enough to take in the scene, my jaw drops.

Jenna is standing on a ledge in the deep end laughing and kicking water towards a guy in the water.

His back is towards me, but I can see his broad, tanned shoulders hovering above the water while he splashes Jenna in retaliation.

In a flash, he climbs onto the ledge and grabs her, tossing her into the pool.

He then stands completely, his back towards me.

He flips his wet hair, sending rivulets of water cascading down his athletic body. Are those Darth Vader trunks—?

Jake. It’s him, but… it’s not. Did he suddenly grow half a foot?

Jenna’s voice startles me.

“Av! Get your tush in here and help me knock Jake off his butt. We’re playing king of the ledge.”

Jenna’s words filter into my ears, but I’m still stuck on examining Jake.

How in the world does he look so old? It’s unbelievable how different he looks.

Is this really the little boy who used to follow us around everywhere?

Who used to pull on my braid? He was all awkward with long limbs not too long ago, and now he looks like he belongs on the front of a fitness magazine.

It hadn't crossed my mind to wonder when he'd be back from camp, but it makes sense with school starting tomorrow. We all go to the same high school.

Jake must have heard Jenna, because now he’s turned around and he’s smiling in my direction.

I avoid eye contact, feeling flustered. But why?

It makes no sense. My hand automatically flits down to smooth my skirt, only for me to realize I took my swim coverup off and have nothing on my body except my polka dot one-piece swimsuit.

My hand floats up nervously and tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear.