The Code for Love and Heartbreak - Jillian Cantor Page 0,29

around, but it’s so crowded and the faces are a blur as everyone is moving all around me. No one is paying attention to me.

Hannah grabs on to my hand and looks silly as she jumps up and down, but her energy is weirdly infectious and I mimic her moves for a few songs until we are both laughing and sweating. And for the smallest moment, I understand why Izzy always liked going to these things.

“Hey,” Phillip says, pushing his way through the crowd and grabbing on to Hannah’s arm. “There you are! I couldn’t find you. Come back and dance with me.”

“Go,” I say to Hannah, remembering why she’s here. Why we’re both here. “Have fun.”

“Do you want to come and dance with us?” she offers.

“No, I’m good. I’m going to walk around, find George. I’ll catch up with you later.”

Hannah clings to Phillip’s arm, and the two of them disappear back into the crowd.

* * *

I scan the dance floor but don’t see George, so I gravitate toward the edge of the gym, the long tables set up with bowls of punch and trays of cupcakes. I grab a cupcake and lick the vanilla frosting off, noticing Ms. Taylor and Mr. Weston are both here as chaperones, standing just a few feet away from me, holding hands.

“Emma!” Ms. Taylor says, and they both walk toward me. “How nice to see you here.”

Maybe she believes I’m taking her advice, to be more social. “I came with Jane and George,” I explain. “To monitor how our matches are going.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here. And it’s good to see you all getting along again,” she says kindly. “It won’t kill you to dance a little, too, have some fun.” She turns and smiles at Mr. Weston, and it feels like a weirdly private moment between them, so I look away, and then I see George, quickly walking toward me.

“Cupcake?” I hold up my half-eaten one. George likes cake and hates icing, while I’m the opposite.

He shakes his head, and I drop the remainder of the cupcake in the trash. Then George grabs my hand. “I need to talk to you!” He’s shouting to be heard above the music, and that makes him sound upset. Or maybe he is upset?

“You two have fun,” Ms. Taylor says, and she and Mr. Weston wander off, still holding hands.

“Did you see that?” I say to George. “Our very first match is actually working out.” But he ignores me and pulls me toward the exit of the gym, into the hallway where it’s quieter.

“We have a problem,” he says, speaking at a normal level now, but he’s frowning and still sounds upset.

“What?” I say. “Is one of the couples not getting along?”

He shakes his head. “Much worse. Dammit, Emma,” he snaps at me, seemingly out of nowhere.

His words sting. I feel a little like he slapped me, and I pull away from him.

George sighs and looks down at his feet, so I do, too. He’s wearing black leather shoes so shiny and brand-new looking that I wonder if he bought them just for this occasion. Normally he wears jeans and gray Converse, and actually, I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him dressed up before. “I knew this was a terrible idea,” he’s saying now.

“What?” I look back up, and meet his eyes, trying to decipher the expression on his face. Hurt or disappointment or anger?

“The app,” he says.

“It was not a terrible idea,” I say through gritted teeth. “Didn’t you just see how happy Ms. Taylor and Mr. Weston looked in there?”

He shakes his head and doesn’t say anything for a minute. The expression on his face is anger, yes. He’s mad at me, but I have no idea why. “I overheard Phillip and some of the cross-country guys talking outside the bathroom,” he finally says.

“So...what? They don’t like their matches?” I don’t believe it, even as I say it out loud. Hannah and Phillip are having a great time, and she told me Evan and Becca were, too. Jenny and Jason also looked pretty happy in there.

“No...they like their matches, all right. But not the way you think.”

“George, I don’t know what you’re saying or why you’re so angry. Just spit it out.” I’m frustrated, and I’m still sweating from dancing, and it’s too hot out here. I blow on my bangs to get them off my sweaty forehead. This is exactly why I hate dances.

“The guys on the cross-country team all apparently have