The Code for Love and Heartbreak - Jillian Cantor Page 0,30
a little game they play, a competition, to try and see who can get an underclassman to hook up with him first,” George says. I can’t process what he means or how this relates to us. I shake my head. “That’s why they all wanted matches. They’re using us, Emma. They’re using our app to help them with their disgusting game. And now we have all these freshman and sophomore girls believing we’ve matched them to a person they’re supposed to fall in love with. And we have all these senior and junior cross-country guys betting on who has sex with one of them first.”
“What?” I hear what George is saying, of course, but his words don’t make sense. The cross-country boys match with these girls, mathematically. Of course they should want to date them. And some people who date in high school do have sex, so maybe that’s all George heard. “Maybe you misunderstood?”
“Oh, I didn’t misunderstand.” His words are so sharp they hurt, and it’s hard to breathe.
I take a step back and sink down on the bench in front of the large glass trophy case behind me, filled with championship trophies from years of sporting events I’ve never attended. George stays standing, and we stare at each other.
“Misunderstand what?” Jane has walked out of the gym, along with Sam. I peek behind him for Laura, but it’s only him and Jane.
“I found her for you,” Sam says to George. “What’s going on?” He notices me sitting down, and shoots me a worried look.
George repeats for them what he just told me. “Crap,” Jane says. “We have to warn the girls. And I just saw Hannah and Phillip getting ready to leave—we have to go get her.”
“But my algorithm matched them...” I’m still trying to breathe, to process everything in my head. Math is better than people. Math doesn’t lie or leave you or hurt you. “And Hannah is having so much fun,” I say weakly. But Hannah really is having so much fun, and Phillip genuinely seems to like her. This doesn’t make any sense at all. Is it possible George is making this into a bigger thing than it should be because he still isn’t happy with the club using my app for our project? “Are you trying to sabotage my app?” I say now.
“Jesus, Emma, do you really think I’d do that?” George’s face reddens. He’s definitely angry now. He turns away from me, shutting me out of the conversation he’s having in a huddle with Sam and Jane.
I hear Sam saying he’s texting Hannah. And then he and Jane and George run off toward the parking lot to look for her. Should I follow them, or should I stay here on the relative safety of this bench? Before I can decide what to do, I lose sight of them. George’s words echo in my head. Jesus, Emma. They thrum in my chest, and they hurt. I know deep down that George would never sabotage our project. George is too good, and George wants to win. Why did I even say that out loud? George isn’t the one I should be mad at. Phillip. Stupid Phillip is ruining everything.
My phone dings with a text from Sam: they found Hannah, and George is driving her home. George wants to know if I can find another ride. I text Sam back that I can.
I hold my phone in my hand a minute longer, trying to think of something else to text back to Sam. Something I can say that would make this right. But I don’t know what that is.
So instead I text Dad and ask if he can come pick me up.
Chapter 11
I wake up the next morning, and the events from the dance last night come crashing back to me all over again, so vividly, as if I’m still sitting right there in front of the trophy case. I’d turned off my phone and stuck it in my night table drawer after I got home last night. I’d closed my eyes and willed it all away, wished for sleep to overtake me. I groan and put my pillow over my head, not wanting to deal with it now, either, wishing for more sleep. But I’ll never fall back to sleep. Not when I feel this giant nervous pit in my stomach, knowing that somehow Izzy and George were right to be worried about me all along. I’m in way over my head.