The Code for Love and Heartbreak - Jillian Cantor Page 0,39

“What matters is that now we know the truth and we’re blocking you from any more dating matches.”

My voice shakes a little, and I think Phillip and Jason are going to demand an explanation or keep me from walking the rest of the way to my car, but instead Phillip starts to laugh. He laughs so hard that his whole body shakes. “You really...think...you’ll...” He gasps out words in between laughter, and then shakes his head, unable to finish his sentence. Jason chuckles a little.

They’re both laughing at me now, and I think about what Izzy said, about how I shouldn’t be matching anyone. But Izzy is wrong. I understand this situation perfectly. And then I think about how Mara came to talk to me at lunch, how the girls’ team heard what happened at the dance, and how maybe the whole school will start using our app to find dates and then I really will prevent Phillip from dating anyone at our school.

“Laugh all you want,” I finally say, pushing past them to make my way toward my car. “But Jane figured out a way to exclude you from our database. You’ll never get a date now.”

* * *

The next afternoon, Sam, Hannah and I are sitting at my kitchen table, laptops open, all attempting to do research on what scientific factors are the biggest indicators of lasting love so we can definitively reconfigure our algorithm. I’m staring at an unhelpful journal article on my screen about pheromones and attraction. But I’m still thinking about my run-in with Phillip in the parking lot yesterday and wondering if I should mention it to Hannah now. She’s reading something on her own screen, her mouth open a little, looking engaged and determined. It’s much better than the way she’d looked last week, sad and depleted, and maybe I shouldn’t mention Phillip to her ever again?

“I think we need another survey,” Sam says suddenly, and I push Phillip out of my mind and turn my full attention to him.

“What kind of survey?” Hannah asks, shutting her laptop, propping her chin up with her hands.

“We need to survey people who’ve been in love for a long time.”

I think about the response I got from Dad, about Mom’s eyes. And from Izzy about how John makes her laugh. “People in love say stupid, unquantifiable things,” I say.

Sam smiles at me and shakes his head. “No, we won’t give them that option, E. We’ll offer them all the categories we have in our database and in our algorithm—interests, activities, values, background, appearance, etc. Then we’ll have them rank each one by most to least important in their lasting love.”

I consider what he’s saying, excited about the prospect of actually getting this right. “In other words, we’ll use math to figure this out.” Of course. That’s the most obvious, the most accurate, way to calibrate our algorithm. Why didn’t I think of that?

“Okay...but where are we going to find people who’ve been in love for a long time?” Hannah says. “My parents are divorced. And yours are, too, right, Sam?”

He frowns—like he hasn’t thought of this part. “True,” he says.

“I mean, do people even stay in love for a long time anymore, or is that like a myth?” Hannah asks in all seriousness.

I think about Mr. and Mrs. Bates at the retirement village last week, the way Mrs. Bates so calmly called him honey, and attended to him, even in his confusion. The Villages has a thousand cottages, and there are many older, married couples there. “Actually, I think I know exactly where we can find them,” I say.

* * *

We design a very simple, on-paper survey—ten questions that can be taken with a pen or pencil. I go into Dad’s home office and make three hundred copies, and then I drive the three of us over to the Villages.

I’ve never been here on a Saturday before, and the parking lot is packed. I remember what Mrs. Bates said, about their children being in the city with their own children now, and I wonder if they ever come and visit on the weekends, or if Mr. and Mrs. Bates are stranded here, all alone. I think again, guiltily about what will happen to Dad if I really do move to California next year. Of course, he’s much younger than Mr. and Mrs. Bates, but he’ll be all alone in Highbury, too.

“It’s cool that you volunteer here,” Hannah says as we all walk inside the front lobby