The Code for Love and Heartbreak - Jillian Cantor Page 0,41
start to reconfigure my algorithm. We’ll start coding the app this week, and by next week, we’ll have a test app running on TestFlight that people can actually download and then use to match themselves. The regional tournament is almost four weeks away, the week after Thanksgiving, and we should be more than ready with a solid prototype by then.
Then last period, during AP Physics, the school secretary comes over the intercom and interrupts Mr. Halpbern: “Can you send Emma Woodhouse straight to Mr. Dodge’s office?”
Mr. Halpbern looks at me, his mouth a circle, his eyes expressing the shock that I’m feeling. I have never once in my entire life been called out of a class to go to the principal’s office. In fact, I’m pretty sure if Mr. Dodge even knows who I am, it’s only because I ended junior year ranked first in my class.
“You’d better go,” Mr. Halpbern says, sounding as concerned as I feel. I gather my things and stand, and George shoots me a worried look as I make my way out toward the hallway.
When I get to the front office, I walk in and spot the white of Jane’s lab coat across the room. She’s already sitting in a chair outside Mr. Dodge’s office. “Hey,” I say to her. “Do you know what’s going on?” Since we were both called down, I have a strange feeling that this has something to do with our coding club project. But then why wasn’t George called down? Why me and Jane?
She shrugs, and I sit down next to her. We can see through the glass that Mr. Dodge is on the phone, but we can’t make out what he’s saying. He hangs up, and Jane tugs on the sleeves of her lab coat with her fingers, nervously clutching the material in her fists.
Mr. Dodge opens the door. “Girls,” he says pointedly, staring at us. He ushers us into his office, offering us the two chairs across from his desk. I’m already frowning as we sit down, feeling annoyed that he called us girls, which feels somehow both dismissive and demeaning. I’m not sure how a person is supposed to react in this situation. But I’m mad that I’m missing the end of AP Physics, and also confused about what’s going on.
“Why are we here?” I ask bluntly.
“Well.” Mr. Dodge folds his hands in front of him on his desk, twiddling his thumbs. “I’ve gotten a few complaints from the boys’ cross-country team. Apparently you two created some kind of...” He looks down and checks his notes. “App that allows women to demean them?”
Laughter gurgles in my throat and I can’t stop it from coming out. Both Jane and Mr. Dodge look at me and frown, so I know right away my first reaction, to laugh, was the wrong one. I think about the way Phillip laughed at me on Friday, in the parking lot, and then I realize whatever is going on here is all his doing. Or maybe it’s my fault, for saying the wrong things to him. “That’s ridiculous,” I say, now completely serious. “If anyone’s demeaning anyone, it’s the other way around.”
“So you didn’t create an app?” he asks.
Jane and I look at each other, and I’m really not sure what to say next. Jane surprises me by speaking, her voice sounding louder, more forceful, than normal. “We’re working on a project for coding club, an app, yes.” Then she explains about what happened with Phillip and the boys on the cross-country team at the dance, and about how she designed a survey to try and prevent that going forward.
Mr. Dodge is frowning the whole time. “Look,” he says. “You’re both good girls.” There he is, calling us girls again. “But the boys say they didn’t do anything wrong. And they feel bullied by this app, so I’m going to have to ask you to shut it down.”
Shut it down? No way! Not when we’re finally getting it right.
Before I can say anything, Jane speaks again: “Bullied?” She sounds incredulous. “So you’re fine with the fact that the cross-country team is betting on which underclassman they can have sex with first? But you’re not okay with us asking people to flag bad behavior?” She’s breathing hard; her hands are shaking.
“If you had some proof about this...bet, then of course I would investigate that,” Mr. Dodge says. He stares at both of us, as if he’s waiting for us to hand over some sort of