The Code for Love and Heartbreak - Jillian Cantor Page 0,19

over his shoulder those interests don’t really match mine (piano, math, coding), or only in the smallest way, if you’re counting music as an interest in the vaguest sense. I still have physical features weighted fairly high, too. My hair is blond, my eyes blue. And Sam has deep green eyes and tar-black hair. Though we are about the same height...

“What’s wrong?” Sam asks, handing the computer back to me, finished entering all his data.

“What?” I say. “Nothing.”

“You’re frowning,” Sam says.

“Am I?”

At just that moment, Hannah steps out of the bathroom in a short green-silk slip dress. I remember Izzy wearing it once—to what dance, I can’t remember now, but she’d gotten her photo taken with John there. He’d worn a matching green tie, and in the picture, Izzy clings to him, both of them smiling too wide, which I thought made them look a little like puppets. But Izzy loves that photo. She has it encapsulated inside a tiny square piece of plastic, a souvenir key chain from whatever dance they went to, and she’d hung her car keys on it all senior year.

Hannah looks totally different in this dress than Izzy had. For one thing, she’s a little shorter than Izzy, so the dress hits right below her knees, not above. And for another, her hair is so red that it magnifies the green in a totally different way. She’s put her hair back in a band, and now I can see that the dress is the same exact sea-glass color as her eyes. “Perfect,” I say. “That dress is perfect for you.”

“You think?” She spins around, glancing in the mirror, a little unsure.

I nod. I’m usually terrible at judging this kind of thing, but the way the color matches her eyes almost exactly makes it so obvious she’s chosen the right dress, even to me.

“Hey, what about me, Emma?” Sam elbows me and grins. “Will you help me find something to wear?”

“My dad has a closet full of suits across the hall. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you borrowed one.” I say it completely straight-faced, though obviously I’m kidding. Sam is only an inch or so taller than my five-five, and Dad is six-two.

“I don’t think they’re my size.” He laughs, like he didn’t expect me to joke around with him, but he’s happy that I did. I like the way his surprised laughter sounds a little different than his regular laughter, the way it bubbles up from his throat, clear and pure and almost musical.

“Fair point,” I say, grinning. “And anyway, how about we match you to a date first? Then we’ll worry about what you’re wearing.”

“Okay,” he says. “Do it.”

I hesitate for a second. “Actually, it’s going to take a little while for the database to update.” I hear the words come out of my mouth, a blatant lie, and I feel my face turning hot, wondering if he can see right through me or if he knows enough to call me on it. I shut the lid to my laptop. “I’ll do it later and text you the results.” The truth is, I don’t want him looking over my shoulder when I run his match. Really, it’ll only take a few minutes. But I already feel this weird disappointment settling in my chest, and I’m worrying I’m not going to like whomever he matches with. I want to be alone to process the results.

Sam doesn’t question me, or seem to have any idea I’m not being truthful. He simply nods and says, “Okay, cool.”

Hannah walks out of the bathroom again, holding on to Izzy’s green dress on a hanger, and the three of us stare at each other for a minute, not saying anything. They both did what they came for, so... I can’t think of another reason for them to stay. Though I wouldn’t mind if they did. But maybe they’re ready to leave? “Do you want me to drive you guys home?” I finally ask.

“Actually, could you drop me off at the mall instead? I need shoes,” Hannah says. “Your sister’s are all size eights and I wear a seven.”

“I could go to the mall, too,” Sam says. “I really will need something to wear.” He turns to look at me. “Why don’t you come with us?”

“Oh, no, I can’t,” I say quickly.

“Yeah, come,” Hannah says. “You can help me pick out shoes. It’ll be fun.”

The mall is one of my least favorite places. There’s not much I hate more than