The Code for Love and Heartbreak - Jillian Cantor Page 0,49
a pot of coffee, and they both close the lids on their laptops for a few minutes, too. As I’m preparing the drinks, I hear Hannah ask Jane about her outfit, and Jane tells her she looks cute in everything. Why didn’t I think to just say that when she asked me?
Hannah laughs in response, and the sound of her laughter from across the room makes me suddenly feel lighter myself. It’s nice not to be working in my house alone, and I realize I’m actually enjoying the fact that both of them are here, with me.
* * *
The next night, after coding club, I’m sitting in my bed with my laptop, still cleaning up the code, feeling weirdly glum about being home all alone and by myself tonight. As I work, my mind drifts to think about what everyone else is doing with their Friday night. Robert and Ben went to a movie; Sam and Laura are hanging out at her house, as they’d mentioned at lunch. Hannah and George are out to dinner. It’s silly but I’m wondering what Hannah did end up wearing to dinner, and whether George noticed—and how their date will go. I should want it to go well; it’ll only be further proof that my algorithm works. But I can’t shake the feeling that I’m kind of hoping it doesn’t. The thought of George and Hannah as a real bona fide couple makes me feel a little ache in my stomach. In coding club, George and I are the co-presidents. We’re supposed to be a team. But if he’s dating Hannah, then where does that leave me and what does it mean for the club?
A notification pops up on my screen that Jane just updated the back end code on GitHub. So I guess she’s working, too.
I pick up my phone and text her. I’m home by myself, working on code, too. I actually think we’re the only two in coding club not on dates right now.
She texts me the eye roll emoji.
I’m not sure whether she’s eye-rolling at the fact that she still doesn’t really love the matching app, and here we are, spending our Friday night working on it. Or that everyone else in coding club jumped all in with it. Or that she thinks dating, in general, is lame.
I’m still considering that as FaceTime chimes. I’m expecting it to be Izzy, but then I see it’s Jane. I pick up, and the first thing I notice is that she’s not wearing her lab coat—she has a gray Princeton T-shirt on, and her long black hair is piled up on her head in a messy bun. But it was silly to think she would always wear her lab coat, even at home. It’s kind of like her armor at school, I guess. And I feel sort of honored that she FaceTimed me without it. That she trusts me enough to show me who she really is, even if it’s filtered through my phone screen.
“Hey,” she says. “I figured it was easier to talk than to text.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “What are you working on?”
“Oh...just trying to speed up the match creation without breaking it altogether.” She sighs.
I nod. “I’m working on the intro screen to add George’s new heart button to enter the survey.”
“Cool,” Jane says. Then she grimaces. “Okay, are we both ridiculous? FaceTiming to discuss how we’re coding love on a Friday night, while everyone else is out there dating right now?”
I think about what Izzy would say: lame! But Izzy isn’t here, and Izzy and I have never agreed on what’s lame and what’s not. “No,” I say. “We’re not ridiculous. We’re smart. Who wants to be out dating, anyway?”
“Exactly,” she says, making a face. “What a waste of time and energy. And who has time with all honors and AP classes?”
I nod, agreeing. “Let Sam and Hannah and Robert and George go test out our matches,” I add. “You and I can stay home and do the real work.” I don’t say this part to her out loud, but it feels a little weird to put George in the other camp. Because up until now, he has always been the math brain, with me. But now he’s on a date, with Hannah. At least I have Jane.
“Yeah,” Jane agrees with me, and then I prop up my phone on my pillow, and continue working on code, and she does the same, so we work and chat a little bit