The Code for Love and Heartbreak - Jillian Cantor Page 0,70

from home. Maybe it’s the break, or maybe it’s that everyone who wants to use our app already is, but lunch has been quiet today. I have, so far, been sitting at our table all alone, and haven’t said a word to anyone. I’m happy to see Sam, though—it’s been twelve days since I’ve seen him last—but I also notice that, strangely, he’s alone.

“What’s that?” I say. “Where’s Laura?”

“Oh, she’s home sick. But that’s not my news. Ian and Brianna broke up over the break. And so did Bethany and Tyler.” I stare at him and nod, then eat a little more chili. “That’s not good, right?”

“Well...” I consider for a moment what this means for our app, for us, for the upcoming state competition. But I don’t think it’s as bad as Sam thinks it is. “We’re in high school. It’s not like we’re telling people who they should marry or anything. Just who they match best within our school. So, I guess it’s bound to happen. Some couples aren’t going to work out, right?”

“Yeah?” Sam smiles, looking reassured, and he sits down next to me and opens his lunch box. He pulls out an orange, a small thermos of soup and a sandwich on a full hoagie roll.

“Wow, nice lunch today,” I say.

He laughs. “My mom was off the past few days, and she totally stocked the fridge.”

I motion to my thermos of chili, instead of my usual tray of cafeteria-bought lunch. “My dad has been off, too, and was cooking for the first time in, like, ten years. And Izzy and I made six dozen cookies. Want one?” I push the small Tupperware of cookies toward him, and he takes out two halves of a broken star, holds them up and puts them back together before taking a bite.

“You and Jane have a fun New Year’s Eve?” he asks as he devours the cookie.

I push the Tupperware toward him and he takes another. “We did,” I say. “Did you and Laura go out?” Though even as I ask the question it occurs to me that maybe it would be weird if they had, given that he was texting Jane when the ball dropped.

He shakes his head. “Nah, just stayed home and watched the ball drop with my mom. I haven’t seen Laura since before we went skiing actually.” He says it pretty matter-of-factly, like his distance from Laura is neither here nor there. It’s certainly not devastating him, like how Izzy was acting like someone died when John was in Cancun for a week.

And I’m not sure what to make of that. But he doesn’t seem to notice my consternation and he asks if he can have another cookie. “Go ahead.” I push the container farther toward him. “Help yourself.”

* * *

Izzy is waiting in the parking lot for me right after school as promised, and then she drives me over to the Villages and pulls up in front to drop me off. “What time do you want me to come back?” she says.

“You don’t want to come in and hear me play?” I assumed she would, and I really wanted to introduce her to Mrs. Bates.

She makes a face. “No. This place gives me the creeps.”

I sigh and get out of the car. If Izzy gave it a chance, she would actually really like Mrs. Bates, but I don’t have time to argue with her. “Come back in an hour,” I say, before I walk inside.

I haven’t been to the Villages to play in a while. Between Dad’s heart attack, Thanksgiving, regionals and Christmas break, it’s been about a month since I’ve been here. I haven’t practiced piano as much as I should’ve, either, but the New Jersey Music Teachers Association competition isn’t until May, and if there’s any place I can safely sound rusty, it’s here.

I walk inside and go straight to the piano. Only about five residents are here today, including Mrs. Bates, who smiles and waves at me. I wave back, and can’t help but notice that Mr. Bates isn’t with her, which is unusual. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen her without him. She looks a little smaller than I remember her, her cheeks sunken and more wrinkled.

I play through all the residents’ favorites, and then try my way through the piece Mrs. Howard gave me right before Christmas. I’ve only played through it a few times at home—a Beethoven concerto that I don’t know nearly well enough to play up