She makes it sound so easy, like I can fix everything. But what she said is at least partly right. The competition is over. We lost. And it’s almost the end of my senior year. Coding club is done for me, forever. That’s what George was trying to say to me yesterday in the car, isn’t it?
Numbers are still better than people. Some people. But not Izzy, never Izzy. And not Jane. Or Sam. Or Hannah. Or George. Definitely not George.
“I don’t know, Iz,” I finally say. “What if they won’t forgive me? Especially George. He looked really mad when he got out of the car yesterday.”
“Em.” Izzy sighs so loud it’s almost like I’m hearing her from 2,764 miles away, her frustration bouncing across all those miles and not just coming through the speaker in my phone. “George will forgive you.”
I remember what she’d said about George over Christmas break. That she’d based her assumption on this ridiculous idea that she could tell his feelings simply by the way he looked at me. “He’s dating Hannah,” I remind her.
“He might be dating Hannah, but only because of the silly app you guys made,” Izzy says.
But I think about the way they were holding hands at the competition yesterday, the way George convinced the judges how great our app was by using her as an example, and I tell Izzy she’s wrong. That with all the miles between us, she really doesn’t see what’s going on the way I do.
“Oh, Em,” she says. “Just go take a shower and go to the dance.”
* * *
After Izzy and I hang up, I do get out of bed and take a shower. I let the water run over my face, wishing for it to bring me clarity, help me decide what to do next. Izzy got me into this mess with her stupid offhand comment in the first place. But Izzy also understands people in a way I never will. Should I take her advice now? I don’t really want to go to the dance, much less alone. And besides, what if I go and I try to apologize and no one accepts my apology? Then I’ll feel even worse.
I get out of the shower, put my sweats on and go downstairs to make a mocha. Dad must’ve gone out or into work because the house is dark and quiet. I grab my calculus homework again, and sit with it at the table, determined to focus on the numbers. This has to make me feel better, help me think everything through. It always does.
But I’m just staring at the page, the numbers still swimming in front of my eyes. I keep thinking about Jane, about the way she showed me her armor and then let me in behind it, and how you don’t just do that and then decide to hate a person forever—do you? Maybe Izzy’s right. I have to go apologize to her. To all of them. At least I have to try.
It’s five o’clock by now and the dance starts at six. I shut my calculus book and go upstairs to Izzy’s room. I turn on the light, and walk inside the closet and thumb through her dresses.
She left the dress she wore to this very same Valentine’s Day dance last year, or maybe it was the year before. It’s red and strapless, and it hits midcalf, and it’s not something I would ever normally wear.
But I try it on, and look at myself in the full-length mirror. I pull my hair back, and hold it on top of my head with my hand, and suddenly I can see the weird resemblance between Izzy and me that everyone would always say was there when we were younger but that I have never been able to see myself. Standing in Izzy’s room, in Izzy’s dress, I wonder if maybe I can channel Izzy’s good ways with people. If I really can fix everything I’ve ruined.
Chapter 33
I sit in my car in the school parking lot for a good twenty minutes, trying to work up the courage to go inside to the dance by myself. I even text Izzy and tell her I’m wavering on going in. I don’t expect her to text right back because I know she and John have Valentine’s Day plans. But then she surprises me.
Em, get out of the car and go inside. Now!
I don’t want to, I text back.
Get over yourself!!
My face turns hot, aware she is yelling at me across all these miles and over text no less. But then she adds, Love you, with three different-colored heart emojis. The last one is yellow, and that makes me think of George and his animated yellow hearts in our app, and I feel so sick to my stomach and sad and nervous that I know I couldn’t stand it if he stays mad at me forever. I have to go find him and apologize. So I take a deep breath and force myself to get out of the car.
It’s loud inside the school, and as I walk in, the hallway floor is thumping with bass. There are couples outside the gym, taking a breather, and when I get closer, I see Mara and Liz are among them, holding hands. They’re standing next to Alyssa and Anderson, who are kissing. Looks like their second chance might have worked out? I’m so busy staring at Alyssa and Anderson that I almost walk right into Brianna and Ian walking out of the gym before I notice them. I guess they got back together? “Oh, hey, Emma,” Brianna says. “Cute dress.”
“It’s...I...” I feel like I should explain that it’s Izzy’s dress, and that inside of it I feel nothing like myself. I’m impersonating Izzy, trying to channel Izzy’s social skills. But instead I just say, “Um...thanks.”
Mara has noticed me now, too. “Emma, you look great!” she exclaims, and she lets go of Liz’s hand to walk over and give me a hug.
It’s weird because, in my head, everyone in the entire school is mad at me. But clearly none of these people are mad. Why would they be? They’re all happy because I helped them get matches for this dance. We might’ve lost the competition yesterday. But they’re all standing here together now, because of me. Well, because of me and George, Jane, Sam, Hannah and Robert. And even though we didn’t win, everything isn’t all terrible, is it?
“Hey, have you guys seen the rest of coding club?” I ask.
“I just saw Jane in there.” Liz points her thumb to the gym. “She’s wearing black. A long-sleeved dress.” Liz wrinkles up her nose a little, but picturing Jane in a long-sleeved ugly black dress makes me smile because it’s so...Jane.
I thank Liz, and walk inside the gym. There are so many people, and everyone’s moving, a swirl of colors: reds, and blues, and blacks. A lot of girls are wearing black. It’s going to be impossible to spot Jane. I consider turning around, walking out. But then I think about what Izzy texted me, to get over myself. And I take a breath and push my way into the crowd, scanning for a familiar face.
I see Robert first. He’s dancing with someone—Ben, I think. Yes, I get a better look. Definitely Ben. They’re both laughing, and they’re not mad at me, so I make my way toward them. As I get closer, I see the red of Hannah’s hair. She’s dancing with them also. And not too far from them, I spot the black lace sleeves of Jane’s dress, and then there’s Sam with her, dressed in a gray suit with a pink tie. None of them see me yet, and I could still turn around and run out, but my legs keep moving. I want to go to them, want to be with them. I force myself to breathe, to keep walking.