THE CODE FOR LOVE AND HEARTBREAK
Author: Jillian Cantor
ISBN: 9781335090591
Publication Date: October 6, 2020
Publisher: Inkyard Press
In
this contemporary romcom retelling of Jane Austen’s Emma by
USA TODAY bestselling author Jillian Cantor, there’s nothing more complex—or
unpredictable—than love.
BOOK SUMMARY:
When math genius Emma and her coding club
co-president, George, are tasked with brainstorming a new project, The Code for
Love is born.
George disapproves of Emma’s idea of creating a matchmaking app, accusing her of meddling in people’s lives. But all the happy new couples at school are proof that the app works. At least at first.
Emma’s code is flawless. So why is it that perfectly matched couples start breaking up, the wrong people keep falling for each other, and Emma’s own feelings defy any algorithm?
George disapproves of Emma’s idea of creating a matchmaking app, accusing her of meddling in people’s lives. But all the happy new couples at school are proof that the app works. At least at first.
Emma’s code is flawless. So why is it that perfectly matched couples start breaking up, the wrong people keep falling for each other, and Emma’s own feelings defy any algorithm?
EXCERPT
PROLOGUE
I’ve always loved numbers a whole lot more
than I love people. For one thing, I can make numbers behave any way I want
them to. No arguments, no questions. I write a line of code, and my computer
performs a specific and very regulated task. Numbers don’t play games or hide
behind some nuance I’ve missed. I write an equation, then formulate a
definitive and absolutely correct answer.
And maybe most importantly, numbers
never leave me. I tell this to Izzy as she’s sitting on her suitcase, trying to
force it closed, having just packed the last of her closet before leaving for
her freshman year at UCLA, which is exactly 2,764 miles from our house in
Highbury, New Jersey. A number which seems insurmountable, and which makes me
think that after this day, Izzy’s last one at home until Christmas break, we’ll
be more like two strangers floating across a continent from one another than
sisters.
“Numbers,” I say to Izzy now, “are much better
than people.”
“You’re such a nerd, Em,” Izzy says, but she
stops what she’s doing and squeezes my arm affectionately, before finally
getting the suitcase to zip. She’s a nerd, too, but not for numbers like me—for
books. Izzy is running 2,764 miles away from New Jersey to read,
to major in English at UCLA. Which is ridiculous, given she could’ve done the
same at Rutgers, or the College of New Jersey, or almost any one of the other
sixty-two colleges in our state, any of which would’ve been within driving
distance so we could’ve seen each other on weekends. Izzy says she’s going to
California for the sunshine, but Dad and I both know the real reason is that
her boyfriend, John, decided to go to UCLA to study film. Izzy chose John over
me, and that part stings the most.
“I can’t believe you’re actually
going,” I say, and not for the first time. I’ve been saying this to Izzy all
summer, hoping she might change her mind. But now that her suitcase is zipped,
it feels like she’s really leaving, and my eyes start to well up. I do love numbers
more than people. Most people.
Izzy and I are only seventeen months apart,
and our mom died when we were both toddlers. Dad works a lot, and Izzy and I
have barely been apart for more than a night in as long as I can remember, much
less months.
She stops messing with her suitcase now, walks
over to where I’m sitting on her bed and puts her arm around me. I lean my head
on her shoulder, and breathe in the comforting scent of her strawberry shampoo,
one last time. “I’m going to miss you, too, Em,” she says. “But you’re going to
have a great senior year.” She says it emphatically, her voice filled with
enthusiasm that I don’t believe or even understand.
“You really could stay,” I say.
“You got into two colleges in New Jersey.” This has been my argument to her all
summer. I keep thinking if I say it enough she really will change her mind. But
even as I say it, I know it’s probably too late for her to change anything for
fall semester now, no matter how much I might want her to. And she just looks
back at me with worry all over her face.
“Em, you know I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?” I wipe my nose
with the back of my hand, pulling away from her.
She leaves me on her bed, and goes
back to her suitcase. She shifts it around, props it upright and then looks back
at me. “You know what you need?” she says, breathing hard from managing the
weight of her entire life, crammed inside this giant suitcase. “To get out
there this year. Be more social. Get some friends. Maybe even a boyfriend.”
“A boyfriend?” I half laugh, half sniffle at
the ridiculousness of it.
“If you keep busy, you won’t even
notice I’m gone.” She speaks quickly, excitedly. There’s nothing Izzy likes
more than a good plan, but this sounds terrible to me. “Christmas will be here
before you know it—” she’s still talking “—then next year, you’ll be off to
college, too.”
Maybe that would be true for her, if I were
the one leaving, and if she were staying here. If I were the older one, leaving
for California first, Izzy would stay here, spend the year with John and barely
even notice my absence. Which is what I guess she’s about to do at UCLA. But
I’ve always needed Izzy much more than she’s needed me.
“I hate being social. And I don’t
want a boyfriend,” I say. “And anyway, you know what the boys are like at our
high school. No thanks.” Mostly, they’re intimidated by me and my penchant for
math, and I find their intimidation so annoying that I can barely even stand to
have a conversation with them, much less a date. And the few that aren’t? Well,
the one that isn’t—George—is my equal and co-president of coding club. He also
happens to be John’s younger brother. We’re something like friends, George and
I. Or maybe not, because we don’t really hang out outside of family stuff,
school or coding club, and I guess in a way we’re supposed to be rivals. One of
us will for certain be valedictorian of our class this year. The other will be
salutatorian. And knowing George, he’s going to be more than a little bit
annoyed when he’s staring at my back during graduation.
“You love numbers so much and
you’re so good at coding,” Izzy says now with a flip of her blond curls over
her shoulder. She wheels the suitcase toward her bedroom door and stops and
looks back at me. “You could always code yourself a boyfriend.” She shrugs,
then laughs a little, trying to make this moment lighter.
I don’t even crack a smile. “That’s
a really ridiculous thing to say,” I tell her. “Thank God you’re going to be an
English major.”
But later, after it all fell apart, I would
blame her. I’d say that it was all Izzy’s fault, that she started the
unraveling of everything with her one stupid offhand comment on the morning
that she left me.
Excerpted from The Code For Love and Heartbreak by Jillian
Cantor Copyright © Jillian Cantor. Published by Inkyard Press.
BIO:
Jillian
Cantor is the author of award-winning and
bestselling novels for adults and teens, including In Another Time, The Hours Count,
Margot, and The
Lost Letter, which was a USA
Today bestseller. She has a BA in English from Penn State
University and an MFA from the University of Arizona. Cantor lives in Arizona
with her husband and two sons.
SOCIAL:
Author
Website: https://www.jilliancantor.com/
TWITTER:
@JillianCantor
Facebook:
@AuthorJillianCantor
Insta:
@JillianCantor
BUY
LINKS:
No comments:
Post a Comment