The Soulmate Equation

Jess laughed, and his big hand came around hers, guiding her through the maze of tables and exhibits, knowing exactly where to go because he’d been here at one o’clock that afternoon helping Juno set up. For almost a month, River and Juno had worked tirelessly on the roller coaster. To suggest that he had grown more invested in it than Juno had would be unfair—she was, after all, often found awake when she was supposed to be in bed, triple-checking the glue on any one of the two thousand points of contact between all of the Popsicle sticks—but he had also been predictably intense about it. They had abandoned the art tape for something sturdier (read: bigger and faster), and had built four different cars to test on the coaster before finally settling on wheels that had to be ordered from Germany. In the hall closet, Jess now had three remaining boxes of HO-gauge model train track she had no idea what she would do with.

In the end, the coaster was more than four feet long and two feet tall. It had been painstaking work, and after a few nights of watching them with ovary-bursting bliss, Jess had finally registered that her presence wasn’t at all needed and spent the time happily reading or watching her shows alone in bed. When the project had finally been completed three nights ago, River took them both for ice cream to celebrate.

So she knew better than to think even GeneticAlly’s official IPO the next day would keep him away. Still, they had a company dinner tonight, and she expected River to be at the office until well past midnight—and probably gone again before Jess was awake. The starting price for the stock was higher than even the underwriter had dreamed it could be, and everyone was on tenterhooks hoping it wouldn’t drop in the aftermarket. If it held steady, or climbed, the original GeneticAlly team—minus David, Brandon, and Tiffany, who’d breached an important contractual clause—would each be worth tens of millions overnight.

“What time do you need to leave?” she asked.

He shrugged distractedly, and she wasn’t able to pester an answer out of him because then they were at Juno’s table, and both River and Juno were beaming with such pride that for a second Jess wanted to ask whose second-grade art-science assignment it had been. But how could she tease those faces? As parents, teachers, and fellow students came around the room to hear Juno’s presentation—River was obediently quiet but stood proudly nearby—Jess felt the weight of the past few months press down on her chest like a sandbag. Destiny could also be a choice, she’d realized. To believe or not, to be vulnerable or not, to go all in or not. Tears pricked the surface of her eyes and she turned to Fizzy, pretending an eyelash had gotten in one. Fizzy, to her credit, pulled a tissue and a mirror out of her purse, allowing Jess her dignity.

“He’s pretty amazing,” Fizzy agreed in a whisper. She watched River without a trace of tightness or envy in her expression; after moving on from the Rob debacle, Fizzy had realized she was ready for the real deal, updated her DNADuo criteria, and was confident her own Titanium-or-higher wasn’t too far away.

When the judges were finished viewing the projects and tabulating the scores, students were encouraged to find their families and wait in the auditorium for results.

It was a familiar scene: rows of folding chairs and excited chatter. Younger kids darted between the aisles while parents took time to catch up with each other. It wasn’t too far in the rearview mirror when a night like this would have stoked the embers of loneliness and been followed by days of smoldering in her own insistence that Single Was Better. But tonight, she felt like the contented heart of a very sturdy family. Her perfect village took up an entire row: Nana Jo and Pops at the end of the aisle with Nana’s scooter; Fizzy on her left, and River, then Juno on her right. No buffer zone of empty chairs anymore.

“I’m not saying the other projects weren’t great,” River said, leaning in to whisper. “I mean, some were terrible, and some were great, but completely objectively Juno should win this thing.”

“Completely objectively, huh?” Jess bit back a laugh. River’s competitive streak ran deep; second-grade art-science competitions were apparently not immune. “Win or lose, I’m impressed with you both.” She pulled back his sleeve, glancing at his watch. It was already six thirty. “Don’t you have to leave soon?”

He followed her attention to his wrist. A couple of months ago, Jess imagined, River would have bolted up at the sight of the time. But he just exhaled, calculating, and said, “They’re about to do the awards. I’ll leave after that.”