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let that pain of heartbreak happen again—not to me, not to anyone—as much as I could help it. Maybe it was a naive mission, to become an expert on girls, but I needed something to focus my energy on.
    Truth is, even though I haven’t spoken to Voldemort in years and she has long since gone away to college, I’m still tender. I never got a real explanation for why we broke up. I’ve dated other girls, but my heart isn’t in it because I’m too afraid to have it shattered again. Jak has been encouraging me to get back out there in a real way, but I’ve busied myself with my clients’ love lives instead.
    Maybe it’s about time I stopped making excuses and started walking the walk.

8
    THESE DAYS IT SEEMS LIKE there’s a college fair after school every week. I don’t have any practical use for them, of course, and plan on beginning my slow slide into senioritis any day now. But when the final class period bell rings, my duties as a dating guru are only just beginning. Events like these are a good opportunity to mingle with clients, potential clients, and some of their lovely female would-be companions. This afternoon is particularly important because the time has come for Reed to ask Marisol out.
    The stage in the school auditorium is packed with booths from different colleges and universities, each manned by an eager undergrad. There are more booths on the floor in front of the stage, and then there are rows of fold-down theater seats where I’m currently standing, waiting for Reed.
    I spot Adam Foster and Olivia Reyes a few rows behind me and notice that their body language does not look good. This was the couple that Mr. Kimbrough found so unbelievable that he (rightfully) assumed I had something to do with them getting together. I make a mental note to check in with Adam.
    A little closer to the stage, Marisol is chatting with Rebecca Larabie, the school president, who Jak heard through the grapevine had recently hooked up with Harrison. I assume she and Marisol know each other because Marisol is also on student government as junior-class treasurer. Marisol looks like she’s in a good mood, which is not always readily evident because her eyebrows naturally arch like a telenovela villain’s. This is great news for Reed.
    Finally the man himself arrives in a tizzy.
    â€œI’m only five minutes late,” Reed says, a bit flustered. “And I’m not sorry.”
    I smile. Reed is proving to be a model pupil. I imagine he spent the morning before school primping and prepping for hours in front of a mirror, getting ready for this moment. I sniff him.
    â€œPerfect amount of cologne,” I observe.
    â€œI did what you said. I sprayed it away from me and then just walked through the cloud once.”
    â€œExcellent,” I say. “You smell good. But not too good.”
    I give Reed a once-over. Look, he’s still a nerd. But the plan isn’t to turn him into something he’s not. It’s to turnhim into the best version of himself. To make him feel like he can take on the world. And with new jeans, a decent haircut, and a T-shirt that actually fits him instead of drooping off his bony shoulders like it’s still on the hanger, I think we did pretty well.
    â€œNice belt,” I say with a smirk.
    â€œIs Marisol here?” Reed asks.
    â€œThere. Next to Rebecca.”
    We both glance over at them from a distance. Marisol is gregarious and comfortable in her own skin. Everything Reed wishes he could be. He lets out a long sigh, like all the confidence just left his body.
    â€œReed, you got this. I promise. Just remember everything we’ve talked about the past few weeks. Trust the Galgorithm.”
    He steels himself. “Okay. What’s our point of entry?”
    â€œI’m gonna run a wedge to remove Rebecca from the equation. Once she’s separated, all you have to do is swoop in and engage with