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She’s got another job already. That’s Madison for you. She’s always got something on the horizon. The next big thing.”
    Antonia smiled. “I thought
she
was the next big thing.”
    “Yeah,” I said, smiling back. “She’s been the next big thing for almost twelve years.”
    “They’ll discover her one of these days. They have to.”
    “I hope so. Nobody works harder than she does to get noticed. If it never happens for her, at least it won’t be because she didn’t give it her all.”
    Antonia came a few feet farther into my classroom, stopping at the fish tank to play with the goldfish through the glass. “How are things with Bill?”
    “He dumped me. I think.”
    “Oh, no. I should stop asking you questions. It’s all bad news today.”
    “No, it’s okay. I’m kind of bummed about it, but it’s really not that big a deal. He was kind of annoying. And he was always working on his degree.”
    “You’ll meet somebody better. There’s someone for everyone.”
    I thumped the side of a stack of worksheets against the table. “Says who?” I asked teasingly.
    “Don’t you think it’s true?”
    “I think it’s kind of like your mother telling you you’re beautiful. Maybe it’s true and maybe it isn’t. People aren’t like a bag of plastic Easter eggs, where all you have to do is find the matching half.”
    She twisted a piece of hair around her finger. “Don’t be pessimistic.”
    “I’m not. I’m only being realistic. I’m at peace with it.” I smiled. “More or less.”
    From down the hall came the slow roar of kids being let in from the first bus to arrive. Antonia grimaced and hurried back toward her classroom. “See you at lunch,” I called after her.

    When I’d told Antonia that I was at peace with being alone, I’d lied. That evening I rifled through the recycling bin until I found one of Lauren’s printouts of potential men, each covered with a red X. At the top of the page was the Web site’s address: Kismet.com .
Find romance with Kismet!
read the banner ad.
Free $50 profile!
Well, it was worth a try.
    Lauren came home from the gym while I was filling out my free $50 profile. She had on a black leotard, Juicy Couture yoga pants, and a sweatband that said “Seasonale.”
    “Are you really wearing the name of your birth-control pill on your forehead?” I asked her, clicking on my answers to the personality-test questions.
    “Beats wearing your heart on your sleeve,” she answered. “Hey, you didn’t answer that one right. You do
not
‘generally make decisions quickly and decisively.’“
    “Yes, I do. I teach first grade. I make snap decisions a thousand times a day.”
    “Not in your personal life, you don’t.”
    “It doesn’t
say
personal life. It says—” I clicked the “next page” button and a string of men’s photos appeared. “Who are they?”
    “They’re your matches. They’re all customized to your personality profile and zip code.”
    I scrolled down the screen.
“Two hundred and eighteen
of them? All perfectly matched? Seriously?”
    “Yep.” She pointed to a picture of a shy-eyed, brown-haired guy. “He’s cute. Click on him.”
    I read aloud from his profile. “‘I enjoy movies, hiking, and taking my dog, Sally, on long walks through the park. My ex-girlfriend says I’m thoughtful and romantic.’ He sounds nice.”
    Lauren shook her head. “Thumbs-down. Never go out with someone who mentions their ex or names their pet. He’s already got two women in his life.”
    “Oh.”
    She pointed to a dark-haired guy with a sexy, all-white smile. “Try him.”
    “‘Hey, ladies, what can I say about myself?’“ I read. “‘I’m an average guy. I like the Redskins, the Orioles, the Capitals, and the Wizards. I’m looking for a—”
    “Don’t worry about what he’s looking for,” Lauren said quickly. “He already told you he won’t respect you in the morning and he’s unavailable fifty-two Sundays a year. Move