The Love Meter

Rhonda had always known love was real—she felt it every time Hampton, the boy next door, flashed his lopsided grin while tossing a football in his yard. But she never imagined it could be measured, like temperature or rainfall, until the day Molly showed up at school with the device.


It was a sleek little thing, no bigger than a phone, with a screen that glowed faintly purple. Molly called it the "Affector," a prototype her engineer dad had built. “It reads love,” she’d said, smirking as she waved it around the cafeteria. “Real-time emotional radiation. The stronger the feeling, the brighter it glows.” The idea was wild—love as a tangible, detectable wave, spilling out of people like heat from a radiator. Rhonda had rolled her eyes with the rest of the crowd, but secretly, her heart thudded. What if it could see what she’d buried for years?


That Friday, Molly brought the Affector to Jake’s house party. The basement was packed—music thumping, lights dim, kids sprawled across mismatched couches. Rhonda lingered near the snack table, sneaking glances at Hampton. He was leaning against the wall, laughing at something his friend said, his dark hair falling into his eyes. She wondered if he ever noticed her the way she noticed him—the way her chest tightened when he waved from his porch or asked to borrow her notes.


“Okay, who’s first?” Molly shouted, holding up the Affector. The room buzzed with nervous laughter. She pointed it at Jake and his girlfriend, Lila, who were tangled up on the couch. The screen flared a deep magenta, pulsing steadily. “Whoa, you two are radiating—8.3 out of 10!”


Cheers erupted. Molly swung it toward a group of single guys by the speakers; it flickered a weak blue. “Barely a 2. Oof, try harder.”


Rhonda shrank back, clutching her soda. She didn’t want that thing anywhere near her—not with Hampton ten feet away. But Molly had other plans. “Rhonda! Come on, you’re next!” Before she could protest, Molly aimed the Affector at her. The screen blinked, then erupted in a vivid crimson glow, brighter than Jake and Lila’s. A ripple of gasps spread through the room.


“Holy—9.1!” Molly crowed. “Who’s it for, Rhonda? Spill!” Rhonda’s face burned. She darted a glance at Hampton, praying he wouldn’t connect the dots. But then Molly spun around, scanning the crowd like a predator. “Let’s find the target. Reciprocal signals lock in the highest readings.”


Hampton stepped forward, hands in his pockets, a shy grin tugging at his lips. “Try me,” he said, his voice casual but his eyes flickering to Rhonda. Molly didn’t hesitate. She pointed the Affector at him, and the screen blazed again—crimson, pulsing, a perfect match. 9.1. The room went silent for a heartbeat, then exploded in whoops and whistles.


“Wait,” Molly said, squinting at the device. “It’s directional. Look.” She pivoted it between Rhonda and Hampton, and the glow intensified, arrows on the screen pointing straight at each of them. “You’re beaming at each other. Full sync!”


Rhonda wanted to melt into the floor. Hampton scratched the back of his neck, his cheeks reddening. “Uh… guess it’s not a secret anymore,” he muttered, meeting her gaze. The crowd hooted, but all Rhonda could hear was her own heartbeat. He stepped closer, the Affector’s glow reflecting in his eyes.


“Rhonda,” he said softly, “I’ve kinda… you know, for a while.” He didn’t finish, but he didn’t need to. The device was still humming, its light unwavering.


She swallowed, her voice barely a whisper. “Me too.”


Molly smirked, pocketing the Affector. “Told you it works. You’re welcome.” The party roared back to life around them, but for Rhonda and Hampton, it was just the two of them, standing in a pool of crimson light—love, measured and undeniable, finally out in the open.