“Bowlby!” Levy says loudly, raising his arms like hallelujah and jerking my mind back to attention. “That is correct. For those of you who did the reading, like Max, you might recall that Bowlby believed early experiences in childhood have an important influence on our development and behavior later in life. Yes? And our attachment styles are established through the infant/caregiver relationship, or, to put it more simply, your relationship with your parents. Make sense?”
I nod and wonder briefly what happens if you barely had a child/caregiver relationship. If your mom moved halfway across the world, so you spent most afternoons putting your overweight bulldog in a tutu and pretending to interview him on Oprah.
“Can anyone tell me why we form these early bonds in the first place? What purpose they serve us?” Levy asks. He is met with silence.
“Survival,” I say without raising my hand.
Max shifts in his seat but doesn’t turn. Levy looks pleasantly surprised. “That’s right, Alice,” he says. “Care to elaborate?”
“Okay,” I say, suddenly a little self-conscious. “I mean, it’s pretty obvious, right? We’re born these tiny things, unable to do anything on our own. So we need someone to do it all for us. Attachment to another person guarantees we will always be close to someone who can do that. Who will ensure we survive.”
Levy nods. “But even though survival is the basis for these early bonds, it’s not the only positive outcome. Attachment theory supposes that the child who has a supportive and responsive caregiver develops a better sense of security. The child knows that the caregiver is dependable, which creates a base for the child to then explore the world.”
Levy turns back to the board and starts writing the stages of attachment, which is exactly the question I will get wrong on the exam, because it’s exactly the moment I start tuning out. A base from which to explore the world. I keep turning the phrase over in my head. My mom was gone by the time I turned seven, and sure my dad was there . . . he just wasn’t always well, there.
Suddenly I look up and notice Max staring at my bouncing fingers, which I didn’t even realize I’d been tapping. I slap them down flat on instinct. He looks at me quizzically and directs his gaze forward again. My whole body tingles, a combination of embarrassment and the feeling of his eyes on me.
“What about other kinds of attachment?” Leilani Mimoun says. “Like in adults?”
“Miss Mimoun!” Levy teases. “So eager to discuss that beautiful and tragic thing we call love.” He perches on the edge of his desk, his hands pressed to his heart.
Leilani blushes, removes her glasses, and starts cleaning the lenses furiously. She is totally in love with Levy. She is the first one in class and the last one to leave, never misses a homework assignment, and cleans her glasses every time he asks her a direct question.
“We’ll get to that next time,” he says. “But there are many theories. Some think love is divided in two categories: passionate and compassionate. Passionate comes first, and lasts only a few years at most, followed by compassionate, which is stronger and more durable. Others have asserted that there are three components to love, intimacy, passion, and commitment, and different combinations of these three things produce different types of love.” He draws a triangle on the board and starts writing words around it.
romantic love = passion + intimacy
liking = intimacy
empty love = just commitment
“That’s sad,” I say, before I can stop myself. “Empty love.” I can’t help but glance at Max. When I look at him, I can’t even conceive that something like empty love is possible.
“That’s BS,” Max says. And when Levy turns to him with his brows raised, he clarifies. “Why bother trying to explain something as arbitrary as love? It’s like the least definable thing in the world.”
“Don’t tell Celeste,” someone calls from the back of the room, and everyone snickers. Everyone except me. I just feel nauseous. So Max and Celeste aren’t just a couple. They’re that couple. That perfect, everyone knows us, everyone wants to be us couple. Max and I don’t even exist in the same sentence.
“It’s human nature, of course,” Levy says, ignoring the comment. “We want to define what we don’t understand. But we’ll cover that part, too. See, you guys, isn’t social psych so cool?”
We all mutter and roll our eyes as the bell rings.
“Oh, and before I forget!” Levy says loudly as people start packing up their things. “I brought you hardworking young scholars a treat. I know what you are thinking: a genius and a chef? The answer is yes. Grab one on your way out.” He produces a small Tupperware container from his desk and opens it to reveal surprisingly perfect-looking chocolate chip cookies. “And, they’re vegan!” he says.