The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood
“Melanoma. Put on some sunscreen.”“I will, Mom.” Olive smiled. “Can I eat first?”“Eat what? There’s nothing left. Oh, there’s some cornbread over there.”“Oh, cool. Pass it over.”“Don’t eat the corn bread, guys.” Jeremy’s head popped upbetween Olive and Anh. “Jess said that a pharmacology firstyearsneezed all over it. Where did Malcolm go?”“Parking— Holy. Shit.”Olive looked up from her perusal of the table, alarmed bythe urgency in Anh’s tone. “What?”“Just, holy shit.”“Yeah, what—”“Holy shit.”“You mentioned that already.”“Because—holy shit.”She glanced around, trying to figure out what was goingon. “What is— Oh, there’s Malcolm. Maybe he foundsomething to eat?”“Is that Carlsen?”Olive was already walking toward Malcolm to findsomething edible and skip the whole sunscreen nonsensealtogether, but when she heard Adam’s name, she stoppeddead in her tracks. Or maybe it wasn’t Adam’s name but theway Anh was saying it. “What? Where?”Jeremy pointed at the Ultimate Frisbee crowd. “That’s him,right? Shirtless?”“Holy shit,” Anh repeated, her vocabulary suddenly prettylimited, given her twentysomething years of education. “Is that
a six-pack?”Jeremy blinked. “Might even be an eight-pack.”“Are those his real shoulders?” Anh asked. “Did he haveshoulder-enhancement surgery?”“That must be how he used the MacArthur grant,” Jeremysaid. “I don’t think shoulders like that exist in nature.”“God, is that Carlsen’s chest?” Malcolm leaned his chinover Olive’s shoulder. “Was that thing under his shirt while hewas ripping my dissertation proposal a new one? Ol. Whydidn’t you say that he was shredded?”Olive just stood there, rooted to the ground, arms danglinguselessly at her sides. Because I didn’t know. Because I had noidea. Or maybe she had, a bit, from seeing him push that truckthe other day—though she’d been trying to suppress thatparticular mental image.“Unbelievable.” Anh pulled Olive’s hand toward herself,overturning it to squirt a healthy dose of lotion on her palm.“Here, put this on your shoulders. And your legs. And yourface, too—you’re probably at high risk for all sorts of skinstuff, Freckles McFreckleface. Jer, you too.”Olive nodded numbly and began to massage the sunscreeninto her arms and thighs. She breathed in the smell of coconutoil, trying hard not to think about Adam and about the fact thathe really did look like that. Mostly failing, but hey.“Are there actual studies?” Jeremy asked.“Mmm?” Anh was pulling her hair up in a bun.“On the link between freckles and skin cancer.”“I don’t know.”“Feels like there would be.”“True. I wanna know now.”
- Page 87 and 88: WAS LATE for her second fake-dating
- Page 89 and 90: “I worked.”They got in line to
- Page 91 and 92: department chair this morning. He
- Page 93 and 94: “Is that so?”“Mmm.”His mout
- Page 95 and 96: “The time difference screwed me u
- Page 97 and 98: that he wasn’t planning to. Olive
- Page 99 and 100: “That is, I, um . . . never put t
- Page 101 and 102: “What kind of question is that?
- Page 103 and 104: “Who?”“Tom,” Adam said, a t
- Page 105 and 106: Olive had no idea he was giving a t
- Page 107: Adam laughed silently just as Tom s
- Page 110 and 111: “Hey—sorry.” She gestured in
- Page 112 and 113: Because millions of dollars in rese
- Page 114 and 115: torso. He didn’t say anything but
- Page 116 and 117: pitch her voice. “Or do you maybe
- Page 118 and 119: Cherie just standing there, chattin
- Page 120 and 121: “Because you moved the truck. I
- Page 122 and 123: this time with the sleeve of his sh
- Page 124 and 125: “The— Oh.” Adam rolled his ey
- Page 127 and 128: with an uneasy expression and start
- Page 129 and 130: “Yeah, well.” He stood and walk
- Page 131: Olive: Did you just fail Greg?trick
- Page 137: In the back seat Olive and Jeremy e
- Page 141 and 142: 1.5. Okay, I don’t like this. Jer
- Page 143 and 144: had a choice. Any choice. Especiall
- Page 145 and 146: “So.” Her mouth was dry. “Thi
- Page 147 and 148: She pinched him lightly on the unde
- Page 149 and 150: Adam nodded, Tom spun around and he
- Page 151: “What? No.”“Because that’s
- Page 154 and 155: “Should you be having caffeine at
- Page 156 and 157: “Can’t stand chocolate.”Olive
- Page 158 and 159: He glared, but she was starting to
- Page 160 and 161: “There are things you can do abou
- Page 162 and 163: the person she loved the most, but
- Page 164 and 165: He nodded, thoughtful. “You’re
- Page 166 and 167: jeans. “We’re friends. We weren
- Page 169 and 170: Olive: Tom just invited me to your
- Page 171 and 172: she’d sent. “To make sure I und
- Page 173 and 174: Once they were in Adam’s car—a
- Page 175 and 176: Adam was still around. The reason s
- Page 177 and 178: “I will if you get pumpkin stuff.
- Page 179 and 180: “It literally takes ten minutes.
- Page 181 and 182: you need to get over it. For scienc
- Page 183: Chapter TenHYPOTHESIS: If I fall in
a six-pack?”
Jeremy blinked. “Might even be an eight-pack.”
“Are those his real shoulders?” Anh asked. “Did he have
shoulder-enhancement surgery?”
“That must be how he used the MacArthur grant,” Jeremy
said. “I don’t think shoulders like that exist in nature.”
“God, is that Carlsen’s chest?” Malcolm leaned his chin
over Olive’s shoulder. “Was that thing under his shirt while he
was ripping my dissertation proposal a new one? Ol. Why
didn’t you say that he was shredded?”
Olive just stood there, rooted to the ground, arms dangling
uselessly at her sides. Because I didn’t know. Because I had no
idea. Or maybe she had, a bit, from seeing him push that truck
the other day—though she’d been trying to suppress that
particular mental image.
“Unbelievable.” Anh pulled Olive’s hand toward herself,
overturning it to squirt a healthy dose of lotion on her palm.
“Here, put this on your shoulders. And your legs. And your
face, too—you’re probably at high risk for all sorts of skin
stuff, Freckles McFreckleface. Jer, you too.”
Olive nodded numbly and began to massage the sunscreen
into her arms and thighs. She breathed in the smell of coconut
oil, trying hard not to think about Adam and about the fact that
he really did look like that. Mostly failing, but hey.
“Are there actual studies?” Jeremy asked.
“Mmm?” Anh was pulling her hair up in a bun.
“On the link between freckles and skin cancer.”
“I don’t know.”
“Feels like there would be.”
“True. I wanna know now.”
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