The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood
“Hold on. Is there Wi-Fi here?”“Ol, do you have internet?”Olive wiped her hands on a napkin that looked mostlyunused. “I left my phone in Malcolm’s car.”She turned her head away from Anh and Jeremy, who werenow studying the screen of Jeremy’s iPhone, until she had agood view of the Ultimate Frisbee group—fourteen men andzero women. It probably had to do with the general excess oftestosterone in STEM programs. At least half the players werefaculty or postdocs. Adam, of course, and Tom, and Dr.Rodrigues, and several others from pharmacology. All equallyshirtless. Though, no. Not equal at all. There was reallynothing equal about Adam.Olive wasn’t like this. She really was not. She could countthe number of guys she’d been this viscerally attracted to onone hand. Actually—on one finger. And at the moment saidguy was running toward her, because Tom Benton, bless hisheart, had just thrown the Frisbee way too clumsily, and it wasnow in a patch of grass approximately ten feet from Olive.And Adam, shirtless Adam, just happened to be the oneclosest to where it landed.“Oh, check out this paper.” Jeremy sounded excited.“Khalesi et al., 2013. It’s a meta-analysis. ‘Cutaneousmarkers of photo-damage and risk of basal cell carcinoma ofthe skin.’ In Cancer Epidemiology, Biomarkers & Prevention.”Jeremy fist-pumped. “Olive, are you listening to this?”Nope. No, she was not. She was mostly trying to empty herbrain, and her eyes, too. Of her fake boyfriend and the suddenwarm ache in her stomach. She just wished she wereelsewhere. That she were temporarily blind and deaf.“Hear this: solar lentigines had weak but positiveassociations with basal cell carcinoma, with odds ratios around
1.5. Okay, I don’t like this. Jeremy, hold the phone. I’m givingOlive more sunscreen. Here’s SPF fifty; it’s probably what youneed.”Olive tore her eyes from Adam’s chest, now alarminglyclose, and turned around, stepping away from Anh. “Wait. Ialready put some on.”“Ol,” Anh told her, with that sensible, motherly tone sheused whenever Olive slipped and confessed that she mostlygot her veggie servings from french fries, or that she washedher colors and whites in the same load. “You know theliterature.”“I do not know the literature, and neither do you, you justknow one line from one abstract and—”Anh grabbed Olive’s hand again and poured half a gallonof lotion in it. So much of it that Olive had to use her left palmto prevent it from spilling over—until she was just standingthere like an idiot, her hands cupped like a beggar as she halfdrowned in goddamn sunscreen.“Here you go.” Anh smiled brightly. “Now you can protectyourself from basal cell carcinoma. Which, frankly, soundsawful.”“I . . .” Olive would have face-palmed, if she’d had thefreedom to move her upper limbs. “I hate sunscreen. It’s stickyand it makes me smell like a piña colada and—this is way toomuch.”“Just put on as much as your skin will absorb. Especiallyaround the freckled areas. The rest, you can share withsomeone.”“Okay. Anh, then, you take some. You too, Jeremy. You’rea ginger, for God’s sake.”“A redhead with no freckles, though.” He smiled proudly,like he’d created his genotype all on his own. “And I already
- 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
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- 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
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- Page 110 and 111: “Hey—sorry.” She gestured in
- Page 112 and 113: Because millions of dollars in rese
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- Page 116 and 117: pitch her voice. “Or do you maybe
- Page 118 and 119: Cherie just standing there, chattin
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- Page 122 and 123: this time with the sleeve of his sh
- Page 124 and 125: “The— Oh.” Adam rolled his ey
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- Page 129 and 130: “Yeah, well.” He stood and walk
- Page 131: Olive: Did you just fail Greg?trick
- Page 137 and 138: In the back seat Olive and Jeremy e
- Page 139: a six-pack?”Jeremy blinked. “Mi
- 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
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- Page 156 and 157: “Can’t stand chocolate.”Olive
- Page 158 and 159: He glared, but she was starting to
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- 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.
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- Page 181 and 182: you need to get over it. For scienc
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1.5. Okay, I don’t like this. Jeremy, hold the phone. I’m giving
Olive more sunscreen. Here’s SPF fifty; it’s probably what you
need.”
Olive tore her eyes from Adam’s chest, now alarmingly
close, and turned around, stepping away from Anh. “Wait. I
already put some on.”
“Ol,” Anh told her, with that sensible, motherly tone she
used whenever Olive slipped and confessed that she mostly
got her veggie servings from french fries, or that she washed
her colors and whites in the same load. “You know the
literature.”
“I do not know the literature, and neither do you, you just
know one line from one abstract and—”
Anh grabbed Olive’s hand again and poured half a gallon
of lotion in it. So much of it that Olive had to use her left palm
to prevent it from spilling over—until she was just standing
there like an idiot, her hands cupped like a beggar as she half
drowned in goddamn sunscreen.
“Here you go.” Anh smiled brightly. “Now you can protect
yourself from basal cell carcinoma. Which, frankly, sounds
awful.”
“I . . .” Olive would have face-palmed, if she’d had the
freedom to move her upper limbs. “I hate sunscreen. It’s sticky
and it makes me smell like a piña colada and—this is way too
much.”
“Just put on as much as your skin will absorb. Especially
around the freckled areas. The rest, you can share with
someone.”
“Okay. Anh, then, you take some. You too, Jeremy. You’re
a ginger, for God’s sake.”
“A redhead with no freckles, though.” He smiled proudly,
like he’d created his genotype all on his own. “And I already
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