The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

jeans. “We’re friends. We weren’t when we started, but we are
now. You can tell me.”
“Are we?”
She nodded. Yes. Yes, we are. Come on. “Well, you did just
break one of the sacred tenets of academic friendships by
mentioning my graduation timeline. But I’ll forgive you if you
tell me if this is really better for you than . . . you know,
getting a real girlfriend.”
“It is.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” He seemed honest. He was honest. Adam was not a
liar; Olive would bet her life on it.
“Why, though? Do you enjoy the sunscreen-mediated
fondling? And the opportunity to donate hundreds of your
dollars to the campus Starbucks?”
He smiled faintly. And then he wasn’t smiling anymore.
Not looking at her, either, but somewhere in the direction of
the crumpled plastic wrapper that she’d tossed on the table a
few minutes go.
He swallowed. She could see his jaw work.
“Olive.” He took a deep breath. “You should know that—”
“Oh my God!”
They both startled, Olive considerably more so than Adam,
and turned toward the entrance. Jeremy stood there, one hand
dramatically clutching his sternum. “You guys scared the shit
out of me. What are you doing sitting in the dark?”
What are you doing here? Olive thought ungraciously.
“Just chatting,” she said. Though it didn’t seem like a good
descriptor of what was going on. And yet, she couldn’t put her
finger on why.