The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

stricken and frantic. “I can’t.”
Dr. Aslan cocked her head and steepled her hands. The
veneer of calm her adviser projected was usually comforting,
but now it made Olive want to flip the nearest piece of
furniture.
Calm down. Deep breaths. Use your mindfulness and all
that stuff Malcolm’s always yapping his mouth about. “Dr.
Aslan, my SBD abstract was accepted as a talk. Not as a
poster, a talk. Out loud. On a panel. Standing. In front of
people.” Olive’s voice had made its way to a shriek. And yet,
for reasons beyond understanding, Dr. Aslan’s face split into a
grin.
“This is wonderful news!”
Olive blinked. And then blinked again. “It’s . . . not?”
“Nonsense.” Dr. Aslan stood and walked around her desk,
running her hand up and down Olive’s arm in what she clearly
intended as a congratulatory gesture. “This is fantastic. A talk
will give you much more visibility than a poster. You might be
able to network for a postdoctoral position. I am so, so happy
for you.”
Olive’s jaw dropped. “But . . .”
“But?”
“I cannot give a talk. I can’t talk.”
“You’re talking right now, Olive.”
“Not in front of people.”
“I am people.”
“You’re not many people. Dr. Aslan, I can’t talk in front of
a lot of people. Not about science.”
“Why?”