The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

to spending more time with you next year. Who would have
guessed that Adam had such good taste?”
“You are crazy. If you think that I’ll work in your lab, you
are—”
“Oh, Olive. But you will. Because you see—while your
work is not particularly brilliant, it does complement nicely
the ongoing projects in my lab.”
She let out a single, bitter laugh. “Are you really so
deluded that you think I would ever collaborate with you after
this?”
“Mmm. It’s more that you don’t have a choice. Because if
you want to finish your project, my lab is your only
opportunity. And if you don’t . . . well. You sent me
information on all your protocols, which means that I can
easily replicate them. But don’t worry. Maybe I’ll mention you
in the acknowledgment section.”
She felt the ground flip under her feet. “You wouldn’t,” she
whispered. “It’s research misconduct.”
“Listen, Olive. My friendly advice is: suck it up. Keep
Adam happy and interested as long as possible, and then come
to my lab to finally do some decent work. If you keep me
happy, I’ll make sure you can save the world from pancreatic
cancer. Your nice little sob story about your mom or your aunt
or your stupid kindergarten teacher dying from it is only going
to get you so far. You’re mediocre.”
Olive turned around and ran from the room.
—
WHEN SHE HEARD the beep of the key card, she immediately
wiped her face with the sleeves of her dress. It didn’t quite do
the trick: she’d been crying for a solid twenty minutes, and