The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

When given a choice between A (telling a lie)
HYPOTHESIS:
B (telling the truth), I will inevitably end up selecting . . .
and
Chapter Twenty-Two
No. Not this time.
Olive had no doubt that Holden’s tales were highly
embellished and the result of years of comedy workshopping,
but she still couldn’t help laughing harder than ever before.
“And I’m awakened by this waterfall pouring down on me
—”
Adam rolled his eyes. “It was a drop.”
“And I’m asking myself why it’s raining inside the cabin,
when I realize that it’s coming from the top bunk and that
Adam, who was, like, thirteen at the time—”
“Six. I was six, and you were seven.”
“Had pissed the bed, and the piss was seeping through the
mattress and onto me.”
Olive’s hands flew up to cover her mouth, not quite
succeeding at hiding her amusement—just like she’d failed
when Holden had recounted that a dalmatian puppy had once
bitten Adam’s ass through his jeans, or that he’d been voted
“Most likely to make people cry” in his senior yearbook.
At least Adam didn’t act embarrassed, and not nearly as
upset as he’d seemed after Holden had talked about him pining
after her. Which explained . . . so many things.
Everything, maybe.