The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood
more . . . connected than I originally suspected. Stunning plottwist, I know. Reike wasn’t nearly as distraught: when Ifrantically explained that “Pigs have families, too. A mom anda dad and siblings that will miss them,” she just noddedthoughtfully and said, “What you’re saying is, we should eatthe whole family?” I went fully vegan a couple of years later.Meanwhile, my sister has made it her life’s goal to eat enoughanimal products for two. Together we emit one normalperson’s carbon footprint.“The engineering labs are down this hallway,” Guy says.The space is an interesting mix of glass and wood, and I cansee inside some of the rooms. “A bit cluttered, and mostpeople are off today—we’re shuffling around equipment andreorganizing the space. We’ve got lots of ongoing projects, butBLINK’s everyone’s favorite child. The other astronauts popby every once in a while just to ask how much longer it will beuntil their fancy swag is ready.”I grin. “For real?”“Yep.”Making fancy swag for astronauts is my literal jobdescription. I can add it to my LinkedIn profile. Not thatanyone uses LinkedIn.“The neuroscience labs—your labs—will be on the right.This way there are—” His phone rings. “Sorry—mind if I takeit?”“Not at all.” I smile at his beaver phone case (“Nature’sEngineer”) and look away.I wonder whether Guy would think I’m lame if I snapped afew pictures of the building for my friends. I decide that I canlive with that, but when I take out my phone, I hear a noisefrom down the hallway. It’s soft and chirpy, and sounds a lotlike a . . .
“Meow.”I glance back at Guy. He’s busy explaining how to put onMoana to someone very young, so I decide to investigate.Most of the rooms are deserted, labs full of large, abstruseequipment that looks like it belongs to . . . well. NASA. I hearmale voices somewhere in the building, but no sign of the—“Meow.”I turn around. A few feet away, staring at me with a curiousexpression, is a beautiful young calico.“And who might you be?” I slowly hold out my hand. Thekitten comes closer, delicately sniffs my fingers, and gives mea welcoming headbutt.I laugh. “You’re such a sweet girl.” I squat down to scratchher under her chin. She nips my finger, a playful love bite.“Aren’t you the most purr-fect little baby? I feel so fur-tunateto have met you.”She gives me a disdainful look and turns away. I think sheunderstands puns.“Come on, I was just kitten.” Another outraged glare. Thenshe jumps on a nearby cart, piled ceiling-high with boxes andheavy, precarious-looking equipment. “Where are you going?”I squint, trying to figure out where she disappeared, andthat’s when I realize it. The piece of equipment? Theprecarious-looking one? It actually is precarious. And the catpoked it just enough to dislodge it. And it’s falling on myhead.Right.About.Now.I have less than three seconds to move away. Which is toobad, because my entire body is suddenly made of stone,
- Page 345 and 346: Chapter TwentyHYPOTHESIS: People wh
- Page 347 and 348: In a lie.A lie, after a lot of lies
- Page 349 and 350: Olive closed her eyes and nodded, t
- Page 351 and 352: Cherie’s truck, and she almost la
- Page 353: Wearing expired contact lenses will
- Page 356 and 357: “Good,” he replied with a half
- Page 359 and 360: “Uh . . .” Adam’s frown deepe
- Page 361 and 362: “It will be horrific—”A throa
- Page 363 and 364: seventeen databases and built machi
- Page 365 and 366: When given a choice between A (tell
- Page 367 and 368: else to do it?’ I think my cookie
- Page 369 and 370: You can fall in love: someone will
- Page 371 and 372: faint yellow lights. “And I’d b
- Page 373 and 374: “No,” she repeated, pensive.
- Page 375 and 376: “I think that somewhere along the
- Page 378 and 379: He rolled his eyes. “What’s you
- Page 380 and 381: Author’s NoteI write stories set
- Page 382 and 383: AcknowledgmentsFirst, just allow me
- Page 384 and 385: Don’t missLove on the Braincoming
- Page 386: shrooms they just purchased from a
- Page 394 and 395: “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, bu
- Page 398 and 399: unresponsive to my brain’s comman
- Page 400: Photo courtesy of the authorAli Haz
more . . . connected than I originally suspected. Stunning plot
twist, I know. Reike wasn’t nearly as distraught: when I
frantically explained that “Pigs have families, too. A mom and
a dad and siblings that will miss them,” she just nodded
thoughtfully and said, “What you’re saying is, we should eat
the whole family?” I went fully vegan a couple of years later.
Meanwhile, my sister has made it her life’s goal to eat enough
animal products for two. Together we emit one normal
person’s carbon footprint.
“The engineering labs are down this hallway,” Guy says.
The space is an interesting mix of glass and wood, and I can
see inside some of the rooms. “A bit cluttered, and most
people are off today—we’re shuffling around equipment and
reorganizing the space. We’ve got lots of ongoing projects, but
BLINK’s everyone’s favorite child. The other astronauts pop
by every once in a while just to ask how much longer it will be
until their fancy swag is ready.”
I grin. “For real?”
“Yep.”
Making fancy swag for astronauts is my literal job
description. I can add it to my LinkedIn profile. Not that
anyone uses LinkedIn.
“The neuroscience labs—your labs—will be on the right.
This way there are—” His phone rings. “Sorry—mind if I take
it?”
“Not at all.” I smile at his beaver phone case (“Nature’s
Engineer”) and look away.
I wonder whether Guy would think I’m lame if I snapped a
few pictures of the building for my friends. I decide that I can
live with that, but when I take out my phone, I hear a noise
from down the hallway. It’s soft and chirpy, and sounds a lot
like a . . .
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