Page 128 - The Love Hypothesis

“Carlsen. Oh, actually”—Anh smirked—“I meant to say Adam. You call

him Adam, right? Or do you prefer Dr. Carlsen? If you guys role-play with
schoolgirl uniforms and rulers, I totally want to hear about it.”
“Anh.”

“Yeah, how is Carlsen?” Jeremy asked. “I’m assuming he’s different
with you than with us. Or does he also tell you repeatedly that the font for

the labels of your x- and y-axis is irritatingly small?”
Olive smiled into her knees, because she could totally imagine Adam

saying that. Could almost hear his voice in her head. “No. Not yet, at least.”
“What’s he like, then?”

She opened her mouth to answer, thinking it would be easy. Of course, it
was everything but. “He’s just . . . you know.”
“We don’t,” Anh said. “There must be more to him than meets the eye.

He’s so moody and negative and angry and—”
“He’s not,” Olive interrupted. And then regretted it a little, because it

wasn’t entirely true. “He can be. But he can not be, too.”
“If you say so.” Anh seemed unconvinced. “How did you even start

dating? You never told me.”
“Oh.” Olive looked away and let her gaze wander. Adam must have just

done something noteworthy, because he and Dr. Rodrigues were
exchanging a high five. She noticed Tom staring at her from the field and
waved at him with a smile. “Um, we just talked. And then got coffee. And

then . . .”
“How does that even happen?” Jeremy interrupted, clearly skeptical.

“How does one decide to say yes to a date with Carlsen? Before seeing him
half-naked, anyway.”

You kiss him. You kiss him, and then, next thing you know, he’s saving
your ass and he’s buying you scones and calling you a smart-ass in a

weirdly affectionate tone, and even when he’s being his moody asshole self,
he doesn’t seem to be that bad. Or bad at all. And then you tell him to fuck
off over the phone and possibly ruin everything.

“He just asked me out. And I said yes.” Though it was obviously a lie.
Someone with a Lancet publication and back muscles that defined would