Page 136 - The Love Hypothesis
P. 136

to figure that one out. Except that maybe you just don’t want one. Maybe

                you  just  want  to  be  on  your  own,  like  everything  about  your  behavior
                suggests, and here I am, annoying the shit out of you. I should just pocket
                my chips and my candy and go back to my stupid protein samples, but for

                some reason you are so comfortable to be around. And I am drawn to you,
                even though I don’t know why.

                    “Do you plan to stay in academia?” he asked. “After you graduate.”
                    “Yes. Maybe. No.”

                    He smiled, and Olive laughed.
                    “Undecided.”

                    “Right.”
                    “It’s just . . . there are things that I love about it. Being in the lab, doing
                research.  Coming  up  with  study  ideas,  feeling  that  I’m  doing  something

                meaningful. But if I go the academic route, then I’ll also need to do a lot of
                other things that I just . . .” She shook her head.

                    “Other things?”
                    “Yeah. The PR stuff, mostly. Write grants and convince people to fund

                my research. Network, which is a special kind of hell. Public speaking, or
                even  one-on-one  situations  where  I  have  to  impress  people.  That’s  the

                worst,  actually.  I  hate  it  so  much—my  head  explodes  and  I  freeze  and
                everyone is looking at me ready to judge me and my tongue paralyzes and I
                start wishing that I was dead and then that the world was dead and—” She

                noticed his smile and gave him a rueful look. “You get the gist.”
                    “There  are  things  you  can  do  about  that,  if  you  want.  It  just  takes

                practice. Making sure your thoughts are organized. Stuff like that.”
                    “I know. And I try to do that—I did it before my meeting with Tom. And

                I still stammered like an idiot when he asked me a simple question.” And
                then you helped me, ordered my thoughts, and saved my ass, without even

                meaning to. “I don’t know. Maybe my brain is broken.”
                    He  shook  his  head.  “You  did  great  during  that  meeting  with  Tom,
                especially considering that you were forced to have your fake boyfriend sit

                next to you.” She didn’t point out that his presence had actually made things
                better.  “Tom  certainly  seemed  impressed,  which  is  no  small  feat.  And  if
   131   132   133   134   135   136   137   138   139   140   141