Page 142 - The Love Hypothesis

He smiled faintly. And then he wasn’t smiling anymore. Not looking at

her, either, but somewhere in the direction of the crumpled plastic wrapper
that she’d tossed on the table a few minutes go.
He swallowed. She could see his jaw work.

“Olive.” He took a deep breath. “You should know that—”
“Oh my God!”

They both startled, Olive considerably more so than Adam, and turned
toward the entrance. Jeremy stood there, one hand dramatically clutching

his sternum. “You guys scared the shit out of me. What are you doing
sitting in the dark?”

What are you doing here? Olive thought ungraciously. “Just chatting,”
she said. Though it didn’t seem like a good descriptor of what was going
on. And yet, she couldn’t put her finger on why.

“You scared me,” Jeremy repeated once more. “Are you working on
your report, Ol?”

“Yeah.” She stole a quick glance at Adam, who was motionless and
expressionless next to her. “Just taking a quick break. I was about to go

back, actually.”
“Oh, cool. Me too.” Jeremy smiled, pointing in the direction of his lab.

“I need to go isolate a bunch of virgin fruit flies. Before they’re not virgins
anymore, you know?” He wiggled his eyebrows, and Olive had to force out
a small, unconvincing laugh. She usually enjoyed his sense of humor.

Usually. Now she just wished . . . She wasn’t sure what she wished. “You
coming with, Ol?”

No, I’m fine right here, actually. “Sure.” Reluctantly, she stood. Adam
did the same, gathering their wrappers and his empty bottle and sorting

them in the recycling bins.
“Have a good night, Dr. Carlsen,” Jeremy said from the entrance. Adam

just nodded at him, a touch curtly. The set of his eyes was yet again
impossible to decipher.
I guess that’s it, then, she thought. Where the weight in her chest had

come from, she had no clue. She was probably just tired. Had eaten too
much, or not enough.