Page 44 - The Love Hypothesis

“I thought we were friends.”

“We are.”
“Good friends.”
“We are. You and Anh are my best friends. What—”

“Clearly not, if I had to hear it from Stella, who heard it from Jess, who
heard it from Jeremy, who heard it from Anh—”

“Hear what?”
“—who heard it from I don’t even know who. And I thought we were

friends.”
Something icy crawled its way up Olive’s back. Could it be . . . No. No,

it couldn’t be. “Hear what?”
“I’m done. I’m letting the cockroaches eat you. And I’m changing my
Netflix password.”

Oh no. “Malcolm. Hear what?”
“That you are dating Adam Carlsen.”

—

OLIVE HAD NEVER been in Carlsen’s lab, but she knew where to find it. It was

the biggest, most functional research space in the whole department,
coveted by all and a never-ending source of resentment toward Carlsen. She

had to swipe her badge once and then once more to access it (she rolled her
eyes both times). The second door opened directly onto the lab space, and

maybe it was because he was as tall as Mount Everest and his shoulders
were just as large, but Carlsen was the very first thing she noticed. He was

peering at a Southern blot next to Alex, a grad who was one year ahead of
Olive, but he turned toward the entrance the moment she came in.
Olive smiled weakly at him—mainly out of relief at having found him.

It was going to be all right. She was going to explain to him what
Malcolm had told her, and without a doubt he was going to find the

situation categorically unacceptable and fix it for the both of them, because
Olive could not spend her next three years surrounded by people who

thought that she was dating Adam freaking Carlsen.