Page 94 - The Love Hypothesis

“Aww, Daddy.”

There was nowhere to sit, of course, not even on the floor or on the
steps. Olive spotted Adam in an aisle seat a few meters away. He was back
to his usual black Henley and deep in conversation with Holden Rodrigues.

When Adam’s eyes met Olive’s, she grinned and waved at him. For some
yet unknown reason that likely had to do with the fact that they were

sharing this huge, ridiculous, unlikely secret, Adam now felt like a friendly
face. He didn’t wave back, but his gaze seemed softer and warmer, and his

mouth curved into that tilt that she’d learned to recognize as his version of a
smile.

“I can’t believe they didn’t switch the talk to one of the bigger
auditoriums. There is not nearly enough space for— Oh, no. No, no, no.”
Olive followed Anh’s gaze, and saw at least twenty new people arrive.

The crowd immediately started pushing Olive toward the front of the room.
Anh yelped when a first-year from neuroscience who weighed about four

times as much as she did stepped on her toe. “This is ridiculous.”
“I know. I can’t believe more people are—”

Olive’s hip bumped against something—someone. She turned to
apologize, and—it was Adam. Or, Adam’s shoulder. He was still chatting

with Dr. Rodrigues, who wore a displeased expression and was muttering,
“Why are we even here?”
“Because he’s a friend,” Adam said.

“Not my friend.”
Adam sighed and turned to look at Olive.

“Hey—sorry.” She gestured in the direction of the entrance. “A bunch of
new people just came in and apparently the space in this room is finite. I

think it’s a law of physics, or something.”
“It’s okay.”

“I’d take a step back, but . . .”
On the podium, Dr. Moss took the mic and began introducing Tom.
“Here,” Adam told Olive, making to stand from his chair. “Take my

seat.”