Page 167 - The Love Hypothesis

Chapter Eleven

HYPOTHESIS: Whenever I lie, things will get worse by a factor of 743.

“Did you . . . did you hear that?” she blurted out.
Malcolm hurried to clear the table of his stuff, muttering tightly, “I was

just about to go.”
Olive barely noticed, busy watching Adam slide the chair back to sit

across from her.
Shit.
“Yes,” he said, bland and even, and Olive felt like she was about to

disintegrate into a million tiny pieces, here, in this exact spot. She wanted
him to take it back. Wanted him to say “No, heard what?” She wanted to go

back to earlier this morning and rewind it all, this horrible mess of a day.
Not look at the texts on her phone, not let Anh walk in on her mooning over
her fake boyfriend, not pour her heart out to Malcolm in the worst possible

place.
Adam couldn’t know. He simply couldn’t. He’d think that Olive had

kissed him on purpose, that she’d masterminded this whole fiasco, that
she’d manipulated him into this situation. He’d feel compelled to break up

with her well before he could reap any benefits from their arrangement.
And he would hate her.

The prospect was terrifying, so she said the one thing she could think of.
“It wasn’t about you.”
The lie rolled off her tongue like a mudslide: unpremeditated, quick, and

bound to leave a huge mess behind.