Page 168 - The Love Hypothesis
P. 168
“I know.” He nodded, and . . . he didn’t even look surprised. It was as
though it had never occurred to him that Olive might have been interested
in him. It made her want to cry—a frequent state on this stupid morning—
but instead of doing that, she just vomited out another lie.
“I just . . . I have a thing. For a guy.”
He nodded again, this time slowly. His eyes darkened, and the corner of
his jaw twitched, just for a moment. She blinked, and his expression was
blank again. “Yeah. I gathered that.”
“This guy, he’s . . .” She swallowed. What was he? Quick, Olive, quick.
An immunologist? Icelandic? A giraffe? What was he?
“You don’t have to explain if you don’t want.” Adam’s voice seemed
slightly offbeat, but also comforting. Tired. Olive realized that she was
wringing her hands, and instead of stopping she simply hid them under the
table.
“I . . . It’s just that . . .”
“It’s okay.” He offered her a reassuring smile, and Olive—she couldn’t
possibly look at him. Not a second longer. She averted her eyes, desperately
wishing she had something to say. Something to fix this. Right outside the
café’s window, a group of undergrads were huddling together in front of a
laptop, laughing at something playing on the screen. A gust of wind
scattered a stack of notes, and a boy scrambled to retrieve them. In the
distance, Dr. Rodrigues was walking in the direction of Starbucks.
“This . . . our arrangement.” Adam’s voice pulled her back inside. To the
lies and the table between them; to the gentle, soft way he was talking to
her. Kind, he’d been so kind.
Adam. I used to think the worst of you, and now . . .
“It’s supposed to help both of us. If it stops doing so . . .”
“No.” Olive shook her head. “No. I . . .” She forced her face into a
smile. “It’s complicated.”
“I see.”
She opened her mouth to say that no, he couldn’t possibly see. He
couldn’t possibly see anything, because Olive had just made all of this up.
This clusterfuck of a situation. “I don’t—” She wet her lips. “There is no