Page 185 - The Love Hypothesis

Olive closed her eyes and took enough deep breaths to pull back from

the verge of a panic attack. When she opened them, her adviser was smiling
encouragingly.
“Dr. Aslan.” Olive grimaced. “I really don’t think I can do this.”

“I know you don’t.” There was some sadness in her expression. “But
you can. And we’ll work together until you feel up to the task.” This time,

she put both her hands on Olive’s shoulders. Olive was still hugging her
laptop to her chest, like she would a life buoy in the open sea, but the touch

was oddly comforting. “Don’t worry. We have a couple of weeks to get you
ready.”

You say that. You say “we,” but I’ll be the one to speak in front of
hundreds of people, and when someone asks a three-minute-long question
meant to get me to admit that deep down my work is poorly structured and

useless, I’ll be the one to crap her pants. “Right.” Olive had to force her
head into an up-and-down motion and take a deep breath. She exhaled

slowly. “Okay.”
“Why don’t you put together a draft? You could practice during the next

lab meeting.” Another reassuring smile, and Olive was nodding again, not
feeling reassured in the least. “And if you have any questions, I’m always

here. Oh, I am so disappointed that I won’t get to see your talk. You must
promise to record it for me. It will be just as if I was there.”
Except that you won’t be there, and I’ll be alone, she thought bitterly

while closing the door of Dr. Aslan’s office behind her. She slumped against
the wall and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to quiet the agitated mess of

thoughts fluttering inside her head. And then she opened them again when
she heard her name in Malcolm’s voice. He was standing in front of her

with Anh, studying her with a half-amused, half-worried expression. They
were holding Starbucks cups. The smell of caramel and peppermint wafted

over, making her stomach churn.
“Hey.”
Anh took a sip of her drink. “Why are you taking a standing nap next to

your adviser’s office?”