Page 288 - The Love Hypothesis

Holden’s expression brightened.

“Well, actually, it’s about Tom Benton.”
It darkened just as quickly. “What about Tom?”
Right. What about Tom, precisely? Olive wasn’t quite sure how to

approach the topic. She wasn’t even sure what she meant to ask. Sure, she
could have barfed up her entire life story for Holden and begged him to fix

this mess for her, but somehow it didn’t seem like a good idea. She racked
her brain for a moment, and then landed on: “Did you know that Adam is

thinking about moving to Boston?”
“Yeah.” Holden rolled his eyes and pointed at the tall windows. There

were large, ominous clouds threatening to explode with torrential rain. The
wind, already chilly in September, was shaking a lonely hickory tree. “Who
wouldn’t want to move here from California?” he scoffed.

Olive liked the idea of seasons, but she kept the thought to herself. “Do
you think . . . Do you think he’d be happy here?”

Holden studied her intensely for a minute. “You know, you were already
my favorite girlfriend of Adam’s—not that there were many; you’re the

only woman who could compete with computational modeling in about a
decade—but that question wins you a lifelong number-one plaque.” He

pondered the matter for a minute. “I think Adam could be happy here—in
his own way, of course. Broodingly, unenthusiastically happy. But yes,
happy. Provided that you are here, too.”

Olive had to stop herself from snorting.
“Provided that Tom behaves.”

“Why do you say that? About Tom? I . . . I don’t mean to pry, but you
told me to watch my back with him in Stanford. You . . . don’t like him?”

He sighed. “It’s not that I don’t like him—even though I don’t. It’s more
that I don’t trust him.”

“Why, though? Adam told me about the things Tom did for him when
your adviser was abusive.”
“See, this is where a big part of my mistrust comes in.” Holden worried

at his lower lip, as if deciding whether and how to continue. “Did Tom
intercede to save Adam’s ass on numerous occasions? Sure. It’s undeniable.