Page 310 - The Love Hypothesis

“I was sick.”

“Still. Seems kind of old to have an accident?”
Adam simply stared at Malcolm until he lowered his gaze. “Uh, maybe
not that old after all,” he muttered.

There was a large bowl of fortune cookies by the register. Olive noticed
it on her way out of the restaurant, let out a delighted squeal, and dipped her

hand in to fish out four plastic packages. She handed one each to Malcolm
and Holden, and held out another for Adam with a mischievous smile. “You

hate these, don’t you?”
“I don’t.” He accepted the cookie. “I just think they taste like

Styrofoam.”
“Probably have similar nutritional values, too,” Malcolm muttered as
they slipped out into the chilly humidity of the early night. Surprisingly, he

and Adam were finding lots of common ground.
It wasn’t raining anymore, but the street was shiny in the light under a

lamppost; a soft breeze made the leaves rustle and stray drops of water
scatter to the ground. The air was fresh in Olive’s lungs, pleasantly so after

the hours spent in the restaurant. She unrolled her sleeves, accidentally
brushing her hand against Adam’s abs. She smiled up at him, playfully

apologetic; he flushed and averted his eyes.
“ ‘He who laughs at himself never runs out of things to laugh at.’ ”
Holden popped a bit of fortune cookie in his mouth, blinking at the message

inside. “Is that shade?” He looked around, indignant. “Did this fortune
cookie just throw shade at me?”

“Sounds like it,” Malcolm answered. “Mine says ‘Why not treat yourself
to a good time instead of waiting for somebody else to do it?’ I think my

cookie just shaded you, too, babe.”
“What’s wrong with this batch?” Holden pointed at Adam and Olive.

“What do yours say?”
Olive was already opening hers, nibbling on a corner as she pulled the
paper out. It was very banal, and yet her heart skipped beat. “Mine’s

normal,” she informed Holden.
“You’re lying.”