Page 13 of The Love Hypothesis

“Okay.” Anh chewed on her lower lip, deep in concentration. “So it’s not a prank. Which means that there must be another explanation. Let me find it.”

“There is no explanation to be found. We just—”

“Oh my God, are you trying to get citizenship? Are they deporting you back to Canada because we’ve been sharing Malcolm’s Netflix password? Tell them we didn’t know it was a federal crime. No, wait, don’t tell them anything until we get you a lawyer. And, Ol, I will marry you. I’ll get you a green card and you won’t have to—”

“Anh.” Olive squeezed her friend’s hand tighter to get her to shut up for a second. “I promise you, I’m not getting deported. I just went on a single date with Carlsen.”

Anh scrunched her face and dragged Olive to a bench on the side of the path, forcing her to sit down. Olive complied, telling herself that were their positions inverted, had she caught Anh kissing Adam Carlsen, she’d probably have the same reaction. Hell, she’d probably be busy booking a full-blown psychiatric evaluation for Anh.

“Listen,” Anh started, “do you remember last spring, when I held your hair back while you projectile vomited the five pounds of spoiled shrimp cocktail you ate at Dr. Park’s retirement party?”

“Oh, yes. I do.” Olive cocked her head, pensive. “You ate more than me and never got sick.”

“Because I’m made of sterner stuff, but never mind that. The point is: I am here for you, and always will be, no matter what. No matter how many pounds of spoiled shrimp cocktail you projectile vomit, you can trust me. We’re a team, you and I. And Malcolm, when he’s not busy screwing his way through the Stanford population. So if Carlsen is secretly an extraterrestrial life-form planning a takeover of Earth that will ultimately result in humanity being enslaved by evil overlords who look like cicadas, and the only way to stop him is dating him, you can tell me and I’ll inform NASA—”

“For God’s sake”—Olive had to laugh—“it was just a date!”

Anh looked pained. “I just don’t understand.”

Because it doesn’t make sense. “I know, but there is nothing to understand. It’s just . . . We went on a date.”

“But . . . why? Ol, you’re beautiful and smart and funny and have excellent taste in knee socks, why would you go out with Adam Carlsen?”

Olive scratched her nose. “Because he is . . .” It cost her, to say the word. Oh, it cost her. But she had to. “Nice.”

“Nice?” Anh’s eyebrows shot up so high they almost merged with her hairline.

She does look extra cute today, Olive reflected, pleased.

“Adam ‘Ass’ Carlsen?”

“Well, yeah. He is . . .” Olive looked around, as if help could come from the oak trees, or the undergrads rushing to their summer classes. When it didn’t seem forthcoming, she just finished, lamely, “He is a nice asshole, I guess.”

Anh’s expression went straight up disbelieving. “Okay, so you went from dating someone as cool as Jeremy to going out with Adam Carlsen.”

Perfect. This was exactly the opening Olive had wanted. “I did. And happily, because I never cared that much about Jeremy.” Finally some truth in this conversation. “It wasn’t that hard to move on, honestly. Which is why— Please, Anh, put that boy out of his misery. He deserves it, and above all, you deserve it. I bet he’s on campus today. You should ask him to accompany you to that horror movie festival so I don’t have to come with you and sleep with the lights on for the next six months.”

This time Anh blushed outright. She looked down at her hands, picked at her fingernails, and then she began to fiddle with the hem of her shorts before saying, “I don’t know. Maybe. I mean, if you really think that—”

The sound of an alarm went off from Anh’s pocket, and she straightened to pull out her phone. “Crap, I’ve got a Diversity in STEM mentoring meeting and then I have to run two assays.” She stood, picking up her backpack. “Want to get together for lunch?”

“Can’t. Have a TA meeting.” Olive smiled. “Maybe Jeremy’s free, though.”

Anh rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth were curving up. It made Olive more than a little happy. So happy that she didn’t even flip her off when Anh turned around from the path and asked, “Is he blackmailing you?”

“Huh?”

“Carlsen. Is he blackmailing you? Did he find out that you’re an aberration and pee in the shower?”

“First of all, it’s time efficient.” Olive glared. “Second, I find it oddly flattering that you’d think Carlsen would go to these ridiculous lengths to get me to date him.”

“Anyone would, Ol. Because you’re awesome.” Anh grimaced before adding, “Except when you’re peeing in the shower.”

* * *

—

JEREMY WAS ACTING weird. Which didn’t mean much, since Jeremy had always been a bit awkward, and having recently split from Olive to date her best friend was not going to make him any less so—but today he seemed even weirder than usual. He came into the campus coffee shop, a few hours after Olive?