Category: The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

HYPOTHESIS: When given a choice between A (telling a lie) and B (telling the truth), I will inevitably end up selecting . . . No. Not this time. Olive had no doubt that Holden’s tales were highly embellished and the result of years of comedy workshopping, but she still couldn’t help laughing harder than ever before. “And I’m awakened by this waterfall pouring down on me —” Adam rolled his eyes. “It was […]

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HYPOTHESIS: Wearing expired contact lenses will cause bacterial and/or fungal infections that will have repercussions for years to come. “Holden sent a message for you.” Olive looked away from the window and to Malcolm, who’d turned off airplane mode the second they’d landed in Charlotte for their layover. “Holden?” “Yeah. Well, it’s technically from Carlsen.” Her heart skipped a beat. “He lost his phone charger and can’t text you, but […]

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HYPOTHESIS: People who cross me will come to regret it. She had to lie. Again. It was becoming a bit of a habit, and while she spun an elaborate tale for the secretary of Harvard’s biology department, one in which she was a grad student of Dr. Carlsen’s who needed to track him down immediately to relay a crucial message in person, she swore to herself that this would be […]

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HYPOTHESIS: When in doubt, asking a friend will save my ass. Olive spent the following day in the hotel, sleeping, crying, and doing the very thing that had gotten her into this mess to begin with: lying. She told Malcolm and Anh that she’d be busy with friends from college for the entire day, pulled the blackout curtains together, and then buried herself in her bed. Which, technically, was Adam’s […]

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HYPOTHESIS: A heart will break even more easily than the weakest of hydrogen bonds. It wasn’t the sun high in the sky that woke her up, nor housekeeping—thanks to Adam, likely, and a Do Not Disturb sign on the door. What got Olive out of bed, even though she really, really didn’t want to face the day, was the frantic buzzing on the nightstand. She buried her face in the […]

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HYPOTHESIS: When I think I’ve hit rock bottom, someone will hand me a shovel. That someone is probably Tom Benton. Olive drifted off after the first time, and dreamed of many strange, nonsensical things. Sushi rolls shaped like spiders. The first snowfall in Toronto, during her last year with her mother. Adam’s dimples. Tom Benton’s sneer as he spat the words “little sob story.” Adam, again, this time serious, saying […]

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HYPOTHESIS: Despite what everyone says, sex is never going to be anything more than a mildly enjoyable activi— Oh. Oh. It was like a layer peeled away. Adam yanked off the shirt he was wearing in one fluid movement, and it was as though the white cotton was only one of many things tossed in a corner of the room. Olive didn’t have a name for what the other things […]

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HYPOTHESIS: This conference will be the worst thing to ever happen to my professional career, general well-being, and sense of sanity. There were two beds in the hotel room. Two double beds to be precise, and as she stared at them, Olive felt her shoulders sag with relief and had to resist the urge to fist-pump. Take that, you stupid rom-coms. She may have fallen for the dude she’d begun […]

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HYPOTHESIS: Approximately two out of three fake-dating situations will eventually involve room-sharing; 50 percent of room-sharing situations will be further complicated by the presence of only one bed. There was an Airbnb twenty-five minutes from the conference center, but it was an inflatable mattress on the floor of a storage room, charging 180 bucks per night, and even if she could have afforded it, one of the reviews reported that […]

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The love Hypothesis by ALI HAZELWOOD ,Chapter 11 HYPOTHESIS: If I am bad at doing activity A, my chances of being asked to engage in activity A will rise exponentially. Campus felt strangely empty with Adam gone, even on days in which she likely wouldn’t have met him anyway. It didn’t make much sense: Stanford was most definitely not empty, but teeming with loud, annoying undergrads on their way to […]

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