Love According to Science

by Kingsley, Claire

“No, it’s Hazel.”

  But she’d already shut the door in my face.

  I backed away, so stunned I could barely think. Had Corban slept with her? Had he been sleeping with her this whole time?

  And did I have any right to be mad if he had been?

  I felt like I might cry, or possibly vomit. My hands shook and I found myself on the ground floor, walking outside with no idea how I’d gotten there. All I could see was Paisley standing in his doorway, dressed in his shirt, her legs bare.

  If this had happened to one of my friends, I knew my mind would have been able to walk through the evidence in a calm and logical manner. I’d have come up with a number of alternative explanations and encouraged her to reserve judgment until she was sure of the truth.

  But the sharp sting of betrayal overrode my ability to think logically. All I knew was that I’d been wrong about him. I’d been wrong to think he might have shared my feelings.

  Maybe he liked me as a friend. And he certainly seemed to have enjoyed sleeping with me. But we’d never gone beyond that. Never talked about the possibility of exploring what we had together. We weren’t dating. We weren’t exclusive.

  So maybe Paisley Hayes answering the door in her underwear had just saved me from making a terrible mistake. He’d never have to know I had entertained the notion that I was in love with him, or that he might be in love with me.

  I went home and did the only thing I could. I group texted my friends. I knew they’d be here for me. They always were.

  But half an hour later, as we sat on my floor with martinis in hand, I didn’t cry. I didn’t let the tight ball of emotions loose. I couldn’t.

  I couldn’t even find it in me to feel vindicated. This proved that Corban’s theory had a flaw. We’d done his questionnaire together, and although it had sparked a change in our relationship, it hadn’t made us fall in love.

  Or at least, it hadn’t made him fall in love with me.

  And for the first time since that afternoon when we’d gone through his questionnaire, I allowed myself to admit another truth. For perhaps the first time in my life, I’d wanted to be wrong. I’d wanted his accelerated intimacy theory to be right.

  34

  Corban

  “Just remember you will find that one special love that you know is right but for some reason just doesn’t last.” ~ Marie Curie

  Steam clouded the bathroom mirror. I raked the towel back and forth over my wet hair a few times, then wrapped it around my waist. My jaw was rough with stubble, thicker than I usually kept it, but I decided to leave it. I didn’t care if I looked scruffy.

  I’d spent the morning at the climbing gym, trying to distract myself from Hazel. Again. Apparently that was just my life now. I spent a lot of time up on that wall trying to keep her out of my head.

  It never worked very well.

  Maybe I shouldn’t have snapped at her yesterday when she’d hit me with all that research. But what did she think, that I didn’t know something was wrong with me? That she could compile a meta-analysis and the answers would be somewhere in all the data?

  The answers weren’t there. I’d already looked.

  My childhood memories were filled with my parents’ attempts to fix me. To ensure I grew up normal, not the weird guy who memorized random facts and did math for fun. But I was the weird guy who memorized random facts and did math for fun. And even though I didn’t understand what part of that equation was broken, something was. My parents hadn’t been able to fix it. I hadn’t been able to fix it. And now Hazel wanted to try?

  I didn’t need her to make me her latest research study.

  The air outside the bathroom was colder, making my skin prickle when I opened the door. I’d soaked in the hot shower for quite a while, so I probably needed some water.

  Clutching the towel in one hand, I walked out to the kitchen.

  “Hey there.”

  I whipped around at the voice, almost dropping the towel. Paisley sat on my couch, her legs crossed at the knees. Why wasn’t she wearing pants? And was that my shirt?

  “What are you doing here?” I hiked up the towel, fumbling so I wouldn’t drop it.

  She licked her lips. “Waiting for you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I wanted to see you.”

  “How did you get in?”

  “I have your key, silly. You gave it to me.”

  My key? “That was in case I locked myself out.”

  Her lower lip protruded in a pout. “I didn’t think you’d mind if I surprised you. I thought it would be fun.”

  “But why are you wearing my shirt? And where are your pants?”

  She stood and walked closer. “You weren’t picking up on my hints, so I decided it was time to take bolder action.”

  “What hints?”

  She stopped in front of me and draped her arms around my shoulders. What the fuck was happening right now?

  “See? You’re so clueless.”

  Without letting go of my towel, I grabbed one of her hands and took it off my shoulder, then moved the other one. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m here. I’ve been trying to let you figure it out, but I’m tired of waiting.”

  “For what?”

  “For you.”

  My brow furrowed. “What?”

  She laughed softly. “I like you, Corban.”

  I stared at her, dumbfounded. “No you don’t.”

  Her smile faltered. “Yes, I do. That’s why I’m here. I kept hoping you’d get the hint and ask me out, but you’re obviously not going to. So I’m taking matters into my own hands.”

  I took a step backward. Paisley Hayes had been waiting for me to ask her out? I was so confused. “This is very… weird and unexpected.”

  She tilted her head, her full lips curling upward at the corners. “Why weird? I thought maybe you liked me, too.”

  “I did.”

  “Good.” She moved closer and reached for my bare chest. “Let’s explore that feeling.”

  “No, I mean past tense.” I stepped back so she couldn’t touch me. “I liked you in high school.”

  “You did? Oh my god, Corban, that’s so cute. You really liked me?”

  “Yeah, but that was a long time ago.”

  She reached for me again. “It was, wasn’t it? Now we’re both grown up. We know how to do things right.”

  I sidestepped to avoid backing into a wall. “This is… Paisley… I don’t…”

  She kept after me, matching me step for step. It seemed like her hands were coming at me from every direction. “You don’t what?”

  “I don’t like you like that.”

  Eyebrows lifting, she stopped in her tracks. “Excuse me?”

  “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression somehow, but I’m not interested.”

  “I don’t understand what you’re saying right now.”

  “Really? You’ve never had a guy tell you he’s not into you?”

  “No.” She crossed her arms. “Corban, I’m basically throwing myself at you. Do you know how many guys would kill for this chance? In case I’m not being completely clear, we can have sex. Right now. You just said you liked me in high school. Let’s make that teenage fantasy come true.”

  Paisley Hayes was standing in my apartment in her underwear, telling me she wanted to have sex. Seventeen-year-old me would have died if he knew what I was about to say.

  “No.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “No?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Are you kidding?”

  “I’m not kidding. It’s cool that you’ve been friends with my sister for so long and it’s been nice to be friendly with you, but I’m not interested.”

  “Why?”

  “Really?” I adjusted the towel again. “Should we get dressed first or…”

  She put her hands on her hips. “No, I want you to tell me right now. Why aren’t you interested
in me?”

  “We don’t have anything in common.”

  “Of course we do.”

  “Like what?”

  It took her a few seconds to answer. “I’m sure there are plenty of things. We just need to get to know each other better.”

  “Do you like comic books? Or rock climbing? What about penguins?”

  Her forehead creased. “What do penguins have to do with anything?”

  “How do you feel about them?”

  “I have no idea. Corban, I’m your sister’s best friend and we’ve known each other since high school. That’s like fate or something, don’t you think?”

  “No. And you were kind of shitty to me back in high school.”

  “How was I shitty to you in high school?” She crossed her arms again.

  “It doesn’t matter now. The bottom line is, I’m not into this.” I pointed back and forth between the two of us. “I’m sorry you thought something was going to happen, but it’s not. I’m already…” I trailed off before I could say I’m already in love with someone else.

  “You’re already with someone?”

  “Not exactly, but that doesn’t matter either. Even if I was totally single, my answer would be the same.”

  Her eyes narrowed, flicking up and down, and her jaw tightened. “Fine. I gave you a chance with me and you won’t get another one. I hope you don’t regret it.”

  Not even for a second, Paisley. Not for one second.

  She tossed her hair over her shoulder and swept out.

  “You’re still wearing my—”

  The door slammed behind her.

  “—shirt.”

  I didn’t really want it back anyway.

  “That had to be one of the top five weirdest experiences of my life.” I didn’t know who I was talking to. I half expected to look down and see Erwin blinking at me.

  I went into the bedroom and put on a t-shirt and pair of sweats. Had that just happened? Had Paisley Hayes just told me she liked me and wanted to sleep with me?

  There was a time when that would have seemed like all my dreams coming true. But seventeen-year-old boys weren’t exactly the smartest creatures, even ones who were otherwise geniuses.

  I didn’t want Paisley Hayes. We weren’t right for each other, and I’d known that for years.

  But it figured. I’d liked Paisley in high school, and she hadn’t liked me. Now Paisley wanted me, but I wanted Hazel.

  And Hazel? To her, I was just a warm body and a science experiment.

  35

  Corban

  “In the arithmetic of love, one plus one equals everything, and two minus one equals nothing.” ~ Mignon McLaughlin

  Hazel had avoided me all day. And I didn’t want to be grumpy about it, but I was.

  We hadn’t talked once over the weekend, and now that we were back at work, it felt like we were enemies all over again.

  Not that we were picking at each other. I hadn’t turned her nameplate around, and she hadn’t left any memos on my desk. Truthfully, that would have been preferable to the awkward silence hanging between us. To the way she avoided my eyes and walked by my office quickly, like she didn’t want to see me. The way she’d abruptly left the lab without a word when I’d come in this morning.

  I wasn’t the one who’d come up with a stack of research articles after she’d shared something personal. When I’d found out she’d been married before, had I immediately gone home and looked up everything I could find on getting over a divorce? Had I tried to science my way into her head so I could fix her? No.

  So if me being mad about that put a wedge between us, fine.

  I hunkered down in my chair and turned my attention back to my grant application. I had feedback from Elliott, showing me exactly how much work I needed to do to make it stronger. It was a lot, but this was why I was here.

  My phone dinged and for a split second, I hoped it was Hazel. Maybe she wanted to talk so she could apologize. Or maybe she wanted to pick a fight with me. I wasn’t even sure if I cared which one it was.

  But it wasn’t Hazel. It was someone who’d found one of her fake fliers with my number on it—were there actually more of those out there?—asking about my free tutoring services.

  Awesome. Maybe I’d put up fliers around campus advertising Hazel’s services. Do you have unresolved issues from your past? Have you ever wanted someone to poke at your insecurities like you’re a lab rat? Call Hazel Kiegen.

  Looking at my phone, however, reminded me of the time. I was due in the lab in a few minutes.

  With Hazel.

  Great.

  I got up and my stomach growled. Loudly. I’d forgotten my lunch at home today. Because of fucking course I had. I’d obviously needed something else to put me in a shitty mood and my subconscious had obliged. I didn’t have time to run out and get something. I’d just have to suck it up and eat later.

  Hazel was already in the observation room when I got there. Naturally. She was nothing if not punctual and organized. Traits I admired, but I didn’t want to think about all the things I liked about her. Not now.

  The fact that she didn’t bother looking up at me when I came in sent another spike of irritation running through me. I decided to ignore her right back and got to work calibrating the motion capture equipment.

  Two hours later, we were finished running tests, still hadn’t spoken to each other outside of what was necessary to oversee the study, and I was hungry enough to eat that weird meatless thing my sister had tried to make when she’d been going through her vegetarian phase.

  Hazel stood and tapped her papers into a neat stack. She opened her mouth and started to say something—it might have been I think we should talk—but in that moment, reasonable Corban Nash left the building.

  I basically snapped.

  “Do any more interesting research lately?”

  She clutched her stack of papers to her chest. “Not really. Why?”

  “Are you sure? I figured you must have studied up on conflict avoidance. Maybe passive aggression. Giving friends the silent treatment.”

  “I’m not giving you the silent treatment.”

  “Could have fooled me.”

  “I’m talking to you right now.”

  “Only because you have to.”

  “On the contrary, I think we both have things that need to be said.”

  “Okay, good.” I crossed my arms, waiting for her to apologize for trying to make me her latest study subject. And then, yeah, I probably needed to apologize for walking out the way I had. But she could go first.

  She adjusted her glasses. It was odd that she wasn’t looking me in the eye. She didn’t usually shy away from eye contact. It was also odd that I knew that about her. But I tended to notice things about Hazel that I didn’t notice in anyone else.

  “Our relationship, such as it is, hasn’t followed what would be considered a typical progression. Therefore, it would be unfair of me to place unreasonable expectations on said relationship. Such as it is.”

  “Okay…” I had no idea where she was going with this.

  “But I have also come to realize that my expectations were different than yours. And also different from what I may have communicated to you, in both verbal and nonverbal ways.”

  “Expectations?”

  “Yes. The first time our relationship progressed into the physical, we agreed it had been a mistake. It’s become clear to me that we were right, and it should have remained what it was. A single encounter that shouldn’t have been repeated.”

  I stared at her. What was she talking about? “You’re saying we shouldn’t have slept together again?”

  “Yes.”

  My heart was beating too fast and my chest felt heavy. She regretted it. That was what she was telling me. She regretted sleeping with me. Whatever it was we’d had together, she didn’t want to fix it. She wished it hadn’t happened. We were a mistake.

  That tiny spark of hope I’d stupidly been nursing—mayb
e she really had been trying to help with all that research stuff… maybe it meant she cared—snuffed out in an instant. It left me feeling empty, a different kind of hunger clawing at my hollow insides.

  I was alone. I was always going to be alone. And I hated it.

  My teeth clenched and I reached for the only thing I could find to get me through this moment. Anger.

  Stepping back into my role as Hazel’s rival was like wrapping myself in an old sweater. Sure, it was ugly and it didn’t fit me very well anymore. But it was familiar and easy to wear.

  I knew how to navigate a world where we were enemies.

  “You know what, you’re right. It was a mistake. It was a mistake the first time, and every time after that. And it was a mistake for me to trust you with anything personal. I should have known you’d turn it into a reason for extracurricular scientific analysis.”

  Her eyebrows drew together. “I was only trying to help.”

  “I don’t need your help. And I don’t need you to be my fuck buddy.”

  “I should say you don’t.”

  “Friends with benefits is bullshit anyway,” I muttered.

  She sucked in a breath and her eyes glistened with… were those tears? Why did she look like she was about to cry?

  “That’s precisely the conclusion I’ve come to.” She tightened her arms around her stack of papers and her spine straightened. “Friends with benefits isn’t a viable option. And right now I’m questioning whether we can be friends at all.”

  Her words pierced through me, sharp and painful. She didn’t want to be friends. She didn’t want me in her life. For a second, the hurt cut through my anger. “What? Why?”

  “Because I can’t do that to myself, Corban. Being friends means staying on the periphery and putting myself in the position of having to watch you be happy with someone else. Even if that isn’t now, it’ll happen someday.”

  Someone else? What was she talking about?

  “And I just can’t,” she continued. “I’m sorry, Corban, but I can’t do this.”

  She walked out, leaving me standing in the observation room. The sudden silence was somehow deafening. It felt like the ground would open up and swallow me whole.