Lucy Evans

“Picture this, Olive. Early two thousands. Preppy, ridiculously expensive all-male DC school. Two gay students in grade twelve. Well, two of us that were out, anyway. Richie Muller and I date for the entirety of senior year - and then he dumps me three days before prom for some guy he’d been having a thing with for months.”
“He was a prick,” Adam muttered.
“I have three choices. Not go to the dance and mope at home. Go alone and mope at school. Or, have my best friend - who was planning on staying home and moping over gamma-aminobutyric acids - come as my date. Guess which?”
Olive gasped. “How did you convince him?”
“That’s the thing, I didn’t. When I told him about what Richie did, he offered!”
― Ali Hazelwood, The Love Hypothesis

“He’d clearly never seen a rom-com or read a romance novel in his life.”
― Ali Hazelwood, The Love Hypothesis

“She frowned. “I asked if I could kiss you, and you said yes.”
“Incorrect. You asked if you could kiss me and I snorted.”
“I’m pretty sure I heard you said yes.”
He lifted one eyebrow, and for a minute Olive let herself daydream of drowning someone. Dr. Carlsen. Herself. Both sounded like great options.”
― Ali Hazelwood, The Love Hypothesis

“People who date, they-they talk. A lot. More than just greetings in the hallway. They know each other’s favorite colors, and where they were born, and they… they hold hands. They kiss.”
Adam pressed his lips together as if to suppress a smile. “We could never do that.”
― Ali Hazelwood, The Love Hypothesis