Love, Theoretically by Ali Hazelwood

            He grimaces. I laugh, and once the car stops I lean against the passenger door to study his handsome profile in the yellow lights. “Tell her that I cheated on you with the Grubhub delivery guy. It’ll buy you longer moping rights.”

            “Brilliant.”

            We’re silent while I think about Greg’s situation. The reason he even needs a fake girlfriend. What he felt comfortable telling me, a stranger, and not his own family. How similar we are. “After this is done, if you need . . . if you want someone to talk to. A friend. I’d love to . . .”

            His smile is genuine. “Thanks, Elsie.”

            I’m barely out of the car. Ice crinkles under the heel of my boot as I turn around. “Oh, Greg?”

            “Yes?”

            “What’s the Woodacre thing?”

            He groans. His neck tips back against the headrest. “It’s a silent meditation retreat our boss is forcing us to do. We’re leaving tomorrow—four days of no contact with the outside world. No email, no Twitter. He got the idea from a Goop newsletter.”

            Oh. “So it has nothing to do with . . . complicated science?”

            He gives me a desperate look. “The opposite. Why?”

            “Ah . . .” I close my eyes. Let mortification sink its fangs into my brain. “No reason. Have a good night, Greg.”

            I close the passenger door, wave half-heartedly, and let the frigid air pop into my lungs. The North Star blinks at me from the sky, and I remember tomorrow’s job interview.

            It doesn’t matter if tonight I made a fool of myself with Greg’s punch-worthy brother. Because with just a sprinkle of luck, I might never have to see Jack Smith again.





2


            NUCLEAR FISSION



From: [email protected]

                Subject: Re: Re: Re: My chinchilla


Hey Doctor H.,


I understand you don’t care about Chewie McChewerton’s gluten allergy, but what about the fact that last night I got a DUI? Does that get me out of the Physics 101 midterm?


Sincerely,

                Chad





From: [email protected]

                Subject: can’t come to class


pls find attached a pic of my vomit this morning


Emmett





From: [email protected]

                Subject: Merchant of Venice reflection paper


Dr Hannaday,


I was wondering if you could quickly give feedback on what I wrote regarding the imagery of the lead casket. Please find the word doc attached.


Sincerely,

                Cam





From: [email protected]

                Subject: ELSIE CONTACT ME ASAP YOUR BROTHERS ARE BEING UNREASONABLE AGAIN AND I NEED HELP I TRIED TO CALL LAST NIGHT BUT NO ANSWER


[this email has no body]





From: [email protected]

                Subject: MIT Interview—Faculty Position


Dear Doctor Hannaway,


I wanted to say once again how excited I am that you’ll be interviewing for a tenure track position in the physics department here at MIT. We are extremely impressed with your CV, and have narrowed down our choice to you and another candidate. The search committee and I are looking forward to getting to know you informally tonight, at dinner at Miel, before your on-campus interview starts tomorrow.


If that’s okay with you, I’d like for the two of us to meet alone a few minutes before the dinner at Miel to chat a bit. There are a few things I’d like to explain.


Best,

                Monica Salt, Ph.D.

                A.M. Wentworth Professor of Physics

                Department of Physics, Chair

                MIT



            My heart sparks with excitement.

            I set my tea on the kitchen table and click Reply, to assure Monica Salt that yes, absolutely, of course: I will meet her whenever and wherever she wants, including the plains of Mordor at two fifteen a.m., because she holds the key to my future. But the second my hand closes around the mouse, excruciating pain stabs my palm and shoots up my arm.