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“But are any of them fake?” She beamed at him, and could tell that he was tempted to smile back. “Would you like half a dollar, then? For the chips?”
“Keep it.”
“Great. Because it’s about a third of my monthly salary.”
She actually managed to make him laugh, and—it didn’t just transform his face, it changed the entire space they were inhabiting. Olive had to convince her lungs not to stop working, to keep taking in oxygen, and her eyes not to get lost in the little lines at the corners of his eyes, the dimples in the center of his cheeks. “Glad to hear that grad students’ stipends have not increased since I was one.”
“Did you use to live on instant ramen and bananas during your Ph.D., too?”
“I don’t like bananas, but I remember having lots of apples.”
“Apples are expensive, you fiscally irresponsible splurger.” She tilted her head and wondered if it was okay to ask the one thing she’d been dying to know. She told herself that it was probably inappropriate—and then went for it anyway. “How old are you?”
“Thirty-four.”
“Oh. Wow.” She’d thought younger. Or older, maybe. She’d thought he existed in an ageless dimension. It was so weird to hear a number. To have a year of birth, almost a whole decade before hers. “I’m twenty-six.” Olive wasn’t sure why she offered up the information, since he hadn’t asked. “It’s odd to think that you used to be a student, too.”
“Is it?”
“Yep. Were you like this as an undergrad, too?”
“Like this?”
“You know.” She batted her eyes at him. “Antagonistic and unapproachable.”
He glared, but she was starting to not take that too seriously. “I might have been worse, actually.”
“I bet.” There was a brief, comfortable silence as she sat back and began to tackle her bag of chips. It was all she’d ever wanted from a vending machine snack. “So does it get better?”
“What?”
“This.” She gestured inchoately around herself. “Academia. Does it get better, after grad school? Once you have tenure?”
“No. God, no.” He looked so horrified by the assumption, she had to laugh.
“Why do you stick around, then?”
“Unclear.” There was a flash of something in his eyes that Olive couldn’t quite interpret, but—nothing surprising about that. There was a lot about Adam Carlsen she didn’t know. He was an ass, but with unexpected depths. “There’s an element of sunk-cost fallacy, probably—hard to step away, when you’ve invested so much time and energy. But the science makes it worth it. When it works, anyway.”
She hummed, considering his words, and remembered The Guy in the bathroom. He’d said that academia was a lot of bucks for little bang, and that one needed a good reason to stick around. Olive wondered where he was now. If he’d managed to graduate. If he knew that he’d helped someone make one of the hardest decisions of their life. If he had any idea that there was a girl, somewhere in the world, who thought about their random encounter surprisingly often. Doubtful.
“I know grad school is supposed to be miserable for everyone, but it’s depressing to see tenured faculty here on a Friday night, instead of, I don’t know, watching Netflix in bed, or getting dinner with their girlfriend—”
“I thought you were my girlfriend.”
Olive smiled up at him. “Not quite.” But, since we’re on the topic: why exactly don’t you have one? Because it’s getting harder and harder for me to figure that one out. Except that maybe you just don’t want one. Maybe you just want to be on your own, like everything about your behavior suggests, and here I am, annoying the shit out of you. I should just pocket my chips and my candy and go back to my stupid protein samples, but for some reason you are so comfortable to be around. And I am drawn to you, even though I don’t know why.
“Do you plan to stay in academia?” he asked. “After you graduate.”
“Yes. Maybe. No.”
He smiled, and Olive laughed.
“Undecided.”
“Right.”
“It’s just . . . there are things that I love about it. Being in the lab, doing research. Coming up with study ideas, feeling that I’m doing something meaningful. But if I go the academic route, then I’ll also need to do a lot of other things that I just . . .” She shook her head.
