Love, Theoretically by Ali Hazelwood EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available For Free Download
- Authors: Ali Hazelwood
- Language: English
- Genre: New Adult & College Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
WAV E S A N D PA R T I C L E S
Twenty-four hours earlier
ALL THROUGHOUT MIDDLE SCHOOL, MY HALLOWEEN COSTUME
was the duality of light.
I made it with a marker, drawing a bunch of circles and zigzag
lines all over one of Dad’s white undershirts I’d rescued from the trash can.
In hindsight, the production value was so low, not even the physics teacher
managed to guess what it was. I never minded, though. I’d walk around the
hallways hearing Bill Nye’s voice in my head, his beautiful explanation of
the ways light could be two different things at once, depending on what
others wanted to see: a particle and a wave.
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It seemed like a winning idea. And had me wondering if I, too, could
contain two—no, a whole multitude of Elsies. Each one would be crafted,
custom tailored, carefully curated with a different person in mind. I’d give
everyone the me they wanted, needed, craved, and in exchange they’d care
about me.
Easy peasy, photons squeezy.
Funny how my physics career and my people-pleasing career started
around the same time. How I can draw a straight line from baby’s first
quantum mechanics concept to my current job. Actually, to both my current
jobs. The day one, in which I earn next to nothing by hatching physical
theories that explain why small molecules cluster together like cliques of
mean girls during lunch hour. And the other one, in which . . .
Well. The other one, in which I pretend to be someone else, at least pays
well.
“Uncle Paul will try to rope us into a threesome, again,” Greg tells me,
soulful brown eyes full of apologies, and I don’t hesitate. I don’t act
annoyed. I don’t shudder in revulsion thinking about Uncle Paul’s sewage
breath or his oily comb-over, which reminds me of pubic hair.
Okay, maybe I do shudder a little bit. But I cover it up with a smile and
a professional “Got it.”
“Also,” he continues, running a hand through his messy curls, “Dad
recently developed severe lactose intolerance but refuses to ease up on the
dairy. There might be . . .”
“Gastrointestinal events.” Understandable. I’d resist giving up cheese,
too.
“And my cousin Izzy—she’s known to become physically aggressive
when people disagree with her over the literary value of the Twilight Saga.”
I perk up. “Is she pro or against?”
“Against,” Greg says darkly.
I love Twilight even more than cheese, but I can withhold my TED Talk
on why Alice and Bella should have left all those idiots behind and ridden
off into the sunset.
Team Bellice 4evah.
“Understood.”
“Elsie, I’m sorry. It’s Grandma’s ninetieth. The whole family will be
here.” He sighs, breath smoky white in the night air of this icy Boston
January. “Mom’s going to be at her worst.”
“Don’t worry.” I ring the doorbell of Greg’s grandmother’s town house
and offer my most encouraging smile.
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