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wonder whether you’d ever be good enough. The kind that made you want to be a better version of yourself.

“What’s the time?” he groaned.

“I’d guess eight. But it could be lunchtime, and I don’t want to check my phone.”

“Me, either. I bet mine’s full of messages from Luke.”

“How about we just say it’s something o’clock?”

“We should be studying right now,” Josh said. “I’m such a bad influence on you.”

“So presumptuous! Maybe I’m the bad influence on you . . .”

“You look different.”

“Different how?” Hope flipped over to straddle him.

“I don’t know. Radiant.”

“I’m not radiant. Just blinded by this insane sunlight. A true gentleman would be getting up to close the curtains.”

“But that would spoil it. The sunlight suits you.”

“Okay, I’ll admit it. I’m feeling pretty good.” Hope smiled. “But don’t go thinking it’s because you’re an amazing lover. Anyone can ace a night in bed with a little effort.”

“So if I’m not an amazing lover, what’s got you so radiant?”

“When someone holds you close while you sleep, and smiles as they open their eyes in the morning . . . That’s like a little spark of magic that makes you happy,” Hope said, then added, “And don’t panic; I’m just saying.”

“I’m not scared. Tell me something, Hope.” He paused. “Do you think you could love a man with all my flaws?”

Hope glanced up at the mirror over the bed, catching sight of their jeans entangled on the chair.

“How could I not love a man who saved a lobster’s life?”

“What do you mean, I’m not an amazing lover?”

“Well, maybe you are. But I won’t be telling you that now. I don’t want to pump up your ego. You’ve been with too many girls who think it’s all about the bedroom.”

Josh glared at her and buried his face in the pillow.

“Wait a minute.” Hope cupped a hand under his chin. “Were you serious? Are you seriously trying to tell me you fell in love with me last night? How can someone as smart as you be so . . . dumb? It’s unsettling. Don’t mess with my feelings, Josh,” she warned. “I only have one heart. I’d like to keep it whole.”

“You think I’d mention love if I weren’t serious?”

“I don’t know.”

“You know what? Forget it,” he said, jumping out of bed. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Let’s get dressed. We need to get going.”

Hope caught him by the arm, pulling him back onto the bed.

“What are you going to tell Luke when we get back? The truth? Or that the car broke down?”

“I think you’re scared of happiness, Hope. Maybe you’re scared of feeling it and liking it, and then seeing it slip away. But to find happiness, you have to take risks. Your way of seeking out happiness is to head to the lab, or to hit the library and lose yourself in your books. How can you pour so much passion into wanting to change the world, yet settle for so little in your own life?” He looked at her. “Maybe if you aren’t ready to shake things up, it means you don’t really want to be happy.”

“You know, Josh, you’re pretty sexy when you’re mad. And there’s nothing sexist about telling a man he looks sexy when it’s true.”

Hope pressed her lips to Josh’s and kissed him, before drawing him deeper in. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she clung to his shoulders as he moved closer between her thighs. When finally they came together, they fell back onto the pillows, and Hope waited for her breath to slow.

“That whole monologue about me and being happy was pathetically naive and full of dumb assumptions about what my life is like. But it’s the nicest ‘I love you’ I’ve ever heard.”

She sprang out of bed, her skin glistening with sweat. She swiped her T-shirt off the floor and held it to her chest, and then rushed to the bathroom, clutching her jeans to her waist.

“I suggest you go and buy a newspaper or something,” she shouted through the door, “because I plan on taking a bath. And it’s going to be a long one.”

They forgot their studies; they forgot Luke’s calls. They even forgot they needed enough money to tide them over until the end of the month. They treated themselves to a hearty lunch. They bought T-shirts emblazoned with the name of the town and illustrated with a drawing of a witch hanging from a tree, a kitsch pencil holder for Luke, two waffles, and then they hit the road.

Traffic was heavy as they edged their way back into town.

“So are you going to tell me more about what you’re working on with Luke?” Hope asked.

“A month ago, a team of scientists managed to re-create part of a rat’s brain on a computer. The idea is to use artificial intelligence alongside the rat’s brain to enhance its cognitive and learning capacities, its memory and decision-making skills, its ability to adapt . . .”

“Awesome. And the end result will be . . . What? A cheese-eating Mac?”

Josh pretended he hadn’t heard her.

“It opens up a whole new field of possibilities.”

“And where do you come in?”

“Our job is to think about the step that comes after all that.”

“Re-creating an artificial human brain?” Hope snorted.

“It’s not going to happen overnight, but ultimately that’s what we’re looking at, yes. Or at least, we’re helping others research it.”

“But other than you guys, who could be crazy enough to want to upload their memory to a machine?”

“Anyone dreaming of immortality. Imagine if Einstein’s brain was still whizzing around today.”

“Yeah, he invented the atomic bomb. You want to inject that kind of creative genius into artificial intelligence?”

“He also developed the theory of relativity.”

“Sure, but which of his two personalities do you think your artificial intelligence would draw on?”

“That’s not the point!” Josh exclaimed. “Humanity is staring into the face of its own demise. Most religions focus on reincarnation or see death as the spirit being released from the body. The story of humanity is the story of this never-ending battle against

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