The Statistical Probability Of Love At First Sight by Jennifer E. Smith

without so much as a pause in conversation as he jabbers away into his hands-free phone. Once again, Hadley tries not to think about the condition of the dress she’ll soon be forced to put on. She hands over the address and the cabbie climbs back into the car without any sort of acknowledgment of his new passenger.
    “How long will it take?” she asks as she slips into the backseat, and he halts his steady chatter just long enough to let out a sharp bark of a laugh.
    “Long time,” he says, then pulls out into the slow crawl of traffic.
    “Super,” Hadley says under her breath.
    Out the window, the landscape scrolls by from behind a gauzy layer of mist and rain. There’s a grayness here that seems to hang over everything, and even though the wedding will be indoors, Hadley finds herself softening toward Charlotte for a moment; anybody would be disappointed with this sort of weather on her wedding day, even if she was British and had spent a lifetime learning not to expect anything else. There’s always that tiny piece of hope that this day—
your
day—will be the one to turn out differently.
    When the cab pulls onto the motorway, the low-slung buildings start to give way to narrow brick homes, which stand shoulder to shoulder amid spindly antennae and cluttered yards. Hadley wants to ask whether this is part of London proper, but she has a feeling her driver would be a less than enthusiastic tour guide. If Oliver were here, he’d undoubtedly be telling her stories about everything they passed, though there’d be enough outlandish tales and not-quite-truths sprinkled in there to keep her on her toes, too, to make her wonder whether any of it was really true at all.
    On the plane he’d told her about trips to South Africa and Argentina and India with his family, and Hadley had folded her arms as she listened, wishing she were on her way to somewhere like that. It wasn’t such a leap, from where she was sitting. There on the plane, it wasn’t so very hard to imagine they could be headed somewhere together.
    “Which was your favorite?” she’d asked. “Of all the places you’ve been?”
    He seemed to consider this for a moment before that one telltale dimple appeared on his face. “Connecticut.”
    Hadley laughed. “I bet,” she said. “Who’d want to go to Buenos Aires when you could see New Haven?”
    “What about you?”
    “Alaska, probably. Or Hawaii.”
    Oliver looked impressed. “Not bad. The two most far-flung states.”
    “I’ve been to all but one, actually.”
    “You’re kidding.”
    Hadley shook her head. “Nope, we used to take a lot of family road trips when I was younger.”
    “So you drove to Hawaii? How was that?”
    She grinned. “We thought it made more sense to fly to that one, actually.”
    “So which one have you missed?”
    “North Dakota.”
    “How come?”
    She shrugged. “Just haven’t made it there yet, I guess.”
    “I wonder how long it would take to drive there from Connecticut.”
    Hadley laughed. “Can you even drive on the right side of the road?”
    “Yes,” Oliver said, flashing her a look of mock anger. “I know it’s shocking to think that I might be able to operate a vehicle on the
wrong
side of the road, but I’m actually quite good. You’ll see when we take our big road trip to North Dakota one day.”
    “I can’t wait,” Hadley said, reminding herself that it was only a joke. Still, the idea of the two of them crossing the country together, listening to music as the horizon rolled past, had been enough to make her smile.
    “So what’s your favorite place
outside
of the States?” he asked. “I know it’s absurd to think there might be somewhere else in the world as wonderful as, say, New Jersey, but…”
    “This is my first time overseas, actually.”
    “Really?”
    She nodded.
    “Lot of pressure, then.”
    “On what?”
    “London.”
    “My expectations aren’t particularly high.”
    “Fair enough,” he said. “So if you