Page 47 of VOGUEish

Would now be a good time to mention that she’d been embellishing back then when she’d implied he’d given her a clothed dick pic to send to her classmates? Or just let it be? It wasn’t like her admission last night had seemed to bother him. No. She’d leave well enough alone.

That’s my good news.

My bad news is after not hearing from him for most of today, I reached out. This makes me feel slightly pathetic. Like I broke the girl dating code.

Then again, without going into details, I did give him reason not to reach out so it made sense I would be the one to do the initial reaching.

She paused and reread her last sentence. It was insightful and boring.

When she had started the blog, it had been a way to communicate with others like her. Unpopular. Over the years, even though her life had gotten a lot better, she’d made it a practice to continue to share her pain so those whose worlds were not getting better would still feel connected to Anonymous in NYC.

As such, for every two or three fun posts, she’d embellish a not so fun post. It was those posts that tended to go viral and garner her new followers and a whole host of replies. Replies like: Thank you. I thought it was just me who sucked at picking guys.

She erased the last paragraph and instead typed:

There’s a dating code for a reason. By contacting him, I must have appeared too eager because it’s been crickets ever since. Lesson learned. While I may hate the rules of dating, they are alive and kicking. Ignore them at your own peril. Bottomline, for the past nine years, I’ve built Pillar up to be my very own Prince Charming, and he has proven himself to be pretty much like all the other men I’ve met. Not interested in getting to know me outside of the sheets.

That wasn’t fair to him, but it made for good copy.

The funny thing about his decision is that, for reasons I don’t want to go into just yet, sheet action is all I wanted from him as well. Had he bothered to do a follow-up text, he would have learned of my desire, and our one-night of fun could have turned into multiple nights of fun.

She paused again and thought about how to end the post. When possible, she tried to wrap things up with a positive vibe.

But enough of that. So far, I’m killing the fun choice resolution. Killing. It. Plus one for me.

Until next time, love, light, and laughter,

Anonymous in NYC.

Isabella grabbed her phone and checked for a text. Nothing. He obviously wasn’t jumping with glee at the idea of meeting up. She texted him again.

Never mind. No need to meet. We can just chat via texts. – Isabella

Two hours later, he sent a text.

Sorry, Nonna has monopolized my time today. How about that date I owe you? - Chandler

Was the invite the result of Nonna reminding him of his obligation?

Can’t tonight. Dinner with my parents. – Isabella

Are you going to tell your mom the truth about the snob? The guy she thinks you’re still seeing?—Chandler

Nope. Too complicated.—Isabella

How about having a drink with me before you meet with your parents? – Chandler

Isabella reread the text.

If he wanted another hookup, he would have asked to meet her after. Was before so he could do some version of the it’s not you it’s me spiel, followed by him asking her to lie to his godmother and say they did indeed go on their date? She’d never lie to Ms. Birdie.

Why?—Isabella

It’s complicated.— Chandler

Touché.

Good idea. We should probably talk about the date we’re supposed to go on.—Isabella

---