Page 48 of Catching Feels

“Okay, let’s not.”

“You weren’t a virgin, right?”

“Again, we’re not doing this.”

“Fuck me. I should have known from the first lick you were too damn sweet?—”

“La, la, la, la, la?—”

“Okay, okay, okay. But?—”

“But nothing. You were proving a theory, and so was I.”

I shake my head. “Now don’t do that.”

She stomps toward me, phone in hand, taps on the screen, and then shows me something in her notes. “An actual scientific theory, not a superstition,” she clarifies.

Thesis

I am compelled to investigate a recurring pattern observed among the American females in their teens and twenties who have a tendency to prioritize romantic pursuits over personal dreams and aspirations.

(They chased boys and not dreams.)

Through a self-directed research project, I aim to uncover the underlying societal, psychological, and physical factors that influence this choice, seeking to understand its implications on their personal and professional development.

My hypothesis: It’s sex, not love.

Subject one: SMS

Thorough, great banter, focus on giving pleasure.

Possibly to ensure his ego stays well inflated.

Sexually deviant.

“Inflated ego? Sexual deviant?”

“Ego, yes. Deviant, I suppose I can let that go, but you did seem to like the mask. And yeah, now I don’t believe you knew who I was and were trying to ruin my brother’s career.” She holds out her hand. “See? We’re good.”

I scroll down.

“Subject two? No, fuck that, Jillian. You’re lucky the guy you met wasn’t a sicko.”

“Oh jeez, thank you for being such a gentleman.”

“You’re welcome, you sarcastic little shit.” I roll my eyes. “I was lucky, too. This whole time, I’ve been waiting for some freak in a unicorn mask to post a selfie of me passed out naked in the background.”

“Not yet, but that could totally be used for bribery,” she jokes … I think.

“You actually take a picture?” I ask.

She quirks a brow. “A lady never tells.”

“Lady?” I joke, and she tries to jack her phone away. “Grown-ass woman with a job, a taser, and pepper spray—your words.”

“Phone.”

“Only if you promise not to send that piece of shit money again.”

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