“You still want me to tell them she’s your new friend the yoga instructor and to respect your privacy, all that? Not ready to use the term ‘dating’ or ‘girlfriend’ or ‘new squeeze?’”
I mull it over for three seconds. “Yeah, for now that’s all anyone needs to know.”
“’Kay. I’m just wondering why you decided to take her out like that. If things are going so well. Are you testing her? To see how she handles things?”
After remembering to breathe, I’m finally able to respond with: “I had no idea anyone here would know to send pictures to bloggers. Doesn’t anyone have anything better to do than try to analyze my inner life?”
“Good point. Toodles!”
I hang up and slowly pull out into the street again, but inside my head, thoughts are racing. HowwillStella handle things? Is it fair to call it a test? That makes me sound like I’m playing games and I’m not. And I’m not naïve, I knew this would happen eventually, but I didn’t expect it to happen so soon. I just need to know if she’s willing to put up with the crap she’ll sometimes have to put up with if she’s my girlfriend, because if she isn’t…
You are so fucking fuckity fucked, you pathetic bastard.
That’s right, Hugh.
I am so fucked.