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We took separate bedrooms but never really discussed why.She worried that she’d made a mistake; I did my best to be distracted.My date, a slight girl with glasses, is two steps ahead of me, half-turned and smiling.She is holding an old bag and wearing an outfit thrown together from a half-abandoned Goth phase. Her voice has a quality not immediately explicable by accent or other distinct feature; it is neither high nor, despite her origins, discernibly Long Island, unless she gets to shouting.

Calendars created are then turned over with full editing and sharing privileges to the Area Administrators (people who would be adding events to the calendars).

She listened to all of it, and when I was done she said, “Don’t worry.

You’ll grow up one day and find a girl you can love who’s OK with polyamory.” At the time, I don’t think she meant herself.

Her name is Lou, except it isn’t really (every name but mine has been changed).

This is our third date, but I am still afraid of her.