Problematic Summer Romance

“I just…I kinda thought maybe Alfie was the one?”

“Based on what?”

“He…He’s funny, especially when he’s drunk. And he left me space—I need a lot of space, sometimes. And he held me when I wanted to be snuggled.”

“All of these things you listed, a dog could do.”

“I am a corporate lawyer, girl. My tolerance for boring is higher than the debt ceiling.”

“FYI, nothing has changed since the last time we met. I still don’t understand finance-related jokes.”

“Poor wittle girl is just a fucking nuclear physicist, boohoo.”

“Maya, he wasn’t pretending. I guarantee you that every boy your age wants you. Men my age want you. Wherever you go, every-fucking-body is looking at you.”

I laugh, because he’s a lunatic. I love it. “Say they do? I don’t care. Not-Hans is not my type. He’s at least two decades away from a colonoscopy.”

The world is so big, and we are just clumps of atoms. What’s a tiny little bit of heartbreak, when faced with the vastness of mankind? Does it matter that a love is unrequited, if the universe started with a hot fireball and will end the same way?

“Conor, relax. You can be a fan of reproductive rights and think that coming inside me is hot.”

He covers his eyes. “Christ.”

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Lots of people have a breeding kink.”

“Fucking—I don’t.”

“Oh, Conor. Yes, you do.”

“Such a fucking menace,” he grumbles. Red-cheeked. Adorable.

“It’s fine. I’m into weird stuff, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Like what?”

“I believe it’s called gerontophilia?”