The truth was that I’d only been in one long-term relationship before Yena. But I thought: I’ll let her believe that, it’ll probably make me more attractive to her. “So that’s a yes, then,” she said, and because we both laughed I thought everything was fine. It had been years since I’d taken down the Green Day posters and photos of skateboarders, rolled them up, and planted a kiss on them before they disappeared into the storage drawer of the brand-new double bed, and there, in that slightly-too-pimpish four-poster bed, I was now making the fatal mistake of just grinning stupidly at Yena’s comment about lots of girls. We were lying in what had once been my teenage bedroom. “You’ve probably been with lots of girls, haven’t you?” Yena said the first time she spent the night at my place.
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