“Kaitlyn,” I said. “Sorry. Do you think you’d have to be on top?” “Kaitlyn,” I said.
What were we talking about. Right, you and Augustus Waters. Maybe . . are you gay?”
“I don’t think so? I mean, I definitely like him.” “Does he have ugly hands? Sometimes beautiful people have ugly hands.”
“No, he has kind of amazing hands.“Hmm,” she said. “Hmm,” I said.
After a second, Kaitlyn said, “Remember Derek? He broke up with me last week because he’d decided
there was something fundamentally incompatible about us deep down and that we’d only get hurt more if we played it out.
He called it preemptive dumping. So maybe you have this premonition that there is something fundamentally incompatible
and you’re preempting the preemption.” “Hmm,” I said. “I’m just thinking out loud here.” “Sorry about Derek.”
“Oh, I got over it, darling. It took me a sleeve of Girl Scout Thin Mints and forty minutes to get over that boy.”
I laughed. “Well, thanks, Kaitlyn.” “In the event you do hook up with him, I expect lascivious details.”
“But of course,” I said, and then Kaitlyn made a kissy sound into the phone and I said, “Bye,” and she hung up.
I realized while listening to Kaitlyn that I didn’t have a premonition of hurting him. I had a postmonition.
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