Where are we going? You should just tell me.” “To one of my favorite places in San Francisco,” was all I said. “Is it a gay bar? I hope it’s not. I don’t want to meet other girls.” “I’m flattered,” I joked and ignored the way my stomach flopped. “I have this theory,” Chloe began. “You have a lot of theories.” She ignored me and continued, “-that if I hit on you relentlessly enough, you’ll crack eventually. See, when guys do it, it’s creepy and gross, but I’m female and adorable and you actually like hanging out with me, so it’s okay.”
