Chapter Three
If you’re thinking my lack of dating experience is because I’ve been pining for Jacob for nine years, then you’d be wrong.
I had enough self-respect not to keep pining for a guy who’d stood me up for prom. I might have pined for the idea of him, if you want to get existential about it. But did I cry into my pillow every night, wishing Jacob would show up at my dumpy apartment at UW and tell me he loved me?
Hell no. The only thing I was crying about in college was the fact that my biology professor refused to grade our midterms on the curve.
But my dating experiences were always a mess, no matter who I dated. My first boyfriend, Todd, was in my biology class in college, and he wore glasses that had such thick lenses that when he looked at you, he was bug-eyed. It was hard
