“I don’t know, I just think there’s too much miscommunication between guys and girls. I mean, no one knows what the fuck is going on. We need to have the discussion. We need to vent it and get it out in the open,” I said, grabbing my drink from the bedside table.

Nick sat on the edge of the bed and put his shirt back on. “What do you want to know?”

“I just want to know what guys are thinking. I mean we have sex and stuff and nothing lasting ever comes of it,” I said, taking a cigarette out and lighting it. I knew I shouldn’t be smoking, but I was too drunk to care.

“I don’t think I should say. We don’t know everything girls are thinking. I think some things are better left unsaid.”

“I want to know. I’d prefer shit to be clearer, because I’m always confused,” I replied. I could tell he was still a bit sexually frustrated, but he seemed okay to chat.

“Go ahead, ask what you want. I’ll try give it to you as straight as I can. But don’t hate the messenger,” Nick responded, taking the champagne from my other hand and having some.

“I won’t. My first question is, why do guys act so interested and then not get in touch at all?” I asked.