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217 pages, Kindle Edition
First published April 28, 2018


“If you like bowling we’ll get you your own shoes.”“Something strappy with an open toe?”(...)
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Lionel and I had been together almost six months: one Super Bowl, a March Madness, and an entire hockey season if you don’t count the championship games.
“Dog! We’re doomed! According to this our relationship is perfect except that it will never last because we have nothing in common.”
“According to wha— Wait. That doesn’t make sense. If our relationship is perfect, it will last.” That
seemed really logical to me.
“No. We’re doomed.”
“Stop saying that.”
“We have to do something. We have nothing in common.”
“Does that really matter?”
“Of course it matters. We need more things in common. And it can’t be sex.”
“We have lots in common,” [Dog] said. "Why is it bothering you now?”
“It isn’t bothering me, exactly. It’s just that Maddy sent me this listicle.”
“She sent a what?”
“A listicle. It’s an article that’s really a list. Or a list that’s really an article. One or the other.”
I was going to kill my sister. Maddy had ruined everything with one lousy email. Calmly, I turned off the DVD and looked my boyfriend straight in the face.
“Lionel, we’re fine. I love you.”
“Yes, but do you love who I’m going to be?”
That sounded like a trick question. Did he want me to say yes? Or did he want me to say no? I mean, saying yes was committing to a complete unknown. And that seemed like a terrible idea. But then saying no felt wrong. It felt like I wasn’t willing to let him be who he was. And that was also wrong.
“Um, maybe? I’m going to try.”
“What if I turn out to be a serial killer?”
“Okay, no.”
“No? You’re not going to love me if I change a little bit?”
“Well, of course I will…wait a minute. Turning into a serial killer is not a little bit. You’re trying to confuse me.”
“Darling, I’m trying to make a point. We have to find a way to grow together and that takes work. That means we need to have things in common.”
“I should probably tell you that if you turn into a serial killer we definitely won’t have anything in common.”
“I’m not going to turn into a serial killer, Dog.”
“Promise?”
“I promise. I would have shown signs of it by now.”
“What are the signs?”
“You know, lying, not caring about right or wrong. Torturing small animals. Things like that.”
“Your neighbor’s cat is missing,” I said. “They put up a sign.”
[Lionel] just rolled his eyes.
"We have to do something. We have nothing in common."
"Does that really matter?"
"Of course it matters. What are we going to do when we're old and gray and stop having sex?"
"Why would we stop having sex?"
"Okay. Bowling it is."

Copy provided for honest review.
“Lionel... I love you.”
“Yes, but do you love who I’m going to be?”
That sounded like a trick question. Did he want me to say yes? Or did he want me to say no? I mean, saying yes was committing to a complete unknown. And that seemed like a terrible idea. But then saying no felt wrong. It felt like I wasn’t willing to let him be who he was. And that was also wrong.
“Um, maybe? I’m going to try.”
“What if I turn out to be a serial killer?”
“Okay, no.”
“No? You’re not going to love me if I change a little bit?”
“Well, of course I will…wait a minute. Turning into a serial killer is not a little bit. You’re trying to confuse me.”
“Darling, I’m trying to make a point. We have to find a way to grow together and that takes work. That means we need to have things in common.”
“I should probably tell you that if you turn into a serial killer we definitely won’t have anything in common.”
“I’m not going to turn into a serial killer, Dog.”
“Promise?”
“I promise. I would have shown signs of it by now.”
“What are the signs?”
“You know, lying, not caring about right or wrong. Torturing small animals. Things like that.”
“Your neighbor’s cat is missing,” I said. “They put up a sign.”
“If you like bowling we’ll get you your own shoes.”
“Something strappy with an open toe?”