Maybe illusion and artifice—lies, even—are a necessary part of romance.

These guys may not talk too much about relationships, but they sure do blush at telling moments, don’t they? Maybe that’s the key to understanding the opposite sex; I could invent a science, call it blushology.

Supposedly, guys think about sex every eight seconds. If that's true, how can they talk to their grandmothers?

I tried all kinds of approaches: sexy, friendly, intimidating—nothing worked. I’m starting to think there’s an invisible force field that prevents honest communication between X and Y chromosomes.

Think of it as a life experience," I mumbled. "Isn't your dad always saying we need more of that?""I don't think prancing around PJ Jamieson's pool in our underwear is exactly what he had in mind.

Sometimes, a girl just has to dive under the duvet and regroup.

Are you mad?" I ask."I was." He glances at the ceiling then back at me. "Or confused, anyway. The whole thing threw me through for a loop. I thought I'd finally met a guy at Underwood I could relate to, and it turns out he wasn't a guy at all."I swallow. "I can see how that would be weird." "In a way though, I was relieved.""Relieved?" I echo. "Why?"He looks around embarrased. "Let's just say you had me questioning my sexual orientation.