I think that’s why I had to see him to begin with, just to prove I wasn’t dumb and to make sure he was a man. I was going to San Francisco to see friends, but most of them were friends like Janey, friends I didn’t know. I said, we should have sex. I was joking. I knew he was probably gay.

He said, totally, yes, and he gave me his number. I texted him.

What are you wearing? I said.

Your pants, he said.

Haha, I said. How did you get them?

He said, wouldn’t you like to know?

I stopped texting him back for an hour. I looked in the mirror and I twitched. I couldn’t figure out if he was actually flirting.

I said, where are you right now? I have always been bad at pretending to flirt. I am not good at actually flirting, to tell you the truth.

He gave me the address of a party and told me to get dressed and go there. I dug through my clothes and tried on everything I had brought.

I put on the pencil skirt and took it off knowing if I wore that, he’d make fun of me. I put on black leggings and took them off knowing if I wore that, he’d make fun of me. I put on the bright blue dress and took it off knowing if I wore that, he’d make fun of me. I put on the garter and stockings and took them off. What was I thinking, I thought.

I decided to put on my black lacey shirt and my black mini skirt and my black tights. The black shirt was high-necked and covered my boobs but showed just enough skin that I wasn’t a prude. The black skirt was just short enough. I was ready to let my guard down if he wanted me to. The black tights could make the short black skirt look long if I sat down and crossed my legs just the right way. My black heels were tastefully non-descript but I made sure I was wearing cute underwear.