Hey. I thought texting might be a safer medium for us, on account of there’s no physical contact and nothing inappropriate can happen. Unless you send me dick pics or something, which doesn’t sound like you, but I don’t know your texting habits.

He doesn’t respond.

Anyway, do you want me to bring you a piece of pie tomorrow/today?

I wait for a second, then text again.

That sounded sexual, but I mean it literally. And it’s an apple pie, so it’s not one of the more sexual pies (cherry and peach, if you’re wondering).

Except wait. Wasn’t the pie in American Pie, the ultimate pie-sex cultural touchstone, apple? Ugh.

Do you want a piece of nonmetaphorical, nonsexual pie?

There’s no way Nick’s awake right now, so I don’t expect a text back. I only sent these because . . . well, who knows? I don’t want a relationship or an anything-ship with Nick, but the weak, impatient part of me can’t stop myself from poking. As long as I keep it to a text format, it will be fine.

I let my mind wander as I consider what Nick might be doing if he isn’t sleeping. Maybe he’s watching a boring documentary. Maybe he’s reading a book. Maybe he’s in bed with someone.

I sit bolt upright, horrified by the thought, as my phone buzzes.

Bring me a piece of pie tomorrow.

I flop back down. And that’s it. No acknowledgment of anything else I said, of my rambling, of my analysis of the most sexual pies. No clarification of whether he’s being metaphorical or literal. One sentence. It’s all very . . . Nick.

I can’t sleep, so I check my email on my phone. Yes, I know a phone’s glowing screen and constant distraction is a terrible thing for sleep and blah blah blah blue light, but I never said I made good decisions. Clearly.

I have an email from—ugh—a gossip website. They’re trying to put together a piece related to Annie’s movie and this dude wants to know: Are you and Rick really a thing? Is there any truth to the story behind the movie?

This guy obviously hasn’t done any sort of research, or else he’d know that Rick is only Nick’s name in the movie, not in real life. The grossest thing is, this isn’t even the first time a website or magazine has contacted me. They always want something—a comment, a picture, any sort of “exclusive”—and I never, ever respond. I get that they’re only doing their jobs so I’m not going to be an asshole about it, but I’m also not going to open up my personal life to score a website a few clicks.

But tonight . . . well, tonight is different. I’m reeling from that kiss and my conversation with Annie and I would love to tell the world (or the Internet, which might as well be the world) the truth.

So I reply.

Hi. Thanks so much for your email. There is actually nothing between Nick and me—we’re coworkers, and that’s it. We’ve never been in a relationship and we’re never going to be in a relationship. End of story.