I declined to mention the bit where I was seriously doubting my decision to move away. There was nothing to be gained from getting into all of that drama as well.

“Is that it?” Ruby said, incredulous. “Relationships end?”

“Pretty much.” I braced myself for a lecture about how you have to give love a chance and true love is out there and you’ll never find it if you don’t put your heart on the line and a story about how her grandparents met when they were seven and they are still together now even though they’re a hundred and sixty-eight.

“So what?” is what she said instead.

“Er . . . what?”

“I’m not trying to force you into anything you don’t want to do. Trust me, I’m not in the habit of begging girls to go out with me. But I like you and there’s another way of thinking about this.”

I was interested but not convinced. I was also a bit miffed by this “trust me” business. I bet girls were all over her. I bet there were loads of hot girls in England just waiting outside her door. I forced myself to shut down that tangent and pay attention; Ruby was still talking.

“Like you said, I’m going back home in September. We already know exactly when it will end.”

“OK . . . ,” I said, my tone conveying that I did not get where she was going with this. She was proving my point. We were doomed from day one.

“Sooo,” she said, impatiently explaining what she thought was obvious, “no blindsiding, no expectations of everlasting love. Our own experiment with a different type of lesbian story. The fun stuff. The kissing and the talking and the dating and no one dies at the end.”

“Just the romantic montage,” I said, finally understanding.

“Exactly. You don’t have to take everything so seriously.”

She had a point.

“You have a point,” I said. Was it possible to have your cake and then not be sad when your cake leaves you and smashes your heart into a mushy pulp? “But how would it work?”

Ruby thought for a second. “We could try it out. One date, something classic from the movies. If we have a good time, we make a proper plan. If we don’t or I fall hopelessly in love with you, I swear we can call it off.”

She was making fun of me, but it did sound good. Did it count as breaking the golden rule of no relationships? Technically. But it was a loophole. Loopholes were fine. I hadn’t factored in loopholes before.

All right, listen, I’m going to level with you, we both know I’m full of shit, but just let me have this one, OK?