Jake could hardly be described as an outcast. He was a likable guy who just couldn’t read women, hardly anything unusual in that.

In college, the other students flocked towards his charismatic charm; he was never in want of a friend, or thirty. The law of averages demanded that a good number of these friends would be of the female persuasion, and Jake was cursed from the beginning.

Like an unpracticed tightrope walker, he fell every time. How was he to know the ladies were just being nice? Their smiles, their body language, the glimmer of their eyes when he looked their way, Jake took as green lights to go, go, GO! He went with gusto.

And just as vigorously, Jake became versed in the many ways a girl can say “let’s just be friends.” By graduation he had resigned himself to a lifetime of great friendships and untouched heartstrings. Incapable of falling another time.

“Jake, let’s do lunch!” Janice sat in the chair across from Jake’s desk. She had never flirted so hard in her life. Was this guy dense?

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