12 Steps to Not Fall in Love on Wattpad

ᴛʜᴇ "ʟᴇᴛ'ꜱ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴍʏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴏꜰ ꜰʟɪʀᴛɪɴɢ" ᴛʏᴘᴇ ✉️

You: Ohhh, I have a better idea. 

You: How about we write this one together? I wasn't planning on making it a big novel, nothing more than 30 chapters, and yk what they say: "two heads think better than one." 

I hit send and immediately regret it. Two heads think better than one? That’s what I went with? Really? I flop onto my bed, groaning as my phone lands beside me with a soft thud. 

Maybe I need a class on how to sound like a normal, functioning person. Or, better yet, a guide on how not to make things awkward. For the record, I’m not trying to flirt. This is purely about friendship. And collaboration. 

Fluffy stares at me from his spot by the headboard, his big, shiny eyes as judgmental as ever. 

— Don’t start, – I mutter, reaching over to adjust his crooked little bow tie. — I’m not flirting, okay? I just want to... you know, work with someone that has great writing skills to write a story that I'm very interested in.

And maybe, maybe, have another way to talk to her if she disappears again. But that’s it. Nothing else. He doesn't need to know that. 

His silence is deafening, as usual. 

I grab my phone again and scroll back to reread what I sent her, my finger hovering over the screen like I can somehow unsend it through sheer willpower. It’s fine. This is fine. This was a great idea. 

Right? 

I roll onto my back, staring at the ceiling as I try to calm my racing thoughts. Okay, so the idea is a little cliché. Two friends thrown into a zombie apocalypse, forced to face their feelings while dodging undead hordes and surviving the drama of being stuck with their high school nemeses. But it’s not that bad, is it? 

— It’s like "The Walking Dead" meets "I fell in love with my best friend", but gayer, — I say out loud, trying to sell it to Fluffy. He remains unimpressed. 

I groan again, pressing the heels of my palms against my eyes.

— She loves zombie stories, though. And horror. This could actually work. 

But then, of course, doubt starts to creep in. What if she thinks the idea’s ridiculous? What if she says no? What if—oh no—what if she thinks I’m using this as an excuse to get closer to her? 

Which I’m totally not doing, by the way. 

— Okay, maybe I am a little, – I admit, glancing at Fluffy. — But only because I really like talking to her. And I don’t want her to disappear again without some other way to keep in touch.

The thought makes my chest tighten. It’s been days since she came back, and I still can’t quite shake the memory of those weeks when she was MIA. 

I shake my head, pushing the thought aside as I sit up to turn off the lamp. Tomorrow’s a big day—I’m supposed to hear back about that job interview—and I need to sleep. But as I settle under the covers, phone clutched in my hand, a part of me can’t stop thinking about what she’ll say. 

A few hours later, my phone pings. 

I bolt upright so fast my pillow flies off the bed. The screen lights up with a message, and my heart skips a beat when I see her name. 

xxx: Hmm us doing a story, huh? I think I’d love to give it a try, like you write it down and I help revise it and help with plot? If needing help? IT IS YOUR STORY so I’m not sure what you’d want me to help with but I’d love to help :3 

I grin so hard it hurts. Before I can overthink it, I quickly type a reply. 

You: I don't want it to be my story, though. I want it to be ours. 

I set my phone down, my face buried in my hands. 

— Guess I still need to work on being less obvious. – I mumble to Fluffy before finally falling back against my pillow.