Immune

Copycat

Mari's POV

"How about inviting Y/N to a movie then?" Tikki asks me.

"Yeah right. Imagine how that conversation will go." I say to her.

"Hmm, 'Hey Y/N, wanna go to a mo- blah, ugh, uhgsjnskdsh.'" Tikki impersonates me.

"Eeexactly, Tikki." I laugh at her imitation of me. "Whenever I see Y/N I get all clammy and feel like fainting. It's takes all my energy not to stutter but I still do."

"So basically you can't normally ask Y/N on a date unless you're wearing a blindfold."

"Pretty much."

"There's a simple solution to this you know," Tikki says. "It's called a cellphone. Just call Y/N so you don't get all tongue-tied by seeing her."

Woah, I'm dumb. I should've thought of that sooner! I whip my phone out but instead of calling Y/N, I call Alya. There's no way I can do this without her.

Within the span of two minutes, Alya is already in my room pacing while writing a script for me.

"Okay, just stick to this script and you'll be good," Alya instructs.

"But I don't sound natural when I read aloud," I complain.

"Then memorize it. Now call Y/N." She hands me my phone along with the script. I start to press the 'call' button. I can do it. I can do it. I can do-

"Ugh, I can't do it." I sigh, defeated.

"Too late to back out now." Aya quips. I look down to see she pressed the button for me. I look up at Alya, panic seeping out of my pores. She gives me a wink and backpedals to my chaise and hides behind it. Ooh, I'm going to get her back for this.

"Hey, it's Y/N." Y/N's voice comes out of my phone.

"Hey, what's up?" I ask.

"Not much, but this is my voice mail so I'm assuming I'm busy. Leave a message or text me." Y/N's voicemail replies. Oh my God, Y/N is going to be the death of me.

"It's gone to voicemail!" I whisper shout at Alya.

"Leave a message!" She whispers back, "and DON'T improvise!" Oh no, this isn't going to be good.

"hEllO! Uh, Y/N's voicemail, hehe," I see Alya facepalm in my peripheral. Yes, this was a great start. Go me. "This is Marinette, who, uh, has a message. For you! Of course, 'cause it's, uh, your phone. So, um," I give a nervous laugh into the receiver. "CALLMESEEYOUATERBYE!" I chuck the phone onto the chaise. God that was a disaster. Alya facepalms again and I wheel over in my chair.

"What did you expect me to say?" I ask her exasperated. "'Hey hot stuff, this is Marinette. I'd ask you on a date to the movies but I've got such a crazy crush on you that the only way I can talk to you without foaming at the mouth is over this stupid phone.' Pretty ridiculous right?" I smile nervously and lean back in my chair.

"If you wish to hear your message again, press 1. If you wish to delete your message, press 2," a robotic voice comes out of the phone. Oh no.

"Hit two! HIT TWO!" Alya screams at me.

I jump on the phone and hit 2. Phew, that was a close one.

"Message saved," the robotic voice says. Oh no. Oh no no no no no. In a rush of panic, I stand up, spin around a few times then flop down again on the chaise. This is the worst thing that could happen. Now Y/N is gonna know about my crush on her. This is not how I wanted this to go. Uggghhhhhhhh.

"It's not as bad as you think," Alya tries to reassure me. I look up at her with a 'really?' look on my face. "Okay, it's bad. But you were gonna half to tell her one of these days," she argues.