“Ew.” I scoff, sitting in my chair next to her. “Oh come on! He’s single now! Just shoot him a text!” She giggles, poking my side. “I don’t even see him that way” I argue, rolling my eyes. But I in fact do. He’s so great. But I know I’ll mess it all up. “You’re full of it!” She giggles. And she’s right. You know, you don’t want people to know your true feelings. Because what if someone uses it against you? They have this dark cloud above my head, any moment they could spill my secrets. Anyway, he’d never see me in that light. Right? 
This is such a dumb idea. My dear reader, if you haven’t guessed yet let me tell you something about me, I hate vulnerability. I would rather have someone not know as much about me as I know about them. Not exactly basic interests, I enjoy when people know my interests, but the idea of knowing the real me. My fears—the things I overthink—how I feel about the topics I tend to avoid. And he’s so that. He wants to know how you feel, make you “comfortable” and bull. 
“How are you?” 
Yep, I texted him. And that’s what he said “How are you?” Why does he ask? Is he genuinely wondering? Or is this more small talk that I can never comprehend. I’m overthinking this obviously, he’s probably just saying it because that’s what people do. Right, okay, I can be really interesting. (Even though I am quite literally just laying on my couch. And comprehending what I was going to say. I decided “Hi!” was the best course of action). 
“I’m great! Just hangin’! How are you?” 
Stupid Stupid Stupid. “Just hangin’?” What am I? A bro? And way too many exclamation points! Why do I sound so excited all the time? Gotta play it cool, not really seem too bothered. 
“I’m glad you’re feeling great! I’m also well.” 
He’s so sweet. Stupid Stupid Stupid. We are just talking as friends! Nothing more than that. I refuse to feel any other way than to feel like a really kind friend. A really, really kind friend…
Suddenly my phone dings again. “Did you text himmmmm?” Did he tell her I texted him? Is this weird? I mean she told me to do it. “Yeah, why?” That’s about all I can muster, but to be honest I’m absolutely screaming on the inside. Why did he say that? Does he feel a type of way about it? Not that I would care. Okay maybe I’d care a little, don’t call me out!