I’ve been hanging out with Pete with no more kissing. My week just kept getting worse, and I couldn’t control myself any longer. I texted him.
-Are you sure you don’t want to make out?
-What? Are you drunk?
-I’m not drunk. I was just wondering.
-Oh it sounded like one of those drunk texts I’ve read about. I thought we were going to be accountability partners.
-I know. I was having a bad day. And kissing you was nice.
-I’d probably serve you best as a friend in the long run. Sorry about the bad day.
-I know you would. You are good at this accountability thing.
The next day:
-Sorry about the crazy-girl texts. It was a cry, eat, or make out kind of night.
-No prob. Happens to the best of us.