Sometimes I think about these hookup sessions that Daniel and I have and I think to myself, "How does that end up happening? Like, really? A booty call? You, Leslie? Get serious." Well, here's how it happens.
We text a lot. We text almost all day, every day (I know, I know, that's what couples do) but it almost always comes down to someone saying, "Soooo I kinda want to kiss someone right now and you make a good candidate." Then we get into a conversation about where we would meet and what our excuses would be (study group, the gym, a friends house, a church activity...) and then it all falls into place.
We meet up, we chitchat for a couple minutes, then we end up sucking face in the back of someone's car. Romantic, right? Wrong. It's not romantic because it's designed to be a hook up, straight up making out. Nothing all emotional, no cuddling while sharing our deep dark secrets. We makeout, we realize how late it is, then we go home in order to make it before curfew (it's sad that we have curfew.)
No strings attached, that's what it's supposed to be. We're friends who makeout. It's such a weird situation that I can hardly comprehend.
I have a makeout buddy. That is weird. I like it...
