Josh and Hazel's Guide to Not Dating

by Christina Lauren

I am perpetually awkward at parties and in an effort to relax will probably end up drinking until I’m topless.

when I meet someone I love, I become an octopus and wind my tentacles around their heart, tighter and tighter until they can’t deny they love me just the same.

Mom and I are both huggers, maybe overly enthusiastic about the things we love, and terrible joke tellers.

“But at the end of the day,” she says, and puts her hand outside the open window, letting the wind pass through her fingers, “being myself is enough. I’m enough.”

I’ve never had casual sex. I’ve honestly never understood the impulse; sex is so supremely intimate. I give away a nonrefundable piece of myself, every time.

“You’re staring.” I love your face,

I miss Hazel. I’d buy a lifetime supply of fire extinguishers and eat bad pancakes every day to have her around again.

“You are perfect for me.”