The Cat's Short Stories - A Collection of Contest Entries

I, Like, Love You (Truth or Dare Contest Winner)

Hey, Wattpadders!

As the title says, this is a short story for a writing contest, curtosy of Heartless1109. I may delete it after the contest is over, but hey, you never know. Some other people might actually read it.

This is my dare: "Dare: Your main character, at one point in time, is either friends with or in a relationship with one of those girls that, you know, like, always have to, like, talk like this because they, like, think its, like cool and all, like, ya know?"

So, here goes:

     She's blonde. She's tall. She's gorgeous. She's your stereotypical, tan-skinned and blue-eyed California girl who doesn't even live in California.

     Am I lucky to have her as my girlfriend?

     Um . . . I'm not so sure about that.

     Macy sits two seats in front of me in English class. She's always twirling one of her golden ringlets around her finger, absentmindedly listening to our teacher drone about Shakespeare. I can tell when the other guys are trying to get a glimpse of her. They've got the whole turn-head-to-the-side-ever-so-slightly thing down to a science.

     But then they look back at me, and their dreamy expressions quickly turn to frowning faces. Simply because I'm the also-stereotypical jock who's dating the hottest girl in school. 

     Yeah, they may hate me. But Macy and I find it pretty hilarious.

     Well, she finds it hilarious. Now, after a year, it's really starting to tick me off.

     Macy and I first met in fourth grade, when we were seated next to each other in homeroom. Back then, of course, were the days when you made friends in five minutes, and we were no exception. I guess you could say we bonded over crayons and construction paper.

     Macy was energetic, talkative, and bubbly - the kind of girl you couldn't not be friends with even if you tried. I was the class nerd, glasses and all, with mile-long legs I didn't know how to handle and multi-colored braces. She says she took me under her wing, but I say just the opposite, knowing how she deserted me in seventh grade to hang with the "popular" crowd. Basically, I was left alone, with only my Nintendo DS to keep me company.

     But then, in the summer before ninth grade, good ol' puberty decided to visit me. The school football coach came not too long after that.

     All of a sudden, I was thrust into "that" group - the all-powerful jocks. With our buzz cuts and what were supposed to be muscles, we ran the school, accompanied by the girls, of course. That's when Macy came back into my life, complete with a new hairdo, a new smile, a new body, and a completely different opinion of me. She chased after me for a year or so, until I finally gave in and agreed to be her boyfriend.

     So now, as juniors, we're considered the cutest couple in the entire grade, which Macy loves and I couldn't care less about. Don't get me wrong, I did enjoy dating her, but as I said, I'm beginning to get pretty ticked off. Too many people despise me for my own safety and well-being.

     And of course, there's that other thing . . . .

     "Hi, Carter!" It's Monday, and as I scan the school hallway I see Macy, iPhone in hand, waving at me like a maniac. The thousand-watt smile on her face is unmistakeable - I could see it from a mile away. She runs up to me and throws her arms around my shoulders, which are a good five inches above hers.

     "Hey, babe," I say back, wrapping my arms around her tiny waist. She giggles in my ear, and I have to fight the urge to smirk at the girlish sound.