Anthony's point of view;
"How does this look, Anthony?" Macy asks. Macy Cottle. She's nineteen, has long strawberry blonde hair. Every guy has been after her ever since she moved here. Some might say I'm lucky Macy talks to me. "Looks fine." I say looking down at my phone, three missed calls from my mom. "You didn't even look at it." she says, I look up. She's standing in front of me, modeling a short mini skirt and a very, very, tight tank top.
"I did look at it." I tell her, he frowns. "Not until now, you didn't even compliment me." she scowls. I sigh, "You look wonderful, Macy." she still doesn't smile. "What? I just complimented you, didn't I?" she takes off her shoes and starts to get in the bed, where I'm at. "Am I not attractive, or what?" she lays beside me, her tank top is way too low. "I never said that." I tell her looking away.
"Anthony." she whispers, I look at her and she grins. "Am I beautiful?" she runs her hands up and down my thigh. Suddenly, it's not Macy I'm seeing. Its her! It's Sydney. She still looks the same, her long blonde hair, and her pretty blueish eyes. "Yes, you're very beautiful." I tell Sydney. "Really? Then kiss me, Anthony." she says, oh her voice! How I missed it! "Okay, I'll kiss you Sydney." I close my eyes and lean in.
"Wait. What!?" I open my eyes, it's not Sydney. Its Macy. I've done it again, I called her Sydney, again. "Oh gosh, Macy I'm so sorry." I say, her cheeks are red from anger. "I cannot believe you called me Sydney- again! What is wrong with you? Do I look like her or something!?" she sits up and is screaming. No, no. They look nothing alike. "No, it's not that." I whisper.
"I've been knowing you for a year, and you still call me Sydney when we are together." she looks at the wall. "Macy, I told you that I'm in love with Sydney. That's why I don't want nothing serious with you. We are just friends. Thats it." there's a pain expression on her face and it makes me feel bad. "Macy," she gets up from the bed. "Whatever, I'll see you around later." she walks out of the room and slams the door. Now it's just me, alone, here in my aparment. It gets lonely just here by myself. I shouldn't have let Macy left. I shouldn't have called her Sydney.
I can't help it though, I wish I woldn't think of her. I wish I could forget her, because she left me. She promised she'll be by my side. And where is she now? Who knows. Why did she leave? Who knows. And I hate myself for loving her so much.
YOU ARE READING
The stories in my flesh (Sequel to scars)
Teen FictionI look around the circle it's my turn to talk, I look down at my lap. " I knew a girl who liked to draw. She drew pictures that nobody saw, she was more artistic during the night. In the cold shower out of any sights. She kept a secret no one knew...
