I searched the White Pages. Nothing
I searched Facebook. Nothing
I searched Myspace. Nothing
It was like she was completely wiped off the planet, with no goodbye.
The last time I spoke to her was in fourth grade.
The last time I had seen her was in third.
The last time we spoke she said;
"I will always keep in contact with you. I'm going to a new school, but we will make it."
She lied. We never spoke again. I called her a few weeks later. No answer.
I think I tried to call her a few more times, but I never got a hold of her again.
It's been seven years, and I still haven't heard from her.
I only recently started missing her. I don't know what caused me to remember her.
I didn't just wake up and remember, it was during the day. I'm not sure when.
I looked her up in my yearbook that night. Yes, I missed her.
So, I searched, but…nothing. Her name came up three times; fourteen, thirty-two, and twenty-seven.
None of these were her. She would be seventeen this fall.
I remember when we were growing up, we used to pretend we were sisters and we were going to become famous. I hope she perused that career.
She was really good at what she did.
She was a fashion designer.
She used to design my clothes, while I would sing.
But the year after she left, I stopped singing.
I hope she kept designing, she was better at it then I was at singing.
Anyway, I hope she isn't missing me the way I am missing her.
She had so much going for her.
She never needed me to slow her down.
Which is what I would have done.
I hope she has a new best friend. Or friends.
I hope they treat her with respect and dignity.
Our best friend anniversary is coming up.
It will be eleven years.
Since we met that is.
I think this might just be a phase.
Who knows? Maybe I will get over it tomorrow.
I highly doubt it, but it's nice to think happy thoughts.
After she left, I started playing sports.
We used to play with tea cups and make-up.
It was easier to do things that didn't remind me of her.
And that's when sports came in the picture.
I played more and more to get her off my mind.
Guess what? It worked.
Soon, I got a scholarship into Pure Horace Mantis
It's the best private school in New Jersey.
I got the scholarship from sports.
This is where I go to school now.
Everyone here comes to the games, just to support each other.
We're like a big family here.
It's because the school is so small and expensive though.
I always thought she would go to a place like this.
It was just so her.
I always hoped some miracle would happen and she would come here.
That dreamed died with sophomore year.
This year is junior year.
And I won't let a silly memory mess this up.
I'm going to move on.
Get a boyfriend.
Go to prom with him.
Become best friends with the girl who has been trying really hard to get through to me all three years.
Her name is Amy.
Yeah, Amy and Macy.
Not too shabby.
"Macy!" Amy yelled running to me with a tabloid in her hand.
"What's up Amy?" I start to walk out of the atrium with her.
"You'll never guess who is coming to our school!"
"Who?" I was genially excited to find out.
"JONAS!"
"OMG! JONAS? No, way!" We squealed like the girls we are and jumped up and down.
"Oh, and here is says another girl is coming with them." She says looking down to her newspaper.
"Who?" I ask once again.
"Their stylist says here they have been friends since fourth grade."
"Wow. That's a long time. What's her name?" I asked as we reached homeroom.
"Stella Malone." I Froze.
"Stella Malone?"
"Yeah, Macy, what's wrong?" She put a hand on my shoulder.
"Nothing," I reply. "Her name just sounded familiar." Too familiar.
"Oh."
"It's nothing, come on." I say pulling her into the class.
I was going to get over this. I really was.
"Hey, Amy?"
"Yeah, Mace?"
"When are they coming?"
"Tomorrow."
Tomorrow. Tomorrow was going to be a new day.
Tomorrow was going to be a challenge.
Tomorrow is the day Macy Misa moves on.
Somewhat based off a true story (manly just the beginning), but yeah.
So i hoped you enjoyed. I meant for this to be a one-shot...but possibly a two shot?
Your reviews will tell (: Thanks-with love