Tuesday

1:13 a.m.

"Are you crazy?" Stella shrieked, sitting on the edge of her mattress.

"No." Macy rolled her eyes and pulled her extra large unicorn sleep shirt over her head. "And if you would stop interrupting me and let me talk for a second, you would know that."

"Fine," Stella huffed, stripping down to her coral Cosabella bra and thong. Her messy side braid flew in front of her face and she brushed it away. "I'm listening."

"Good," Macy smiled, satisfied. "So what I was—"

"I just don't get it!" Stella exploded, yanking her American Apparel boxers over her toned legs. "I mean, not only is it hard enough to get Nick Lucas to fall in or out of love with somebody, but you're trying to do this within a week?"

"That's all the time I have," Macy defended her plan, sticking her round chin out. "Remember, in a week, the JONAS tour takes place?"

"Macy, I don't get you—why can't you just do this after the tour?" Stella picked up her faded gray tee shirt. "It only makes sense,"

"I can't wait that long," Macy whined, rolling onto her back and propping herself up on her elbows. "I've already lost a day, so now I have to kick things into overdrive,"

"What are you going to do, become the next Amy Russo?" Stella narrowed her eyes. "Do you want to be known as the school slut?"

"Stella, I'm not sleeping over again if you're going to interrogate me!" Macy cried. "And to answer your question, no, I'm just going to…try a little harder, that's all."

"So you need…boy advice?" Stella said slowly, as if boy advice was an illegal drug smuggled across the border.

"Yes,"

Then Macy's eyes popped open as she realized who Stella was talking about. She knew that the only person Stella trusted or any boy advice was her older sister, Ashlynn Malone.

Macy could understand, why, though. Ashlynn was a total boy magnet. Boys were naturally attracted to her ash blond waves that tumbled down to her back and her large turquoise eyes, which were shadowed by thick, dark lashes. She was 5 foot 11, towering over Stella's 5 foot 4 and Macy's 5 foot 2.

And as if Ashlynn wasn't perfect enough, she also had a great personality.

The bitch.

Tuesday

1:35 a.m.

"So, let me get this straight," Ashlynn pursed her full lips and pointed her chopsticks at Macy. "You want this rock star to fall in love with you in a week?"

Macy shrank back. Now that it was coming out of Ashlynn's mouth, the plan sounded ridiculous.

"Yes," Stella answered for her.

Ashlynn paused for a split second before bursting into hysterical laughter. Salty tears ran down her high cheekbones and onto her satin navy chemise. Her screams of laughter made Macy want to giggle.

Stella was not amused.

The look of mirth on Ashlynn's face faded faster than a red sock in the dryer.

"Wait," Ashlynn's small button nose crinkled in confusion. "You were serious?"

"Yes," Stella said in a stony voice.

"Macy, do you really want this guy to love you?" Ashlynn leaned forward in her chair, the spitting image of Stella.

"Of course," Macy nodded, reassuring herself.

"Well, then," Ashlynn smirked. "You're ready,"

Tuesday

7:31 a.m.

"So you're a dancer, huh?" Ashlynn shouted over the roar of the blow dryer.

Macy had no idea why this was necessary. Stella had called her hair stylist, Zeke, to give Macy a before-school blowout, and now the floor was covered in what appeared to be dead hair(even though she swore she brushed).

"Yeah," Macy answered, just as the blow drying stopped. Zeke went to pack up his equipment and Macy was free to spin around in her chair.

"You know," Ashlynn started, a mischevious twinkle in her eye. "Guys like dancers 'cause they're…flexible." She raised her eyebrows suggestively and Macy turned red.

"ASHLYNN!" Stella bellowed, elbowing her sister hard in the ribs. Ashlynn clutched her ribs, laughing.

"What, it's true," Ashlynn laughed, ushering Macy to where her dress was laid out. Stella had insisted that Macy only wear her bra and underwear so hair wouldn't get on any of Stella's "priceless artifacts of clothing".

Stella rolled her eyes and forced the navy collared cap sleeve dress over Macy's head. Macy patted down her hair.

"Wear these," Ashlynn called from the depths of Stella's closet, tossing a pair of red and gray Gucci sneakers at Macy. "It will show the obvious athletic side to you, which guys love,"

Stella snorted. "So does that mean if I wear sneakers, I'll magically become good at sports?"

"No," Ashlynn snapped. "You don't wear sneaks."

Stella put Macy's hair in a high ponytail and tossed her a red Kate Spade tote. "I put your books in this."

"Thanks," Macy said, a little flustered.

"Oohh….you look so cute and althetic girly!" Ashlynn speed-clapped. "Now, let's go over the advice. Rule number 1?"

Macy bit her lip in thought. "Never start a conversation. Act like nothing is an awkward silence."

"Oh, brilliant!" Ashlynn cried, proud of her pupil. "Okay, rule number 2?"

"Be playful."

"A.K.A?" Stella crooned from the corner, where she was getting dressed in crimson bell-sleeved wrap dress.

"Sarcasm with a smile." Macy beamed, showing off her white teeth(which had been scrubbed for 5 minutes by Stella).

"And rule number 3?" Ashlynn's voice dropped to a dramatic whisper and she crossed her legs, Oprah style.

Stella hobbled over, one foot in a navy Christian Dior pump and the other in the red to it. "Which one?"

"The red one." Macy smiled. Stella and Ashlynn looked horrified.

"That's too much of the same color," Ashlynn shook her head. "She'll look like a siren. Go with the navy, Stellz."

"That's what I was thinking," Stella said slowly, staring at Macy strangely. "Athletes."

She hobbled off to put on her other shoe and Ashlynn went back to Oprah mode.

"Rule 3?"

"Never…" Macy bit her lip. "Never…."

"UGH!" Ashlynn cried in frustration. "Macy, this is the most important rule. You cannot forget this!"

Macy blushed, stumped.

"Never tell the male you like him first." Ashlynn pounded Stella's mattress for emphasis. "EVER!"

"Hello!" Stella raised her eyebrows. "I'm ready to go!"

Tuesday

2:45 p.m.

Macy strolled out of the gym, feeling free. Finally, she was wearing clothes she felt comfortable in: her soccer outfit. She wobbled along the freshly waxed hallway in her cleats, whistling "Down" by Jay Sean.

Her knees were covered in mud and grass stains. Her black soccer shorts? Soaked with dew. Her sports bra: muddy. And her hair: no longer in a high ponytail. She had taken it down and opted for a messy bun instead.

She looked like fashion roadkill, but she adored it.

Macy opened her locker and shoved the LeSportsac tote with the outfit Stella had picked out for her in it. She yanked out the rubber band restricting her hair and let the now water-wavy tendrils fall out of the bun and onto her shoulders. Then she sank down to the floor, rolling and unrolling the tops of her knee socks. The knee pads underneath them were beaten up, thanks to the practical refrigerator that was Callie Peterson. Suddenly, she noticed a pair of Converse coming her way.

Nick.

She sighed in defeat, not even bothering to try and change in the split second it would be before he was standing before her. She was too tired.

"Wow," he said, his eyes widened. He was smiling.

"Yeah, I got a little rough on the field," Macy answered, trying to keep the smile on her face. Always smile, Ashlynn had instructed her before she and Stella had left for school.

Nick came down to her level and sat down right next to her.

"Okay, so do you play every sport known to man or—"

Macy started giggling, and Nick stopped, smiling.

"or what?" he finished, chuckling.

"Yes, I think I do." Macy grinned. "Well, except for sky-diving, but I'm begging my dad. He's not letting me do it, though." She frowned. "He says I'll get hurt. And 'we wouldn't want that'."

"I wouldn't want that," Nick said softly, a silence between them. Macy tried to pretend it wasn't awkward, but it was. So she decided to break a rule.

"So, what are you doing here before 3, anyway?" Macy teased. "Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

"Nope," Nick shrugged. "Orchestra. I get out 15 minutes early. What about you?"

"Err," Macy turned her arm. "I got 'injured', so the coach benched me during the scrimmage,"

Nick examined the purple and black bruise. His face contorted in horror and Macy knew it was a mistake to show him her wound.

"Whoa," he ran his finger gently around the edge. Macy bit her lip to stop from crying out in pain.

"Sorry," Nick withdrew his hand.

"Um, what time is it?" Macy asked, pulling her cleats off.

"It's…5 minutes to three now," Nick said, his eyes widening. "Time flies."

"When you're having fun," Macy finished the quote softly. She stared at him. He stared at her.

"Um, ok," Nick got up off the floor, and helped Macy up. "See you on Thursday, I guess."

"Wait," Macy smiled. "Isn't tomorrow Wednesday?"

"Yeah," Nick shrugged. "But we have tomorrow off and JONAS has to read to the kids with polio—"

"Tomorrow's off?" Macy said, horrified. She'd already lost one day.

"Teacher Work Day." Nick grimaced. "Well, see you later,"

"See you," Macy said to Nick's receding back. Suddenly, the final bell rang and the students flooded out of the classrooms. But Macy was left, standing there by her locker in disbelief.

Tuesday

5:32 p.m.

"How come you never told me?" Macy whined from she and Stella's booth at the S Bar. Stella shrugged.

"I didn't know until Vera told me in Sewing Club,"

"But I've already lost a day," Macy whined again.

"Then," Stella smirked. "We'll just have to step things up."

That's it! :) You guys are awesome for reviewing and favoriting(new word) and alerting! Keep it up!