The Quintessence of Macy Jensen

Far too gone was Macy Jensen. To say she was a loner would be an understatement; she was voted “most likely to become an old cat lady” in junior year. Her vanilla quintessence of hair got her the nicknames of “Goldie Locks” and “Blonde Bimbo.” It was funny, despite all the kids who just knew she was a fake-blonde, she never was and swore she would never be. Her wide sea eyes were icy and soft, and most labeled her expression as one of a deer caught in a headlight; and if you were to classify Macy Jensen, that was true. She was a deer caught in a headlight. And the headlights were those of life. She was a mess in Christmas sweaters and dark jeans, thick rimmed glasses and tacky earrings. She always wore those rip-off fur boots, the ones that ended all the way at her knee caps. Macy liked to wear home-made headbands, ones she made on weekends out of pretty flowers and wiry vines. She showcased them like they were the new Jesus and she was the virgin Mary, barer to her beautiful masterpiece. She didn’t party on weekends or invite friends over, she did the pure opposite. She sat with her cat in her lap, watching re-runs of Supernatural and blogging while eating a bag of gummy bears. But to Macy, that was the luxury of her life, something she looked forward to on the weekends.

On the contrary, Brett Marston was anything but gone. He was in his glory, with him being the captain of the football team and having all the girls at his disposal. His brown tasseled hair made all the girls swoon and his brown orbs had a tendency of changing colors. He was always clad in jeans and funny t-shirts, always accentuated with the classic varsity football jacket. The only shoes he seemed to wear were his black Nikes - always those damn Nikes every male student had. Brett was always surrounded by friends; whether they were his true friends or ones just acting the part. He was rarely home on the weekends; he attended parties everyday and usually ended up dead drunk, which resulted in him spending passed out nights on random floors. But he didn’t complain, no. While “hipster nerds” like Macy Jensen looked forward to snuggles with her cat and blogging her nights away, Brett looked forward to wild parties and random hookups.

And they say football jocks weren’t supposed to fall for wallflower girls.