Fade or Burn

With two meetings

Elizabeth was pulling my hand and persuading me. Nothing strange, all as usual. — Come on! Just put down that book. Please, go with me! It's just one party... — she continued to make cute eyes, trying to influence me in some way.

Ella had always been an extrovert to the bones. I met her in childhood, just as most children of our age and social status get acquainted. It was my first day at a new school, I was so nervous that I felt sick, the bun on the back of my head seemed too tight, and my knees were shaking a bit. You probably understand: being the new kid is a crazy stress. I was standing at the front lineup, next to my new classmates, trying to look at something (just in front of me stood some bamboo guy).

Suddenly, a smiling girl fell on me from somewhere. I lost my balance, and we both fell on the asphalt. My face buried in her light hair. “Luck must have turned away from me today,” I thought, feeling my new nylon tights tear and cursing myself alongside this.

— Damn you... Sorry, I didn't see that idiot pushed me right onto you, — said my new acquaintance, trying to get up from on top of me without making it worse. She pushed herself off the ground and wiped her perfectly tanned skin the color of toffee from the asphalt dust.

— It's okay, I mean, on my first day at a new school, someone already knocked me over, — I said, trying not to look embarrassed, because all attempts to ease the awkwardness had failed and I awkwardly got up, glancing at the blonde. For some reason, people in our world still think they can crash into others' lives without any warning.

— O-o-o-oh, so you're the new kid, well then, I guess that means you are officially accepted! By the way, my name is Elizabeth. Don’t mind the name and just call me Ella, — the girl grabbed my hand and shook it energetically, without a shadow of doubt, then started brushing her tousled hair off her face due to the wind that was picking up.

— Nice to meet you, Miss Grace, — I remarked, thinking sarcasm had always been my specialty.

And we both started laughing so hard that teachers, students, and parents looked at us askance.

— I'm Adelina, but you can just call me Adele.

— Nice to meet you, “just Adele”! — the girl in front of me smiled again, showing her even white teeth.

The awkwardness disappeared, and I began to realize how much I liked Ella. I felt comfortable and pleasant by her side, which meant a lot to me.

Since then, we had always been together. People still often ask: “Are you sisters?”. Even though we didn't look alike at all in appearance or character. I inherited my dad's chestnut hair and my grandmother's light green eyes, and barely noticeable freckles that adorned my cheeks and nose, while Ella had light brown hair (though she dyed it blonde), almost chocolate eyes, and a clean, rosy face.

Speaking of talents, Elizabeth had an incredible knack for painting, while I had loved fashion and style since childhood. So we were like two “Twix” sticks complementing each other. I would come up with some new, unusual clothing design, and Ella would draw it. We became a fantastic team. A team that finally managed to fulfill its most cherished dream, no matter the cost... Perhaps this is where we should start this story.

Seven forty in the evening. Milan, Italy.

And my relentless friend continues to persuade me to go to the party with her. I resist. Well… For now. Why must I always drag myself somewhere when I have a free evening on the balcony with a book and a cup of freshly brewed tea or coffee?