Sixteen years later….
*Olivia*
My shoes squeaked against the vinyl floors of the airport as my heart hammered in my chest. It finally occurred to me that Dahlia and I were really doing this. We were in fucking Italy, planning to start school in just a few short weeks.
We’d been talking about it for years. Dahlia and I grew up as best friends, mostly due to proximity. My mom cleaned for her parents, and we were always at her family’s mansion. It also helped that Dahlia and I were the same age, so we went through everything together–learning to ride a bike, puberty, prom, everything.
Now, we were embarking on our dream of starting school in Italy, but taking the summer to enjoy it first. After all, what fun would it be living in Italy if we had to be in school all the time? Thankfully, Dahlia’s father spoke fluent Italian, and she had taken the time to start teaching me in elementary school. We’d basically been preparing for this our whole lives.
