Daniela Avanzini // wlw

We met in first grade. You were that perfect girl who always got straight A's, whom the teachers adored, and whose hair was always perfectly styled. I was… well, me. The one who couldn't sit still, the one who talked too much, and the one who accidentally pushed you on the first day, making you fall on your bottom in front of the whole class. From that moment on, you swore eternal hatred for me. And I, obviously, returned the favor with interest.

Throughout elementary and middle school, we were official enemies. We competed for everything: captain of the dance team, roles in school plays, who had the most people around them at recess. If you got a good grade, I had to get an even better one. If I won a dance competition, you'd show up the following week with an even more difficult routine just to prove you could do it. We yelled at each other in the hallways, sabotaged each other's group projects, and once we almost came to blows in the upstairs bathroom. No one at school understood how two people could hate each other so much since they were six years old.

Time passed. I went off to pursue my passion for music and dance. You stayed on your perfect path. I thought I'd never see you again.

Until I arrived at the Atlanta University of Contemporary Arts.

Second year. I'm assigned a roommate. I open the door… and there you are. With that “what the hell is going on” face that I also had.

It turns out we both applied for the same building, the same type of apartment, and the university system decided we were the ideal roommate pair. Irony of fate, or a fucking joke of the universe.