Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White

Brown-black hair fell from her shoulders. Her eyes glistened with a sort of wild curiosity and excitement. Nose too blunt to be on the Queen's, and ears hidden beneath her hair. A body so curvaceously structured, I saw peaks and valleys. She walked down the corridor and heads involuntarily turned. Both girls and boys. Ghost white skin flushed with a pink as the sun made her shine with a layer of perspiration. Lips like hers, I noticed them from a mile. What's the colour? Ah yes. Primrose Garden. She ran in the sun, sometimes, shot a mischievous look, flashed a smile, and God knew I hadn't seen a more beautiful person. An angel too, perhaps? Not hard to compare.
My first impression of Dolly. I didn't know her then. But boy, did I want to. Beautiful, intelligent, independent and wild. The perfect combo.
A year. I got close to Dolly. She was a sweet girl. And I got close to Bobby. I think I liked him. But then Bobby and Dolly got close. So incredibly close that they fell under a mystical spell. Bobby now claims that Dolly put him under a curse, sucked the life out of him, made her his only obsession. Yet he loves her, he can't let her go. But Dolly wasn't a witch. That much I knew. They had a pleasant time, their grades reflected that. Phone calls twenty four/ seven. Valentine's Day -- flowers, cakes and kisses. Envious of their love, I distanced myself from cupid's scene.
Another year. Dolly became my best friend. We designed matching prom dresses. We planned to get our children married. Dolly still loved her guy, but that didn't bother me. I had someone too. And I was too preoccupied to see a sudden change in Dolly. Apparently she had become plastic, oh, annoying as hell. I argued no. Others just didn't get her like I did. She told me something she had done, I still haven't told a soul. I didn't judge her, true, but I shouldn't have let it go. That year, I discovered Dolly like never before, like someone discovers a pearl hidden away in a deep sea bed. She was precious, definitely more than just a pretty face. I promised her, if she wrote a book, I'd read it. She loved and she inspired. She was my person and I knew her inside out.
A summer. I was away and everything had changed. Dolly changed too. She blew a bubble. Hid inside. Shut out everything else but her music and Bobby. She coloured her lips, decorated her eyes, painted her nails. She told me, insecurity stared back in the mirror if she didn't. She was herself, but I didn't recognise her any more. She looked the same, but just not as beautiful. She talked endlessly but she didn't really talk, you know. What she did, she did for Bobby, she said. What love can do to you. Yes, Dolly, it changed you, crushed you and you still begged for it like water in a drought. Lana's Video Games. That's how she felt. Wasted tears, broken dreams. Did it do you good, Dolly?
Now. Some people say Dolly's gone nuts. Maybe. She's misunderstood? Maybe. No one likes her any more. Maybe. Dolly needs help but she's not listening. Yes. She's not enigmatic, just untold. Yes. Can angels lose sight, lose direction and crash? I hope not. She won't be missed. No, she will. She doesn't have friends. No, she does. She still has me. Do I pity her? Not entirely. I need her as much as she needs me. I miss her, truth be told. So incredibly much. She's deep down in her ocean, somewhere. But she still has me, somehow, grasped tightly. And here I am, friends with a stranger. Friends, nevertheless. She deserves that much.

*Title from Louiguy's "Cerisier rose et pommier blanc".