Evelyn dragged me from store to store as if she were guiding a lost tourist on a private tour. She tried on ridiculous hats, showed me sparkly tops I would clearly never wear, complained about mannequins, and even managed to argue—playfully—with a salesman who kept insisting on a pair of pants that would make me look ten centimeters shorter.
I laughed more than I expected to. When our arms were already full of bags, she pulled me by the hand toward the food court.
— Let's sit before my legs file an official complaint — she said, dramatic as always.
I grabbed a strawberry juice and sat beside her. Evelyn rested her chin on her hands.
— So… what are we doing after this?
I thought for a few seconds.Part of me just wanted to go home, hide, sleep.But the other part—the stubborn one—wanted to try moving forward, or at least pretend until I could.
— A movie? — I tried. — Could be nice…
Evelyn widened her eyes as if I had just committed a serious crime.
— A movie? A MOVIE? Helena, the plan was a bar. — She crossed her arms, offended. — You're not backing out now.
I sighed, defeated, but a smile slipped out anyway.
— Okay… a bar, then.
— YES! — She clapped loudly, drawing the attention of the table next to us. — And to celebrate your surrender, I'm going back to that store with the blue blouse. I NEED it for tonight.
— Evelyn, for the love of God… — I laughed. — I'm done shopping. I already have enough clothes for the next ten years.
She made a dramatic face.
— Oh, poor thing! You know nothing… once bitten by the fashion bug — she lifted her hand as if giving a fake blessing — …there's no salvation.
I shook my head, laughing.
— Okay, so let's do this: after the mall, you come to my place. We get ready there and then go straight to the bar.
Her eyes sparkled.
— Perfect! Let's go to that other store too, I want shoes to match the blue blouse.
I laughed.
— But I'm not staying out too late — I warned, pointing a finger at her. — Tomorrow I need to be well. I want to listen to the classes Daniel sent me, make some notes…
Evelyn rolled her eyes, amused.
— Model student… never changes.
She finished her juice in one big gulp, stood up like someone given a sacred mission, and reached her hand toward me.
— Come on. There's a blue blouse waiting for me, and you have a new chapter to honor tonight.
I laughed again as I got up.
— You're impossible.
— That's exactly why you love me — she winked. — Now move.
We left the mall carrying more bags than I intended. Evelyn, of course, looked like she was in paradise, while I walked behind her trying to balance half my self-criticism with half my purchases.
When she raised her arm to call a taxi, I let out a dramatic groan.
— Evelyn… I shouldn't have bought this much — I complained, adjusting a bag that was about to tear. — Honestly: I don't think I'll use half of this in my entire life.
She widened her eyes, purposely offended.
— Blasphemy. — She tapped my arm with the back of her hand. — You know absolutely nothing, Helena. This is only the beginning.
I laughed, defeated.
The taxi stopped in front of us and we got in. Evelyn kept talking about possible outfit combinations, shoes that "were still missing," colors that suited my skin. I let her talk… deep down, it was good to have my mind filled with anything other than a certain dark-eyed boy.
When the taxi turned the corner of the ground-floor house, it was already getting dark. The orange streetlights flickered on, and for a second, I swear I saw a silhouette stepping away from the window. Tall, broad-shouldered, tense posture.
My stomach tightened.
Before I could be sure, the person disappeared inside.
Maybe it was just my imagination. Maybe not.
I paid the fare, thanked the driver, and pushed the gate open. The garden was quiet, filled only with the smell of the flowers Rafael always cared for. Evelyn stayed cheerful, completely unaware of the tension that crossed my chest for a moment.
We climbed the stairs, and I opened the door to the small apartment.
— Yay! — Evelyn walked in before I even turned on the lights. — Time for the transformation ritual.
— Ritual? — I laughed, closing the door.
— Of course! — she explained, tossing the shopping bags onto the bed like a deck of cards. — First, we choose the outfit. Then: hair, light makeup, accessories… and voilà, you're reborn for the bar tonight.
— I was counting on your help — I admitted, leaning against the wall and kicking off my shoes.
— My dear… — She crossed her arms. — If it depends on me, no one will be able to take their eyes off you tonight.
My cheeks burned, but I didn't respond.
While she emptied bag after bag, spreading tops, dresses, pants, and jackets across the bed, I realized her energy was almost contagious.
— So? — she asked, holding one of the dresses against her chest as if measuring it on me. — What vibe do you want?
— None specifically — I laughed. — I trust you… pick whatever makes me look less… awkward.
She scoffed, offended.
— Awkward where? Helena, you just need a little style push. And I am that push.
Another laugh escaped me.
Time went by as Evelyn tested pieces on me, folded others, compared tones, mixed textures, made combinations I would never imagine on my own that — somehow — actually worked. The bed turned into clothing chaos, tags everywhere; the mirror, poor thing, was already full of fingerprints from how much she moved it around.
After trying on half a dozen outfits, we found it… the one.
A straight black skirt that made me look more grown-up. A light top that brightened my face. A jacket that pulled everything together. And sandals that Evelyn described as "the exact dose of danger."
She clapped when she saw me standing in front of the mirror.
— Ready for makeup? — she asked, already opening my makeup bag as if it belonged to her.
I looked at my reflection. The new haircut… really did look made for me.
I took a breath.
— Ready.
Evelyn sat me at the desk, turned on the side lamp, and worked as if she were preparing an actress for a red-carpet event.
— Close your eyes… that's it… don't move… — she muttered, focused.
When she finished me, it was her turn to get ready. And, as always, anything she wore looked like it had been designed just for her. Every piece fit perfectly, like something from a magazine.
While she retouched her lipstick, I went to store the leftover clothes, stacking the empty bags. When I opened the wardrobe, Evelyn was suddenly behind me, examining the shelves like she was evaluating a serious case.
— You know, right? — She crossed her arms, lifting an eyebrow. — When new things come in… the old ones have to go.
I looked at her with a small laugh.
— You're telling me to donate my old clothes?
— Some of them. — She tapped the pile of forgotten shirts. — Open space attracts good things. Keep that in mind for tomorrow or next week… but do it.
I nodded, feeling that comment hit deeper than I wanted to admit.
— Mission for later — I murmured.
She smiled, satisfied.
We grabbed our bags, locked the door, and went down the stairs. Evelyn was thrilled, dreaming of drinks, music, and laughter. I… I tried to keep up, tried to look more excited than I really felt. The taxi pulled up quickly, and Evelyn practically jumped inside.
I got in after her, settling the bag on my lap. The driver confirmed the destination, and we headed off.