There was a weird, awkward situation. Both Clara and Elena wanted to say something but couldn't find the words.
Elena's bright, cheerful mask was frozen in place. Her eyes wide with a million unasked questions.
Clara, for her part, looked like she'd rather be anywhere else in the universe.
But then the quiet street they were on started to notice them.
First, it was just a few students. Their eyes widened as they recognized the two most famous girls in their year. Then those students started whispering to their friends.
"Hey, isn't that Clara Lysandra?"
"And Elena von Dravien! What are they doing here?"
"Wait... who's that boy with them?"
Slowly, a crowd was gathering. Phones were starting to come out, their small lenses like a hundred tiny, judging eyes.
Elena's face went pale. The playful curiosity vanished, replaced by pure aristocratic panic.
"Looks like the situation is out of control, Clara," she said, her voice a low, urgent whisper. "Sorry, I can't help you. Bye!"
