In A Song

December 1st

My alarm goes off and I groan.

I don't think it's physically possible to get up at 6:30 on a normal day. Let alone the time I'm up now which is 6:05.

What the hell?

I awake to see Aria, up and active, sleep mask over her messy hair.

"Aria? Why the hell are we getting up at this time?" I groan.

"I need at least a half-hour extra for me to get ready," she says, as if it's obvious.

"Well, I should've known that after three months, I guess." I somehow manage to sit up, my hair falling into my face in messy waves.

"Get up, your mom will be up here in like an hour."

"Yeah. An hour. I'm not required to spend forever on my hair." My head falls back on the pillow.

From the bathroom, she adds, "You need to finish packing."

As much as I hate to admit it, she's right. I get up, throw some clothes into a backpack, and find something comfortable to wear.

Today is the day we have to fly to California. Freaking California. And it's Friday. Which is okay, I guess.

Somehow, the school managed to send like twenty five students to California, book a hotel for two night, and back. They might have a ton of money. I guess that coming from a poor school, I don't really understand this concept.

Aria stayed the night at my house. It just made it easier for everyone. I had to get a bag and necessities.

I look out of the window. Just as the sky starts to get lighter, it gets cloudier. Typical Washington.

"Aria? How long are you going to be in there?" I knock on the bathroom door. "I need to do my makeup."

"Come in." She sounds tired. Well, you would be if you got up at 6.

As soon as I walk in, the smell of hair products hits my nostrils and I gag. "That's enough to wake me up." The fluorescent light also blinds me. I apply eyeliner and mascara, and a small amount of concealer to cover a weird part of my face. All that in the same time it takes Aria to curl her hair.

Is there enough time to take a small power-nap? Sure. It's like 6:15 now.

I rest my head down on the pillow.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

I wake up again to my mom shaking me. "Sweetie. Get up!"

I groan. What time is it?

I think I might've said that aloud.

"It's seven now," Aria says, zipping up her suitcase.

"Cool." I feel way, way better now. My eyelids aren't close to dropping anymore.

Mom hands me a Starbucks. "We have to have everything in the car and leave in ten minutes."

Every group is required to have a parent chaperone. My mom is the chaperone for our group. Meaning she has to get us to the airport, through security, to the terminal, and on the plane. She's basically the expert on that, seeing as she used to be a flight attendant. But first we have to drive to the school so we can get a bus to the airport.

I drag the one suitcase I have to the car with a tote containing stuff for the three hour flight and necessities to the car, and it's there with two minutes. Now for the real challenge: Aria's bag.