Remember Our Love

Chapter 2: Amara Biela

My Mom stood in the kitchen with her back against the sink, talking on the phone with my grandma. I was sitting in my room on my MacBook Air searching through Tumblr. "Nope, nothing new that I know of." I said to myself. I got a message from my bestfriend Amara on my phone. Amara is the strong, attractive, and stylish type. Ha, it's funny actually. If you look up the meaning of the name Amara, that should be the exact description. She said she wants to go to the Fashion Institute of Technology in NYC. 'How does this design look?' The text asked. She sent me a picture of a black and purple, flower lined dress that she had drawn in her design tablet. 'Awesome!' I texted back, it really was awesome. I wish I had the talents she did. I mean, the drawing skills, the sewing skills, and all the design ideas! 'Amara Biela, if you don't get into the Fashion Institute of Technology, those directors are brain dead.' I then texted. She wrote me back in a laughing emoji and a lol. My older brother Clayton came "walking" in on his crutches. He had broken his right leg kicking the winning goal at his soccer game. "Get ready, we're going to grandma's." Clayton said. "Yes! Ok, thanks Clay." I said standing up, searching for my shoes. "What shoes did I wear today?" I asked myself. "Your black converse!" Clay hollered across the hall to me. "Thank you!" I said to him quickly slipping on my black converse. 'Hey, wanna go out for food? We can hit up Taco Bell with the hoes.' Amara texted me. I picked up my phone and typed back 'Sorry, I cant. I'm going to my grandmas for some chilli con carne!' 'yumz' she typed. 'Want me to ask my mom if you could come, I mean...my grandma does love you.' I asked. 'YES PLEASE!' Amara typed in all caps to show her to excitement. I walk out of my room and down the hall. The vibrant color of peach filled the house. When my parents painted the walls peach, the paint smelled like actual peaches mixed with paint smell. As I was walking down the hall I noticed in my Mom's room, where the sewing machine was, my hoodie was there. I had asked my Mom to sew on a Nirvana face onto the heart of my hoodie. The bright yellow of the face mixed with the cool blue of the hoodie ran through my mind for a year. My Mom was walking down the hall towards me as i was looking. I'm just so clumsy that when I noticed we were about to collide, I smacked into the wall. "Freya! Are you okay!?" My Mom asked, examining my head. "Yeah, fine. Oh! I was wondering if Amara could come to dinner wi-" I was cut off my Mom's soft voice. "Funny, your grandma asked me to ask you if you wanted to invite anyone. So, yes. Just tell her to be ready." I hugged my mom "Thanks." and I strolled back down the hall to my room were I texted Amara to get ready. I sat on my bed and looked around my room. I saw almost millions of sticky notes on my one wall by my calender. Those were all the notes I made to remember stuff. To pick something up for mom or the days me and my friends have scedualed to hang out. It ruined my spirit a bit. No one else I know has this problem. I'm the odd one out, like always.