The Art of Hope || Wattys 2017

Chapter 3 ➵ Packing Sucks

Alexander Hamilton - Hamilton Soundtrack by Original Broadway cast of Hamilton

I opened the door to see the shining face of Emilia. Her onyx skin and brown eyes sparkled in the sun. My best friend. She's just plain awesome.

She wrapped her arms around me in an embrace and I hugged her back. Her hugs were always the best. They were so comforting and tight, like she didn't want to let go.

"Oh, Em. I wish I could just stay like this forever," I said as I rested my chin on her shoulder. "I wouldn't have to move, we could stay with each other, I wouldn't have to deal with life."

"I feel ya Amster," she said, "but there's no time for tears. No crying. Not anymore. We are here to work!" She exclaimed as she released the embrace.

I groaned. "Whyyyyy?" I sounded like a child but I didn't care. Packing sucked, especially when you had to pack up everything you own.

"Oh hush, let's go."

"Fine," I said as I trudged up the stairs.

When we made it to my bedroom, Emilia went straight to business, "Okay, first we need to decide which suitcase you are going to take with you on the plane."

"That's easy enough," I replied, pointing to a bright magenta suitcase next to my closet. "That's the biggest and it has the most pockets."

She grinned. "Good choice," and then hastily grabbed the bag as I sat on my bed.

"Okay," she said as she flicked the bag open. "Clothes first. It can take up to two weeks for all your stuff to come in, so you have to pack about two weeks worth of clothes plus extra in case something happens,"

"Em?"

"Yeah?"

"I know all of this."

"Oh."

Silence.

"But continue," I said.

"Okay!" She said as her face lit up again. My friend loved to explain things to people. I never figured out why, it was just a weird thing she had.

She looked over at me and said, "Amara, get up. You have to do stuff too."

"Waaaahhh, but I don't wanna."

"Too bad. I don't know what clothes you like, and I am not, I repeat, not, going to do all of the work."

I stuck out my tongue at her. "Fine." Then I walked over to my closet.

Behind me, Emilia instructed, "Pack ten casual teeshirts that you would wear around the house or on walks or whatever, and then 5 nice-ish shirts or blouses that you would wear to something more formal. You never know what could happen in two weeks. Make sure to pack bottoms that you can mix and match with the tops so you can wear them more than once without repeating the entire outfit."

"You're the expert," I called over my shoulder as I sifted through my closet to find blouses I liked.

I settled on an off white cold shoulder lace blouse with a pink floral design on it, a baby blue ruffle top with flared sleeves, another creme top that was moderately tight with long sleeves, a very light purple ruffle top with flared sleeves and lace, and a yellow top with spaghetti straps and an extra little sleeve on the side for the side of my arm. I visualized each of the outfits before I picked them out. I threw them all on the floor and my friend grimaced at my style choice.