A Cliche Teenage Story

Chapter 25

        I look around me. My room is in chaos, because I'm packing for the trip I am taking tomorrow morning to New York City. Clothes are strewn across the floor, along with whatever else I had the slightest thought of packing. And my suitcase, directly in the middle of my room? That's right; it's empty. Completely empty, not even the slightest sock gracing it's existence for carrying stuff.

          I look at the clock. Only 5:54 exactly. I have plenty of time. But considering I've been going at this for roughly an hour and a half already, and am no further then I was when I started, if not less far, then I have no time at all. At this rate I'm gonna go to New York City with an empty suitcase and the clothes on my back.

          "Honey! Are you almost done packing yet?" My mom asks from behind my closed door, and I sigh.

         "Uh, not really...." I say, my voice fading off. More like not at all!

        I can hear her sigh too. "That's what I thought. Which is why," she flings open the door, "I brought someone to help!"

        I stare at the now empty space my door was in, which is framing my mother. "You did what!" I screech. I do not need help packing! I'm 13 for goodness sake!

        "Brought someone to help. I'm sure you 2 will be done in no time. Well, I'm gonna go finish my own last minute preparations, so have fun ladies!"

        She leaves the door, and I see a unhappy Holly standing there, her arms folded across her chest. "Hi. Not my idea," she tells me right away, and I roll my eyes. Well, this will be a fun packing time.

        "Mom!" I call out.

        "Yes honey?" My mom calls back, in a voice warning me not to say anything that will make her unhappy.

          Darn. "Never mind!" I lie sweetly, and continue to look at Holly still standing outside the door. "You might as well come in, your not going anywhere apparently."

        She shrugs, and steps in gingerly, setting her purse down next to my door. She closes the door carefully behind her, which surprises me slightly, since I expected her to be the type to slam doors in this situation. Whatever.

        She stands there still, uncertainly. She doesn't know what to do obviously. I clear my throat. "So uh do you actually want to help me pack like they sent you in here for, or just sit on my bed and text your friends how terrible this is or something?" I raise my eyebrow in question.

        "Uh, I'll help pack. After all, that's what my mom sent me up to do. She came here to talk to your mom some about more last minute stuff and whatever."

        I raise my other eyebrow in disbelief. She's actually going to help me? That's a first. I stare at her warily; maybe she's just gonna, I don't know, sabatoge my packing somehow? I have no idea how she would do that though, so I grudgingly gesture to the clothes decorating the floor. "So help," I say, somewhat rudely.

        She shrugs, and looks around some more. How about we start with.... uh.... shirts? Or something. It doesn't really matter," She says quickly, blushing a little. Weird, she seems so much nicer then she used to be. Really, really weird.

        "Yeah sure," I agree, and start gathering up all my shirts and plopping it down on my surprisingly clear bed. "So I guess warm stuff and whatever, since it's fall. SSo that means sweaters also."

         "Mm-hmm, she says, sifting through the pile. "Here, this one is a must," She holds up a navy blue casmere sweater, and I must say that I agree with her on this choice.