Other Books by Hannah Harvey
How I Got Here
A Strange Kind of Familiar
All available now on Amazon Kindle
For more information on the author visit her website
One – Libby
I've checked my luggage at least three times in the past half hour, and yet still, somehow, I'm not satisfied that I have everything I'll need. It's pretty hard to pack for any trip, but this one isn't just an average week long vacation with my parents. This is a whole summer in New York, and not even that, but it's a summer spent at one of the hardest to get into culinary summer camps in the country. I have no idea what I'll need with me.
Each time I check my bags I end up taking things out, adding more items or spending a long time questioning every last choice I've made. I check and recheck my packing lists, and alter them as I go. Now the neatly written list is marked with ticks, crossed out lines, added in items in every available piece of space. It's crumpled, ripped and hardly legible. I may as well throw it out, but I cling to it like a life raft in the middle of the ocean. Checking and rechecking.
I'm still checking things now, making final adjustments to my luggage even though I'm leaving in just under an hour.
I look around my room. It's small, up in the attic of our modest home and I share the space with my younger sister Pippa. The room isn't furnished with a lot of items, just our beds, mine on the right and hers on the left. Two little bedside cabinets between the beds on the wooden floor that's been painted white. At the end of the beds we each have a set of drawers and then there's a curtained off closet that we share. It's small but cozy.
Pippa's side of the room is decorated in a very African influenced style. Lots of oranges, reds, browns and patterned cushions layered up over her bed. Pictures, paintings, and tapestries line her wall. Her side is bright and vibrant, while mine is more subdued. I've styled my side after the beach. Lots of sandy colors, light blues and white. I have shells hanging from my headboard, sea glass in a mason jar on my bedside cabinet, and I've made a wall hanging out of driftwood, shells and string for my wall.
Two very different styles, pushed together in a small space, and somehow they work together in a way that always surprises people when they see it.
I'm going to miss this little room while I'm gone this summer. I'll miss Pippa, and my mom, and my step dad Matt. I'll miss my best friend Julie, who lives around twenty minutes from here, in Carver Key, the area of Carver which is littered with beach front mansions, and the prestigious country club. I'll also miss my other best friend Charles, who happens to be Julie's boyfriend and my next door neighbor.
Charles' house is attached to mine. On our street all the houses are in groups of two, then at the side that isn't attached to a house, there's a gated walkway into the backyards. My house is connected to Charles' house. That's how I met him.
In his house, Charles also has the attic bedroom which he shares with one of his brothers. He's the one who taught me how to climb up through the skylight in my room, and up onto the roof. I climb through it now.
It's morning, way earlier than I normally wake up, especially in summer, but Matt is driving me to New York this morning. He will need to get back to work tomorrow though, so it meant making a really early start today, so they can drive back tonight. My mom is driving down with us as well, and I know she's up already, fussing around making sure breakfast is made. Pippa is staying here, and I don't blame her. Bed seems like an extremely tempting offer right now.