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34

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"Ophelia!" My mom's voice calls from downstairs, already on the edge of not being able to deal with me.

"One minute!" I shout back, though let's be real, it's probably going to take me at least ten. I zip up my suitcase, glance around my room, and, of course, unzip it again because I've definitely forgotten something—classic me.

I grab my duffel bag, backpack, and check my carry-on like I'm about to defuse a bomb. Socks? Check. Chargers? Check. That emotional support book I'll probably never open on the plane? Check.

It's 10 a.m., and our flight is at 2 p.m. today. Today. Yet here I am, scrambling like we're running late for boarding. But my mom? She's one of those people who thinks being "three hours early" is somehow not early enough. Knowing her, we'll be at the airport before the janitors even clock in.

I take a final glance around my room. My eyes land on my iPhone, headphones, and trusty old iPod—the holy trinity of keeping myself sane on a trip. I toss them into my bag, mentally congratulating myself for not forgetting the essentials.

We're going to New York for a week to visit my aunt, which means two things: endless family meals where everyone will grill me about my love life (or, more accurately, the complete lack of it) and hanging out with my favorite cousins. Honestly, the cousins are worth the chaos. I can already hear us causing trouble all over the city.

I drag my suitcase to the top of the stairs, pausing for a dramatic moment to mourn the peaceful day I could've had if we weren't leaving. Why am I like this?

"Ophelia, move it!" My mom's voice slices through my self-pity like a hot knife through butter.

"Okay, okay, I'm coming!" I huff, lugging my suitcase down the stairs like it weighs more than my entire emotional state.

At the bottom, Mom gives me her "finally" look, while Dad sips his coffee in the kitchen, blissfully unaware of the chaos swirling around him.

Oscar and Lucas are in the middle of some heated argument, while Evangeline is trying (and failing) to keep Iris from bringing half her doll collection. I can't help but roll my eyes. I'm the eldest, yet here I am, still trying to make sure everything's packed.

"Guys, can we not start the day with a fight?" I say, shaking my head at Oscar and Lucas, who are way too absorbed in whatever ridiculous thing Lucas just said.

"Let them be," Evangeline says with a smirk, glancing over her shoulder. "It's Oscar and Lucas—they'll stop once someone says 'we're leaving in an hour.'"

I sigh dramatically. "As much as I love you all, sometimes I wonder if I'm the responsible one by default."

Evangeline laughs, clearly not denying it. "Yeah, you really are. Guess we better let you handle everything, huh?"

Just as I'm about to head out, Iris calls out, "Ophelia, look!" She holds up a doll with a grin that could rival a Cheshire cat's. "This one! She'll be perfect for New York!"

I stop, smiling at how determined she looks. "Alright, you win, Iris. But only because you're so dang adorable."

"Let's go, everyone!" Mom claps her hands like we're about to start a heist. She's got that "I'm in charge" energy.

"Mom, the flight's not until 2 p.m.," I remind her, but she just waves me off like I'm the one missing the point.

"Better early than scrambling at the last minute," she says.

I roll my eyes but keep my mouth shut. Fine, Mom, but if I end up camping out at the gate for twelve hours, I'm not sharing my snacks.