Don’t pack that, Petra chides me as I riffle through my closet, you won’t need a third pair of sweatpants.
Pajamas? I counter, even though I know she’s right.
You think you’re gonna need three sets of pajama pants and two pairs of pajama shorts? You know there are only four other Oregon packs, right? You’re gonna be gone for a week, not three months.
Fine, I pout a little, putting away my University of South Carolina sweatpants that I found at a random garage sale a few years ago. They had still had the tags on them, no idea why they’d never been worn. They’re extremely comfortable though, the inside lining a sort of fleece material that makes it feel like I’m wearing a cloud.
Rosa’s head pops into my room.
“Hey, Riley and I have finished packing, I wanted to see if you needed help,”
