James, 15, stood in the middle of his room, staring at the open suitcase on his bed like it was a puzzle he had no idea how to solve. Socks were everywhere, shirts half-folded, and he had already zipped and unzipped the bag three times trying to make it all fit.

Meanwhile, in the next room over, Grace, 19, had her suitcase perfectly packed—of course. Every item was rolled neatly, labeled pouches for her makeup and electronics, and her passport and boarding pass already tucked into a sleek travel wallet.

“James!” she called, walking into his room with her own suitcase rolling behind her. “We leave in less than two hours. Please tell me you’ve actually packed and not just… thrown your clothes into a tornado.”

James looked up, grinning sheepishly. “Define ‘packed.’”

Grace sighed, but she was smiling. “You haven’t even packed your toothbrush!”

“I’ll just use yours.”

“Absolutely not,” she said, throwing a rolled-up pair of socks at his face. “Okay, you need t-shirts, shorts, something warm in case the plane’s cold, and definitely something decent to wear when we land. We’re not arriving looking like hobos.”

James grabbed a hoodie and stuffed it in. “You’re so dramatic.”

Grace crossed her arms. “Says the guy who once packed five hats and forgot underwear.”

“That was one time!”

With a laugh, she started helping him fold his clothes properly, even though she pretended to complain the whole time. “You’re lucky I love you,” she said. “Because if you were anyone else, I’d let you show up to the airport in your pajamas.”

James looked at her. “I am wearing pajamas.”

“Exactly.”

Once everything was finally packed—barely zipped, but packed—they both dragged their suitcases to the front door where their parents were already waiting. Grace double-checked their passports for the third time, then looked over at James.

“Ready for takeoff?” she asked.