We weren’t supposed to fly out until next week, but when Yana asked the rainers if they could book the flight earlier and to New York, they were surprisingly kind about it, so here I am, standing on America’s ground, without having to pay anything.
We lug our five suitcases and three massive bags into the hotel, navigating the revolving doors like seasoned travelers, even though my arms are threatening mutiny under the weight of my carry-ons.
The lobby smells like polished wood and some kind of sweet vanilla. Once we arrive at our apartment-style suite, I nearly faint.
It’smassive.
That’s an understatement, because I’m convinced this hotelroomis bigger than our apartment.
Three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen that can fit a volleyball team comfortably, and a living room that makes me question whether I’ll ever look at normal hotels again.
Everything is so pretty, and suddenly I understand Yana’s urge to take videos everywhere.
This makes no sense, but I am not here to complain.
“Yana! Who the hell do you have contacts with?” I throw my bag off my shoulder and spin like a child again.
“If only you knew,” she smiles. “I dibs the master bedroom!”
“No offense, but I think every room here is technically a master bedroom,” Zara says, eyeing her.
I can’t even speak; my jaw’s literally dropped in awe.
“Ok, the faster we unpack, the faster we get to sleep.” She steps through one of the massive doors, and I sit down on the couch.
When she comes out again, she looks at me sternly. “Make sure to take the dresses for tomorrow out so they can de-wrinkle.”
Then she turns to Zara. “I’ll wake you guys up at seven a.m., so keep that in mind when you decide what time you’ll go to sleep.”
When she disappears through her door again, I smile and rest my head on the pillow.
I feel so overwhelmingly grateful. I can’t imagine my life without everything I have today.
And I’m not just saying this because of the situation.
I love Yana and Zara so much. Not to mention Matt and Luca.
Each of us has our quirks and faults, but it makes us so special.
Moments like this, where we laugh until our stomachs hurt or cry until our eyes are red, are the glue that holds us together.
These girls are my sisters by choice, and I cherish them more than I can ever put into words.
This is a life I could have never dreamed of as a kid, and I am constantly hit with a tsunami of gratitude, because who am I to deserve this?
One day I was fourteen, stressing about my life in a summer camp where I got to learn about volleyball, and the next I’m nineteen, living with the best group of people and getting to call my passion a career.
What did I do to deserve this?
“What are you thinking about?” Zara asks, brushing a braid of hair behind her ear while glancing at me with a curious smile.
She is stunning.
I don’t really spend much time with Zara; she’s always in her own bubble, but it’s undeniable: her beauty.
She’s from Nigeria, and I had no idea Africa had such beautiful people.
Her face is so unique, and I constantly feel the need to compliment her when she’s around.
