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“Wow!” John stated in amazement. He was genuinely surprised by the expression.
                  We each had a piece of the chocolate cake, and then rushed to the bus stop to make the movie. On the way there, John turned to me, and quietly said, “Thanks.”
                  “For what” I asked.
                  “I know she had nothing to do with that, so thanks.”
                  We went to the movie. We had fun. I don’t remember much, except that suddenly, Friday afternoon, and my mother’s Honda, seemed to come a lot faster than I expected.
     
     
    ***
     
     
                  Friday night was spent having dinner with my family. My brother, Cooper, was a sophomore at a Catholic, all-boys high school.
                  I’m pretty sure my mom made chicken pot pie and French fries. We all stayed up late at the kitchen table talking about anything from current events to latest books we were reading. I told them stories about the girls on my floor, including plenty where I imitated Molly’s accent and said things like “I’m gonna go git me a shower,” and “There’s pine straw all over these dang windowsills!”
                  We probably all watched The Tonight Show together, my parents excusing themselves to bed after the monologue. And then my brother and I most likely found some crappy eighties movie like Meatballs or Midnight Madness on late night TV, and giggled together at the familiar, corny jokes into the am.
                  People never really believe me when I tell them that our family was pretty free of excessive drama. It was a good way to grow up. I’d recommend it to anyone.
     
     
    ***
     
     
                  Penny and I made the best of our day in Boston. At the Boutique Unique, on Newbury Street, I picked up a black, vintage men’s blazer, which was actually small enough to fit me without alterations. At Saks, I splurged on a pair of black leather cowboy boots.
                  Maybe Molly and her Texas talk was rubbing off on me, but I think it was more about the way the pitch of the heels made me stand. My butt looked really good in my faded Levi’s. I’ve never been able to wear flat shoes since those boots.
                  Penny and I may not have had much firsthand experience with boys, but both of us had been blessed with good genes, looks-wise, and were both late-bloomers. Together, we often passed as sisters, but only by people who were not looking closely enough. Both of us had each struggled with our weight, and now that we were both thin, we abandoned all baggy clothes so popular at the time, for the more form-fitting kind. But we were never trashy. We each had too much snob for that.
                  Later that evening, sitting behind home plate at Fenway Park, Penny asked me if I really was planning on transferring schools. She wanted me closer to Boston so we could take the train to see each other on weekends. I guess she sensed what I did not. Our lives were moving quickly now, and if we lived them apart, things would change. Penny hated change. College was turning out to be no more fun for than for me.
                  But I had a sense that, despite the applications to various big-city colleges sitting in my desk drawer back in The Pit, I needed to finish what I had started. And that meant sticking it out for at least a little while longer in that one horse town that was feeling more and more like home.
     
     
    ***
     
     
                  I arrived back at Wyndham Hall that Sunday afternoon, around five-thirty. The floor was quiet. Most of the girls were at dinner, or at the library. Our door was wide open. Molly was sitting at her computer, writing a letter to her best friend back in Texas.
                  It was a time before Facebook and Instagram and texting. I imagine it must be easier now,