Strings. Megan Edwards

wardrobe for long. Eleanor and Olivia were too busy laughing and making plans for me to feel self-conscious.

      “I’ll be playing all day, Ted,” said Eleanor. “You and Olivia will be on your own until six or so. How long did you sign out for?”

      Haviland required that all boarding students “sign out” when they left campus, which was only allowed on weekends and, if you were a senior with decent grades, a couple of evenings during the week. Students weren’t allowed to keep cars on campus, which, given the isolated location of the school, seriously limited your travel options unless you had local friends.

      “I said I’d be back around nine.”

      “Oh, good! That’ll give us time for dinner! Can we go to Carmen’s, Mom?” Olivia’s obvious enthusiasm for making the day last as long as possible lifted my spirits.

      “We’ll see, Livie,” replied Eleanor. “We’ll just play things by ear.”

      After four days of planning and worrying, I liked the idea of just letting things unfold. I liked Eleanor, too, and the psychedelic peace symbol stuck to her dashboard. I liked riding through the orange groves along Highway 150, and I liked that Olivia was humming as we drove. Our sweet and happy journey brought us at last to Isla Vista Park, where a jolly crowd was gathering and music was already rising over the lawns that sloped down to the sea.