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And Ellie and me only ten minutes behind them. There must be an explanation.
    But worry tugs at me. What if? What if? What if what?

At Ellie's House
Friday, June 15
Nora
    R ALPH and Don head off to the school parking lot, and we take Chester Road toward the park and the path to Ellie's house. Charlie and Paul walk ahead, comparing their report cards. Ellie and I trail behind. She got straight As, which makes her happy. "If I do well on the college boards next fall," she says, "I'll be sure to get a scholarship to Saint Olaf's."
    I nod, still puzzled by her choice of colleges. Saint Olaf's is in Minnesota, where the winters are freezing cold. I'd rather stay here and go to Maryland Institute in Baltimore. My art teacher took us there on a field trip and I loved everything about it, how it smelled and how the students looked with paint on their clothes and how the light slanted in through skylights. And the easels—so many tall easels. It was like being in the woods. I hated to leave.
    Mr. Taylor says it's one of the best art schools in the country. The trouble is, it's really, really expensive, and my mother won't let me go. First she says she can't afford it, but more important, I'll meet the wrong sort of people. They'll be a bad influence. I'll get in trouble. What kind of trouble, I asked her once, but she wouldn't say. Which means it has something to do with sex, something she never talks about, only hints at.
Don't let a boy put his hand on your knee.
I think of my bony knees and wonder why a boy would want to put his hand on them. There must be more to it than that.
    It's a good thing she doesn't know how much I liked kissing Charlie. What if he puts his hand on my knee? Will I have to confess it? Will I have to confess kissing him last night? Is drinking beer a sin?
    Mom says I can major in art at Towson State. No college boards to worry about. Anyone who graduates from a Maryland high school can go there. The tuition's cheap, too. Three hundred a year. I'll be living at home and taking the streetcar, at least an hour each way. Maybe I should have studied harder, taken those boring classes like plane geometry more seriously. Then maybe I could get a scholarship to Maryland Institute.
    But truthfully I'm kind of afraid to leave home. What if no one likes me in art school? What if I'm not talented after all? What if the other students draw better than I do? What if I flunk out? What if I lose my virginity?
    Towson State isn't nearly as scary, plus I'd still have my room, dinner every night with Mom and Dad and Billy, just like always. What a baby I am. Afraid to leave home.
    Ellie pokes me in the side with her elbow. "You haven't heard a word I've said."
    "Sorry, I was thinking."
    "About what?"
    "Oh, I don't know. Nothing interesting." No use talking to Ellie about my worries. She's so smart, ready to go to college and major in physics or something brilliant. Loneliness jabs me like a stitch in my side. Will there ever be a person I can talk to about how I really feel?
    "Hey." Charlie turns and looks back. "You girls are really poking along. If you don't hurry up, you'll be late for the picnic."
    Ellie laughs. "The picnic's not till noon. It's only ten o'clock."
    Since he and Paul are obviously waiting, we hurry to catch up. It's much hotter now. We're at the end of Chester Street. The path dips down through a field and into the woods, still cool but more humid than earlier.
    As the trees close in around me, I hear Buddy's car somewhere behind us, probably on Chester Street. I recognize the sound it makes. I picture him driving up one street and down another, smoking a cigarette and looking for Cheryl and Bobbi Jo. Where could they be?
    Again, I push away the feeling something's wrong. This is the first day of summer vacation, we're having a picnic, then maybe we'll go to Five Pines swimming pool. Cheryl and Bobbi Jo will turn up with some crazy story. We'll all laugh.
    I look at the back of Charlie's head, at his