Lalitha clutched Erin’s spare toiletries. “Holy crap, Erin. You know actual people live in Christchurch, right? They use lotion and nail polish and shampoo. They have stores.”
“But they don’t have CND Palm Deco. I checked.”
“Take the nail polish then. Skip everything else.”
“Li, just let me have this one thing.”
Lalitha rummaged in the bag. “It is literally twenty-three things.”
Erin was near tears.
“It’s your trip,” Lalitha said, pulling a box from the bottom of the suitcase. “What’s this?”
“Host family presents: books, Frangos, a framed Chicago Skyline.”
“Claire’s picks?”
“Yeah.”
“Tell her to choose lighter stuff next time: clothing, coasters, ornaments. Garrett’s popcorn looks like a substantial present, but weighs next to nothing.”
“That’s on the list, too. I’m buying it at O’Hare.”
Lalitha rolled up a gray cashmere sweater and nuzzled it next to the host box. “Saves loads of space. Roll everything.” She held up a multicolored striped sweater from the Gap. “But not this one.”
“It’s my favorite.”
“It stands out, so you can only wear it every two weeks or more. It’s wasted space.”
Erin rolled her remaining sweaters as Lalitha tucked coiled socks into her shoes.
_________
Two hours later, they sealed the FedEx box. Lalitha studied the room once more. “Where’s George?”
George was Erin’s cello. “My host family rented a cello so I can play in the school orchestra.” Cello was the only thing going right in her life. She hoped her record as fifth chair with the Chicago Youth Symphony Orchestra would encourage admissions boards to overlook five months in a tiny school orchestra.
“It kind of sounds like life down there will be a lot like life up here.”
“Yeah.” Wanting to believe it, Erin changed into travel clothes.
Lalitha stacked the last of the rejected items in the closet and teared up. “So, we’re done. And you’re really going to New Zealand. All alone. For half a year.”
“It’s only five months.”
They called it five months, but returning the instant school ended in New Zealand would keep her away five months, two weeks, and two days. A lifetime.
Erin said, “Send me texts. Tell me everything.”
“I promise.” Lalitha wrapped her arms around Erin, swaying dramatically as if her friend were never coming back.
Erin surreptitiously dropped her passport on her nightstand and wheeled her suitcase into the hall.
TWELVE
Sunday, her first full day in Christchurch, Erin leapt out of bed, pulled on her jacket and gloves, had the world’s fastest pee, and jumped into the shower.
Afterward, she couldn’t make her hair dryer work. Even though she’d plugged it into both the converter and transformer, it was dead. Heat from her shower disappeared through the bathroom’s enormous frosted window as Erin leaned against the towel rack, which stung her bare back.
Heated towel racks. Enveloped in her towel, Erin leaned against the warm metal to soak in its heat. Heavenly.
While Pippa showered, Erin pulled on her warmest pants and layered several shirts on top. Cashmere looked bulky over multiple layers, and wool was almost too hot. Almost. She settled on a solid parakeet-green V-neck sweater, with one base layer peeking beneath it. She hoped yanking the base layer around the top of her pants would keep her midsection warm without making her look frumpy.
Pippa had allotted exactly half the closet space for Erin. On one side, shelves were built in like cubby holes, and Erin filled the top three. She hung as many items as she could on her half of the closet bar but still had half a suitcase of clothes needing space. She jammed her open suitcase into the floor of the closet; clean underwear and socks could live there, out of sight.
Erin tacked Lalitha’s Catch Me if You Can poster near the head of her bed, then photos of her former swim team, her astrophysics study group, Chicago’s skyline, and herself at the beach with Lalitha. She unfurled her poster of Sol Gabetta, which she loved more for Gabetta’s gorgeous dress than her cello aptitude, and tacked it near the closet.
Fresh from the shower, Pippa said, “You’re decorating?”
Sheepishly, Erin flashed two thumbs up. “I hope they’re okay?”
“Sweet as!” Pip mimicked Erin’s thumbs up and pulled a paper from under her bed—the ERIN sign from the airport. “This too?”
Pippa’s eyes were so hopeful, Erin couldn’t refuse her, though hand-drawn signs weren’t at all to her taste. She hung it above her study group.
“Are those your best friends?” Pippa asked.
“Friends, yes. I spent three weeks at Harvard last summer. These guys were in my study group. They’re from New York, India, Canada, and Japan.”
“What were you studying?”
“Astrophysics, like science about planets and space and black holes.”
“What’s a black hole?”
I’m living in it.
“It’s a place in space so dense, and with such a strong gravitational pull, that nothing can get out of it, not even light particles.”
“If light can’t escape, how do you know it’s there?”
“Great question. Scientists use special tools.”
“Cool.”
Erin smiled and scanned her inbox on her phone. “It is cool. I need to run. Your mom is taking me school shopping.”
“I want to hear all about it later,” Pippa said.
Claire had emailed to inform Erin that a professional college admissions essay editor was reviewing her fourth draft. She also suggested Erin crusade to save the kiwi or yellow-eyed penguin to show she was immersed in New Zealand culture.
Erin dashed off an email: “Thanks, Mom! Off to buy school supplies.”
After a quick breakfast, Felicity and Erin set off in the Nissan, like a mother taking a young child back-to-school shopping. So much for independence abroad.
Back out in the city, Erin focused on her surroundings.
“Is this the way I’ll drive to school in the morning?”
“You’ll probably take the 81,” Felicity said.
So there were real highways in Christchurch. “Is the entrance
