OCR Text |
Show reformatory. In addition to all the rules, there were no boys. Even though her mother hadn't allowed her to date yet at home, there had still been boys in the school to put on lipstick and comb her hair for. Most of the time T. J. and his friends didn't act like she existed, but there was Fred Hill who walked her home from school sometimes when she didn't have ballet, and at the class dances he often chose her to dance when it was boy's choice. Kim stared out the window at the surging traffic, and then at Isabel, who was sitting next to her. When she glanced more closely at Isabel, she recognized her as the girl with the gold charm bracelet on the orientation tour. Kim guessed it was her father who had given the money for the Mary Park Dobson Recital Hall. Isabel had her chestnut hair pulled back with the same gold barette, but she wore no bracelets today; only a gold ring on her little finger with the initial 'D' in curly writing. Her skin was tan and she looked like a model for some teen-age Magazine. Miss Hawkins, the resident counselor for the sophomores as well as the Social Director, was driving. She had firey red hair and didn't look much older than Maureen or Isabel. As the van headed from wooded town to town, the wind turned cold. Just beyond a large veteran's cemetery that marked the city limits to San Francisco, wisps of fog appeared 24 |