San Antonio, Texas
1985
The teenager in the Mazda's passenger seat kept her arms tightly folded and the headphones of her Walkman clamped down immovably over her ears. Her mother should have known better, really. You can't force a fifteen-year-old to move away from all of her friends and expect her to be happy about it.
Somehow, though, that seemed to be exactly what her mother was expecting. She chattered away at the unresponsive girl. “And we'll be able to go hang out on the Riverwalk,” she was saying, as though the San Antonio Riverwalk was the be-all, end-all reason for moving anywhere. “And we'll be so much closer to your Aunt Cecilia, and there's the Alamo, and the culture is just so unique... Kim, are you listening?”
Kim was not listening. She was rolling her thumb across the Wa
