Nina looked surprised. “No, because there are lots of people who want to read books but don’t want to acquire books.” She shook her head. “Those people go to the library, and if they want to own something they’ve fallen in love with, they come here. The books want to be read, I don’t think they care much beyond that.”

“I guess so,” said Laura, having never considered the inner motivations of books.

“Well, of course,” said Nina, who thought of little else. She paused. “Of course, you could take the bus down to the central library, which is an amazing place.” She looked curiously at Laura. “Are you going to get a car? It’s going to be very challenging to live here without one, although, of course, lots of people do it. In fact,” she said, her face brightening in the way it did every time a fact popped into her head, “Los Angeles has a lower rate of car ownership than Seattle.”

Laura hesitated. “I was planning on it, but honestly, the buses aren’t that bad, and owning a car is so expensive.” And ever so slightly terrifying.

Nina nodded but Polly was horrified. “Dude, you can’t not have a car here. How will you make a getaway?”

The other two swiveled to look at her. “What do you mean?” said Laura.

Polly seemed genuinely concerned. “What if you need to blow the joint, flee the scene, get out of Dodge?”

“Make like a tree and leave?” asked Nina, always up for a bad pun.

“Make like an atom and split?” added Laura, also ready to play this game.

Polly made a tutting noise. “It’s all very well to joke around, ladies, but a woman needs the independence and freedom of her own mode of transport.”

“I could get a bike,” suggested Laura.

“Oh great,” said Polly. “Sure. You escape a dicey situation and then immediately get mown down by a distracted driver. Have you seen how people drive in this city?”

The noise. The mirror. “Yes, actually, only just recently.”

Nina cleared her throat, but Polly held up her hand. “I can tell you’re about to tell me which other cities have worse drivers, or what the actual number of accidents per square yard is . . .”

“Well, you wouldn’t measure in yards . . .”

“But it doesn’t matter. My point is that riding a bike is dangerous, taking public transport is slow, and walking from here to UCLA isn’t practical.”

“Well, I won’t be here once school starts,” said Laura reasonably.

“Exactly!” said Polly. “There’s the problem. You have to get a car, so you can be here.”

Laura shrugged. “I’ll get around to it.”

“I have a mechanic friend who can help,” Nina said surprisingly. “He’ll help you find a good used car, he’s nice like that.”

“Uh, OK,” said Laura. “I’m going to head to the library, so . . .”