Today, he seems to understand that I’m not in the mood to talk, so we wait in silence while my throat gets tighter and tighter. I’ve always resented the long hours of waiting at the border, but now that I know I won’t be doing this any longer, I’m almost nostalgic. I almost miss standing in line next to Bruno, even though we’re both still here, and even though I won’t be officially moving to Chula Vista until Monday.

The line moves slowly while the sun keeps rising, and it’s at least an hour before we reach the end of the bridge, which spirals down into a large room with shiny white floors, where the crowd breaks up into several smaller lines.

By now, I know most of the border officers by name—or by last name, at least, because that’s all that’s printed on the front of their uniform. I get Johnson today. He is very different from officers like López or Harris, who sometimes joke around with the students. He takes a quick look at my passport, scans it, and hands it back to me, barely even looking into my eyes.

“Welcome to the United States,” he says.

I look over my shoulder to check if Bruno is coming up behind me, but he’s nowhere to be seen. He must still be stuck in line, so I keep walking toward the exit, knowing he wouldn’t expect me to wait for him anyway.

I swing my bag over my shoulder and follow the crowd toward the MTS station. When I get on the trolley, I look down at the time. It’ll take me about fifteen minutes to travel a couple of stops and another ten to walk to school, which means I’ll be early today. It’s just as well. I have found myself running breathlessly into school too many times, so I’ve learned that it’s much better to be early than late.

A bell rings softly overhead, and a woman’s voice comes from the speakers.

“This is a blue line trolley, bound for America Plaza in downtown San Diego. All passengers must have a valid fare. There is no smoking or eating permitted on the trolley and—”

Leaning my head back against the window, I allow my eyes to shut just for a little while. The commute is never exactly easy, but today has felt particularly difficult. Even with the short line at the border, I’m exhausted already, and my day hasn’t even started yet.