Katrina walked blankly to the corner, just as a bus whooshed away. No worries—she didn’t know the bus routes, and an unexpected bus fare was not in her budget anyway.

Katrina kept walking. In his email, Evan had written that this place was like a foreign country. Yet here were dentist offices and banks and businesses and cafés with clean glass windows, and streets with new Japanese and European SUVs.

For a while, she lost herself in the novelty of being in this new town. But eventually, her feet started to hurt, her rib was throbbing, and she was low on ibuprofen. And besides, she needed to use the bathroom.

So Katrina decided to buy a boba.

The boba would cost money, but she would also have a place to rest and think. Luckily, this street offered a boba shop every couple blocks or so. Soon, Katrina found a perfect spot to have a clean table, sip a kiwi boba, and watch the world go by.

But first, the bathroom.

The women’s room was locked. Eventually, a girl came out and gave her a disapproving look, but she didn’t block her way.

Katrina entered and began to fix her hair in the mirror. But then remembered the look from that girl.

The hair could wait. She needed to use the bathroom right now.

The seat was cool and clean. There was air freshener, a flower in a vase. She smelled lavender.

Rest. Breathe.

She had just finished when there was a knock on the door.

“Excuse me. Excuse me,” a male voice said.

She flushed, washed up, and exited the bathroom. She grabbed her things and left without stopping or looking up.

“Sorry, sorry,” she mumbled. “The men’s room was taken.”

Well, at least I didn’t have to buy anything, right?

Katrina told herself she should be thankful. Thanks to the part-time work, the cam shows, the blowjobs, she had escaped home and made it here. She had her violin. She had her laptop and a fresh supply of hormones. She was alive.

Still, was it so difficult to find a place to sit down?

Then Katrina saw a sign for El Molino Park.

Katrina did not know what El Molino Park was, but if it was a nice park, there would be places to rest. She pushed forward, past a 7-Eleven, past a Chinese herb store, a Mexican hardware store, a Vietnamese nail salon, a Taiwanese dance studio, more boba places, a dozen noodle shops …

And finally, after twenty more minutes, she came to El Molino Park’s parking lot, and then to the park itself.

There was fresh grass. Fresh dirt. Soda machines. People were playing basketball. Couples sat together on blankets. She heard the plink of someone hitting a softball. The snack bar was selling hot dogs and nachos.

How was this like a foreign country?