Karina only hoped the same would be true for her. She had chosen the University of California Santa Barbara because it had a strong science program, its large student body offered anonymity and her significant merit scholarship would limit how beholden she was to her father for financial support. He’d been disappointed when she wasn’t admitted from the Stanford wait list, but Karina was secretly relieved. Stanford was too close to home and the thought of staying there suffocated her. But from UCSB, L.A. was a stone’s throw, and the beaches of San Diego and the thrill of Tijuana were just a short drive farther south. Las Vegas and Palm Springs were a few hours to the east, and from there, the entire country lay. There was a great swath of the country that she hadn’t yet seen: nearly forty states, according to the map above her desk at home, which had stopped acquiring thumbtacks after their last family trip with Prem, to the Grand Canyon.

College would be a fresh start for Karina. She had even left under her bathroom sink the kit in which she stored her safety pins and razor blades, buried in a shoebox full of makeup that her mother had relinquished to her a few years earlier. Karina was leaving all that behind too, in hopes of new friends and a new life, where she would not feel the urge to cut herself anymore.

19 | Karina

September 2013

The dorm orientation meeting was at 7:00 p.m. and Karina found herself pacing around her empty room in anticipation. Her roommate hadn’t yet arrived, and her parents had left after taking her out for an early dinner. She had been looking forward to this moment of pure independence, but now found herself nervous. Happy sounds of laughter and chatter came from the other rooms down the corridor. Karina changed her T-shirt three times, trying to achieve the unattainable right look.

At 6:40, there was a commotion at the door and Karina jumped up to open it. On the other side stood a girl with a pillow under her arm, dragging a large suitcase behind her. “Hi,” she said. “I’m Stephanie. We must be roommates.”

“Great! I’m Karina. Do you have more stuff downstairs? I can help you bring it up. There’s a dorm meeting at 7:00.” She heard herself speaking quickly and tried to slow down.

“Nope, this is it.” Stephanie plopped down on the bare mattress. “My dad dropped me off and had to turn around and drive back to Redwood City for work tomorrow. He’s on a big construction job right now. New office building, six stories, all glass,” she said with pride.

“Wow, that’s . . . that’s a lot of driving.” Karina thought of the luxury hotel room in downtown Santa Barbara where she and her parents had stayed the night before.

Stephanie shrugged out of her backpack, leaving it on the mattress. “Ten hours in one day.” She smiled wearily. “Most time I’ve got to spend with him all summer. He works so hard.” Stephanie Cortez, Karina would later learn, was a first-generation American, the first in her extended family to go to college and imbued with all their hopes.