"Uh, just the weekend," I replied.

"It looks like you're going for a month, with all that stuff," she said. "I don't think you really want to carry so much junk around while you're there. Let's see what we can leave behind."

We sorted through my things and I ended up leaving the raincoat (rain wasn't forecast, and Stacey said she could lend me a jacket if a sudden storm came up), two of the books (Stacey pointed out that I wouldn't have much time to read), the clock radio and the shampoo and conditioner. I hefted the overnight bag again. "You're right," I said. "That's a lot better."

Just then Claudia, Dawn, and Mary Anne rode up Stacey's driveway on their bikes. "We're coming to the station with you," said Claud. "We wanted to see you off before our meeting starts."

"If s going to be so weird to have a meeting without you guys," said Mary Anne.

"You'll survive it, I'm sure," Stacey wisecracked. "Just don't spend all the money in the treasury as soon as my back is turned."

"As interim treasurer," said Dawn, "I'll make sure they don't dean out the bank." She saluted.

"Okay, girls," called Stacey's mom from the

porch. "Let's get going. You've got a train to catch!"

We drove to the station and ended up standing around for about fifteen minutes, since the train was late. We were clustered underneath the sign that said NEW YORK BOUND TRAINS. What is it about waiting for a train when people are seeing you off? Nobody ever has a thing to say to anyone else, and you feel so awkward. Everybody keeps glancing down the track, looking for the train.

And that’s what we were doing. Once in a while someone would say something like, "Be sure to eat one of those big hot pretzels you can buy from the carts on the street," or "Say 'hi' to Bloomingdale's for me!", but in between, was this nervous silence. I was relieved when an announcement blared over the loudspeaker. "The 5:05 train bound for New York will be leaving on track 2. Two minutes to boarding time."