But that was OK. She was still here—she was still doing this. She grabbed her sleeping bag, and the backpack she’d stocked with books and food and anti-bacterial wipes, and got out of the car as quickly as possible; it looked like her mom might make one last attempt to talk Elena out of this. She rolled down her window to frown at Elena directly. “I don’t see a Portaloo.” Elena had said there would be a Portaloo. “I’ll figure it out,” Elena said quietly. “These guys are figuring it out.” “They’re men,” her mom said. “They can pee anywhere.” “I’ll hold it,” Elena said. “For four days?” “Mom,” Elena said. And what she meant was: We’ve been through this. We’ve talked about it for weeks and weeks. I know you don’t approve. But I’m still doing it. Elena dropped her gear on the sidewalk, behind a tall white boy who was second in line.
