I settle into the corner of the bench and pull the elastic from my ponytail so my hair falls down my neck to block the breeze coming off the bay. The light rail clunks along the tracks and people dot the streets, headed into bars or nightclubs, some going home late from work. Laughter punctuates the crisp night and car horns blare. My worries and fears slide toward me when the cable car climbs the hills toward Chinatown.  Graduation. Possible internship with a top chef. Chance of culinary school in the fall. Nick’s frequent mention of “our” future together.  Getting out of a house that shrinks as Baba’s anger grows.