Page 2 of Nobody in Particular

Mom bites her lip and folds her arms. I think by trying to give her an out, I’ve accidentally embarrassed her. “It’s fine, honey.”

“I can get one later, right?” I ask Hellene in a squeaky voice. “If it turns out I do really want one or whatever?”

Something that looks a whole lot like relief sneaks across Mom’s face. “Is the sweater decorated with precious jewels, by any chance?” she asks Hellene, who breaks into a peal of laughter.

Something moving next to me catches my eye. Molly has crouched down to my level to help me gather the packages. I smile, half grateful, half wary, as she dumps them back on the empty chair. “Thanks.”

“No worries,” she says, before lowering her voice. “I wasn’tlaughing at you. I was laughing at Hellene. I’m pretty sure she’s flirting with your mum.”

Hellene’s leaning over the desk while she explains the forms to Mom, right up in her personal space. Maybe my “she’s putting on an act for her job” theory was only half right. Molly and I sit down next to each other, and I whisper back, “You think?”

“I’m ninety-nine percent certain.”

I’m not sure if the joke is how awkwardly obvious Hellene’s being, or if Molly just thinks the idea of a lesbian is hilarious. Please let it be door number one. If I meet a student who actually seems nice, only to find out they’re homophobic? I might walk out that door and keep going until I reach Colorado, swimming abilities be damned. “She’s taken,” I reply carefully.

She clicks her fingers in a “dang” sort of way. “Hellene will be so disappointed. She divorced her wife last year and we’ve been telling her to get back out on the dating scene. Guess she finally listened to us.”

There’s something about the way she says it that gives off major green flags. I’ve had years of practice paying attention to how friends and family talk about the queer people they know, trying to gauge if they’d be safe to come out to one day, when I’m ready. So, I’m not psychic, but I’m at least able to make a pretty educated call here. This girl doesn’t seem to be awfulora homophobe. Even better, she doesn’t seem to find me especially unbearable.

The panic I felt during the tour has eased up. Like, a lot.

Molly nods at the uniform pile. “Senior cape, huh? Fifth or sixth year?”

“Fifth.” Otherwise known as junior.

“Oh, same as me,” she says. “This your first time boarding?”

“Yeah. First time in Henland at all, actually.”

She gives me an overexaggerated look of surprise. “What? I would’ve never called it.”

“Nothing gave me away at all?”

“Could be a local for all I know.” She scrunches up her nose as she says this, and I grin.

Mom glances toward us, and gives me an encouraging thumbs-up. I pray to sweet baby Jesus Molly didn’t notice her.

“Is it weird? Moving to a totally different country?” she asks.

“A little. I was excited to see everything, but my mom and her hus—my stepdad—have been busy with moving and immigration stuff, so I haven’t had anyone to do anything with. I’ve pretty much stayed holed up in my room the whole time.”

I regret the words as soon as I say them, but I can’t suck them back in. I sound like an antisocial loser with no life.

Thankfully, Molly doesn’t seem put off. “I’m actually having a get-together at mine after lunch on Saturday for a few of the fifth years. You should come by if you get tired of your room.”

I can’t disguise my look of surprise and Molly must notice my face, because she clarifies. “You’d be doing me a favor. I need an excuse to spend less time with… certain people.”

I want to ask why she’s inviting people to her house if she doesn’t want to be around them, but I decide to leave it. Bring on the rich-people daytime rager.

“Well, obviously, my social schedule’s packed,” I say airily, and Molly grins. “But, yeah, weirdly enough, I might be free.”

“Cool,” Molly says. “You’ll be able to meet some of the girls from our class.”

“Is Princess Rosemary in your class?” Mom asks. I hadn’t even noticed she was eavesdropping. “I mean, does she attend with everyone else?”

“She doesn’t have a contagious disease, Mom,” I say, pleading with my eyes for her to stop before Molly uninvites me.

“Princesses have tutors,” Mom says, getting all defensive.

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