Page 4 of Nobody in Particular

“Oh,” I say. “Which school?”

Molly shoots me a look as though I’m being purposely obtuse. While it’s possible I am being obtuse, in my defense, it’s certainly not on purpose. “Bramppath,” she says, and I realize my misstep too late. This girl must be attending under one of the music scholarships. They’re the only scholarships available that offer a fully funded place. They’re quite competitive, too.

“A musical prodigy,” I remark. “I’m sure we’re lucky to gain you. What do you play?”

Danni opens her mouth as though to answer me, but then she falters. “Piano, but… how do you know I’m a musician?”

Two mistakes in a row. It’s a blessing Mum and Father aren’t here to witness this, or I’d be in for a lecture. Remarking upon class differences is classless; those would be Mum’s exact words.

Molly watches me with curiosity, apparently in no hurry to save me. So, I make my best effort to recover myself. “You have piano hands,” I say. Stealing a glance at Danni’s fingers, it’s not a word of a lie—theyarelong. “Have you had the chance to meet everyone here, then?”

It’s a dig at Molly that goes right over Danni’s head, as it’s designed to. Molly meets my eyes but says nothing. At least I’ve let her know I noticed her speaking to practically every person at the partyexceptfor me.

“I think so,” Danni says. She speaks with a thick American accent, untouched, as far as I can tell, by any Hennish cadence. A recently immigrated scholarship student, no less. “I’m never going to remember all these names.”

“Well, if you can remember anything, try to focus on surnames,” I say. “They’re generally more important in this crowd. And if all else fails, remember Kwon and Kowalczyk, and you’ll be in good hands.”

Eleanor climbs onto her knees to hang over the back of the couch and nod at us. “Kowalczyk would be me,” she says to Danni, reaching out for a handshake.

“Got it,” Danni says with a nervous smile. “And who’s Kwon?”

“Who’s Kwon?” I repeat, unable to keep the bafflement from my tone. I point a helpful finger at Molly. “That’s Molly Kwon,” I stage-whisper.

“Okay, Rose,” Molly snaps. Defensive of her new best friend, it would seem. “I didn’t tell her my surname yet.”

“I hope I didn’t just give away a secret, then.”

Does Molly not want Danni to know she’s a minor internet celebrity? Or does she not want Danni to look her up for another reason?

I realize, too late, that this might very much be the case. If Molly’s new friend doesn’t know what happened in Amsterdam yet, perhaps she’s hoping to keep it that way for the time being. I may not have many lines I wouldn’t cross when it comes to stirring someone up, but even I know Amsterdam is off-limits.

“It’s not a secret, it just didn’t come up.” Molly’s tone is about as tense as I’ve ever heard it, and I must not be the only one who notices, because Danni jumps in with a hasty subject change.

“So, everyone here is from, like, a mega-rich family?” she asks.

Eleanor and I exchange an incredulous glance. Even Molly cracks a reluctant smile.

“Quite,” I say faintly, and Eleanor chokes on her laughter.

Molly jumps in. “All Rose means is, surnames are how we figure out our mutual connections. It’s not all snobbery.”

“Only ninety percent or so,” Eleanor adds with a mischievous grin.

“Like,” Molly goes on, “Eleanor’s a Kowalczyk, and half the families at school are represented by Kowalczyk and Nought. The law firm,” she adds, when she notices Danni isn’t following along. “Or Alfie over there. His mum’s Helen Paget-Harrington, and the Harringtons are one of the oldest families in the country.”

“And the Pagets are… nobody in particular,” Eleanor says. Sheshoots me a guilty glance—she is, after all, talking about close family friends of mine—but I give her a curt nod of agreement, so she continues. “Alfie’s dad immigrated from London ages ago and clawed his way up the ladder here.”

Danni gives an uneasy laugh. I’ve only just met her, so it’s possible I’m misreading her expression, but she appears to be studying Eleanor and Molly as though they’re an alien species. “Huh,” she says. “I don’t even know what most of my friends’ parents do for work.”

Molly touches her arm gently. “You don’t need to know this stuff. You’re not getting quizzed on it or anything.”

Danni tilts her head. “I guess I’m pretty much like a Paget. My last name doesn’t really mean anything.”

“Maybe not,” I say with a shrug. “Best to share it anyway. You’ll stand out less that way.”

She locks eyes with me so sharply I wonder if she somehow forgot I was sitting here. “Fine,” she says. “Whatever. Then I guess I’m Daniela from the nobody-in-particular Blythes.”

“Well,” I say, “it would seem you’re now Daniela from Bramppath. That’s something, at least.”

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