Nobody in Particular(3)

“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 awful or a 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.

“Rose attends normal classes,” Hellene cuts in. She does not look happy to be left out of the conversation. “I’m sure Daniela will get to meet her.”

“Oh, really?” Mom drags the word out and wiggles her eyebrows like she’s implying this is great news for me, personally. Like I’m a social climber who moved countries so I could hang out with the princess of Henland.

This is right at the upper limit of my embarrassment tolerance. I’m gonna have to go ahead and disown my own mom now, which is obviously not great, because I really liked her before this conversation.

Dying inside, I mouth “sorry” to Molly. She looks … not exactly pissed off, but definitely grim. All the friendliness has been zapped from her face in one hit.

I’m doomed.

“Will the princess be at the party?” Mom prods her, because she wasn’t done with the humiliation just yet, I guess.

Molly darkens even more, somehow. “Yeah, she will,” she says in a clipped way. Finally, Mom takes the hint, and turns back to Hellene.

I don’t know what it’s like to grow up with a monarchy, but I’m pretty sure some people feel strongly about the royal family here. There are magazines dedicated to them by the grocery store checkout, and bumper stickers with the royal crest stuck on the back of cars, and the immigration office has a floor-to-ceiling portrait of the king and queen hanging in the entrance hall. But if I had to take a safe bet, Molly doesn’t seem to be one of those people.

“Woo, royalty,” I say in a quiet, mocking voice. Sorry, Mom. It’s every girl for herself out here, and if I get uninvited from this party because my mom has no chill, I will nurse that grudge until my dying day.

Luckily, my bet is right on the money, because Molly sinks into her seat as all the tension leaves her shoulders. “Everyone’s coming over around one-thirty,” she says. “Can I grab your number? I’ll text you the address.”