Nobody in Particular(5)

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 party except for 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. She shoots 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.”

Molly glares at me, apparently objecting to my teasing tone. Danni, however, appears to take it as I mean it, because she breaks into a deeply dimpled grin. Suddenly, all traces of nervousness have vanished. She’s blossomed into a different person. “It’s something,” she agrees. “Now, I already know your name, but maybe you could introduce yourself anyway?”

“Rosemary.”

“Rosemary or Rose?”

“That depends how much we end up liking each other,” I say.

“I’ll monitor it. You didn’t give me your surname,” she points out.

“I don’t have one.”

“Do you just like to stand out? Or are you not important enough for one?”

I rest my cheek on my balled fist, surprised at her gall. “Both, actually.”

Molly jumps in before we start having too much fun. “I ran into Danni when I got my senior cape,” she says. “She’s from America.”

My annoyance with Molly is at the forefront of my mind again, and it seeps into my tone as I grip the wet flute of champagne with the tips of my fingers and sit up straighter. “Oh, you’re from the American Blythes,” I say, feigning recognition. “Why didn’t you say so to begin with?”

“Rose, don’t be a shit,” Molly says blankly. “She can’t tell when you’re joking yet.”