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“Everybody knows Sasha, right?” Kiera said.

“Right. Hi, Sasha,” Boyd said. He was as blond as a blond could be, I thought. He wore his hair long, but it was neatly styled. Like most of the boys in the school, he had a light tan, but even his tan couldn’t hide the freckles that randomly ran over his forehead and down his temples.

“She’s a tennis player?” Ricky asked. He had dark brown hair and soft brown eyes. A little taller with wider shoulders than Boyd, Ricky looked more athletic, and I thought he was better-looking.

“What makes you think you are?” Boyd asked him before Kiera could respond. The girls laughed.

I had met Deidre before at the house when she had come to watch a movie with Kiera, and I had seen Margot with Kiera often at school. She was much shorter and over-weight. From the way I saw her following Kiera around, she looked content to be in her shadow.

“Sasha is just learning,” Kiera said. “Don’t make a big thing of it,” she added in a threatening tone.

“Who here isn’t just learning?” Margot quipped. She smiled at the boys. “About everything.” They all laughed, and she looked quickly to Kiera to be sure she had said something Kiera would appreciate.

“Whoever sits out takes Sasha on the other court and practices with her. Make sure she has the right form,” Kiera said.

“She looks like her form’s all right to me,” Boyd said.

“Will you shut up and just do what I say? Didn’t I tell you he was an idiot?” Kiera asked me as we headed for the tennis court. Everyone laughed. “Before we’re finished, you can come in for me and get some experience.”

“I can’t be any good yet.”

“Breaking news,” Ricky said, turning back to me as we walked. “None of these girls is.”

That started a playful argument and some challenges. Deidre was the one who sat out the first set, so she and I went to the second court. Before we did anything, she paused, looked at the others, and then leaned toward me.

“Hey,” she said. She had her hair cut short, in almost a pageboy style.

I hadn’t noticed it before, but she had a dimple in her left cheek that flashed in and out when she spoke and smiled. “You’re doing a very nice thing for Kiera. I think it’s really big of you.”

I had forgotten for the moment that she was the one who knew everything. From the way she spoke, I assumed that Kiera had told her about her therapy, too, and even what she would ask of me. I didn’t know what to say, so I just nodded.

“Let’s hit a few balls easy,” she said. “Kiera showed you how to hold the racket and swing so you don’t develop tennis elbow?”

“Yes.”

“That’s the most important thing. I’ll keep an eye on it for you.”

She went to the other side, and we began. Just like Kiera, she hit the ball softly right to me, which made me look better than I was, I’m sure. Before she changed with Margot, she showed me how to hit backhand and practiced it with me. Margot was just as considerate and nice. I couldn’t help wondering if they were really this way or if they were afraid of Kiera, who kept an eye on us even while she played.

As she had promised, Kiera asked me to step in for her. “Just for a few minutes,” she told me.

I was reluctant, but both of the boys insisted, too, and when I did take Kiera’s place, I didn’t do so badly. At least, that was what they all told me.

The whole time, I felt strange about how I was reacting to being with Kiera and her friends. I would never say I wasn’t having a good time—a very good time, in fact—but the more fun it seemed, the more guilty I felt. They all continued to be very nice to me, and once, when Boyd made a slightly sarcastic remark about my being inoculated to live in the same house as Kiera lived in, she pounced on him so hard he seemed to wither under her words. I felt sorry for him and told him it was all right. I knew he was just joking.

Afterward, our lunch was brought out for us just as it had been when I saw them at the pool that first day. Rosie brought a tray of hamburgers, salads, and chips. I waited to see if one of the boys or even one of the girls would pour some whiskey into our drinks, but this time no one did. We sat at the tables, and I listened to them gossip about other kids in their classes. Even though I had nothing to say, I felt that they were including me. Every once in a while, one of them would ask if I knew this one or that one. Of course, I knew no one. Margot’s comment each time was, “You’re lucky. Isn’t she, Kiera?”

“We’re all lucky,” Kiera said, and gave me a look to indicate that we shared some deep secret. I saw that Margot was actually jealous.

Afterward, we all did go swimming. Kiera, Margot, Deidre, and I went into the house so Kiera and I could get our suits. The boys changed in the cabana. I was nervous about it, of course, expecting a replay of what I had witnessed before, but everyone seemed different, a lot more restrained. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was only for my sake. The boys fooled around, teased, and splashed, but no one did any nude swimming and when the music came on, they danced and invited me to join them. I refused, but Boyd insisted, and then he and Ricky pulled me onto the dance floor, and both danced with me, one turning me toward him after the other had danced with me a few minutes. I was very self-conscious about my movements, but no one seemed to notice or care. I couldn’t even recall when I had danced last, but I was sure it had been in our apartment, when Mama and I had still been living in an apartment.

Later, when we were all pretty much exhausted, we sprawled on chaise longues and sipped lemonade. The afternoon sun was falling below a row of trees to the west, and the cool air was refreshing. I had to admit to myself that I hadn’t felt this content since I had arrived there. Everyone was so quiet that I thought they had fallen asleep.

Then Boyd spoke up. “Hey, what are our plans for tonight? I think we should go to this new, fabulous pizza joint on Venice Beach that Julian was talking about yesterday,” he added before anyone could reply. “Afterward, we could do the boardwalk and gape at the freaks. What do you say?”

Kiera turned to me sharply. “I’m not in the mood for Venice Beach,” she said, still looking at me. “Let’s do West-wood.”

“Boring,” Boyd sang.

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