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I nodded but couldn’t help thinking that she was comparing me with Alena and was very disappointed. I wasn’t coming home as buoyant and happy, perhaps, or at least excited enough to cheer her up and help her forget any dark thoughts, and I never rushed to have her embrace me. I was still haunted by dark thoughts of my own, and neither the size of this house nor all of its luxury could shut them out completely.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“What? Oh, yes, yes. Well, there’s nothing more we can do about it, is there?” She shook her head and then smiled. “But do tell me about your day. Were you absolutely amazing in instrumental class again?”

“Any day Mr. Denacio doesn’t slam his hand on the desk and rant about how little everyone is practicing is a good day for me, as well as the others. I like the music he’s chosen for us to play at the next concert. I guess that shows when I play. He looked very pleased.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” she said, and stood. “And guess what? My college daughter called finally to tell me she was growing more serious about this young man, Richard Nandi Chenik. I asked her what that meant, and she just laughed the way she does when she doesn’t want to tell me something and said, ‘Let’s wait and see.’ What am I waiting to see? I hope she’s not getting herself into any serious trouble,” she added, glancing at the computer. The implication was clear. If I knew something about it, I should tell her.

“I don’t think so,” I said.

“But you don’t know?”

“When it comes to Kiera’s

love life, I don’t think even Kiera knows,” I said, and Jordan laughed.

“How true. And your love life?”

“Well, as a matter of fact, I was coming to see you to ask if I could invite someone over after school tomorrow,” I said.

She tilted her head and looked at me with suspicion. “Not that dreary boy you and Jessica described, I hope.”

“He’s not really that dreary. I got to know him a little better,” I said.

“You know, I do worry about you even more than I worry about Kiera these days, Sasha. Most girls wouldn’t be able to contend with what you’ve experienced, but all that’s happened damages you in ways that even you are not aware of. Believe me, you are still very fragile.”

“I know. It’s all right. I’ll be fine,” I said.

She hesitated and then nodded. “Okay. I’d like to meet him, actually, and Donald will be home tomorrow, remember, so he can meet him as well. I’ve always trusted Donald’s impressions about people. It’s part of what he does, his training and his success.”

For a moment, I wanted to change my mind. The one thing that I was sure Ryder would hate would be to be put on display or obviously evaluated. I know I wouldn’t like it, but I supposed it was only natural for parents to do that, especially today. Everyone was worried about the influence of other teenagers. It seemed that no one’s son or daughter could ever be the originator of trouble. It was always because of someone else’s child.

“What are you planning on doing with him? Playing tennis? Studying? It’s not really warm enough to swim outside, but I suppose you could swim in the indoor pool. Would he like that?”

“I’m not sure what he likes and doesn’t like to do,” I said. “I’m not even sure he will want to come here.”

“Really? Well, if anyone thinks he’s too good for you, he’s not good enough for me. Remember that,” she said. She glanced around the room once more and started out.

After she left, I tried to concentrate on my homework, but my mind kept drifting back to Ryder. I took out his cell-phone number and put it on my desk. I was still very hesitant. Maybe Jordan was right. Do you know what you’re getting yourself into? I asked myself once more. You put on a good act, but Jordan is wrong when she says you are still very fragile.

I returned to my homework, but from the way my mind kept wandering, I knew I wouldn’t get much done until I confronted this question. Finally, I made the call. My heart was thumping so hard in my ear while the phone rang that I wondered if I would hear him when he answered. If he was in the slightest way sarcastic or nasty, I was determined simply to hang up immediately.

“Central casting,” I heard, and for a moment, I did think I had called the wrong number.

“Ryder?”

“Ah, and to whom might I be speaking this fine day?” he asked in a pretty good Irish brogue.

“Mademoiselle Sasha Porter,” I said.

“Herself, is it?”

“In the flesh. Do you always answer your phone like that?”

“I don’t usually answer my phone,” he said.

“Then why have it?”