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After Abby and I had been issued our uniforms and shoes, we returned to the dorm. On the way I told her the story of Gisselle's car accident and subsequent paralysis. She listened attentively, her dark eyes watering when I described Martin's funeral and Daddy's deep depression during the days immediately following.

"So you can't say the accident made her this way," Abby said.

"No. Unfortunately, Gisselle was Gisselle long before, and I'm afraid she will be this way for a long time yet." Abby laughed.

"Don't you have any brothers or sisters?" I asked her. "No." After a long pause she added, "I wasn't supposed to be born."

"What do you mean?"

"I was an accident. My parents didn't want to have any children," she said.

"Why?"

"They didn't want any," she replied, but I sensed there were deeper, darker reasons, reasons she knew but couldn't voice. She had already been more revealing than she'd intended, which was something I attributed to our getting along so well so quickly. It was natural for Abby and I to want to be close. Except for Gisselle, we two were the only girls in the dorm to be attending Greenwood for the first time. I felt that, in time, I could tell her my story; that she was someone I could trust to keep it locked away.

Back in our quad, we tried on our uniforms. Despite the sizes on the labels, they were big enough for us to swim in them. I decided these clothes were designed to keep our femininity a state secret. Dressed in a baggy blouse with a skirt that touched our ankles, we confronted each other in the sitting room and both fell into hysterics. Gisselle looked pleased. Our laughter brought the other girls out of their rooms where they had been organizing their things.

"What's so funny?" Samantha asked.

"What's so funny? Look at us," I said.

"The Iron Lady designed these uniforms herself," Vicki explained. "So don't complain too loudly."

"Or she'll burn you at the stake," Jacqueline added.

"At least we can wear our own clothes on weekends, at the socials, and when we get invited to Mrs. Clairborne's tea," Kate said.

"Mrs. Clairborne's tea?" Gisselle remarked. "I can't wait."

"Oh, she always has the be

st little cakes," Kate said. "And pralines!"

"A few dozen of which Chubs manages to shove into her purse and then hide somewhere in the room. I don't know why we don't have rats," Jacqueline said.

"What is this tea exactly?" I asked.

"It's not just one tea. It's frequent and by invitation only. Everyone knows who's been invited and who's not, and the teachers think more highly of you if you're invited more than once."

"Three times makes you a Tea Queen," Jacqueline declared.

"Tea Queen?" Abby looked at me, and I shrugged.

"You keep your tea bag each time you're invited and you pin it on a wall in your room like an award or a commendation," Vicki explained. "It's a Greenwood tradition and an honor. Jacki's right. Those who are invited often are treated better."

"She's saying that because she's a Tea Queen," Jacqueline quipped. "She was invited four times last year."

"And what about you?" Gisselle asked.

"Once. Kate was invited twice, as was Samantha."

"All new girls are invited to the first tea of the year, but that doesn't count because it's automatic," Vicki continued. "Where are the teas held?" Abby asked.

"At the Clairborne mansion. Mrs. Penny will take you up there and give you the history of the house. Here it's almost as important to know those facts as it is to know the facts in American or European history," Jacqueline said. Vicki nodded.

"I can't wait," Gisselle said. "Only I'm not sure I can take the excitement." Kate laughed and Samantha smiled, but Vicki looked shocked by what amounted to blasphemy at Greenwood.

"So," Gisselle continued, "when's the first monthly social, the one with boys?"