“Don’t get so upset.” This is definitely not the reaction Gillian expected. Applause, maybe. A pat on the back. But not this sort of indictment. “We can put a brown tint over it, if it’s such a big deal.”

“It is a big deal.” Sally is having trouble breathing. She looks at the girl in the booth who is Kylie, or who used to be Kylie, and feels that she’s been hooked through her heart. She breathes in through her nose and out through her mouth, just as they taught her in Lamaze class so long ago. “Robbing someone of her youth and innocence, I’d call that major. I’d say it’s a big deal.”

“Mother,” Antonia pleads.

Antonia has never experienced humiliation quite like this before. Mr. Frye is watching them as though their family is putting on a play. And he’s not the only one. There’s probably not another conversation going on in the entire restaurant. The better to hear the Owenses. The better to watch the sideshow.

“Can we just eat?” Antonia begs.

The waiter has brought over their order, which he tentatively places on the table. Kylie is doing her best to ignore the adults. She imagined her mother would be mad, but this reaction is in a whole other dimension.

“Aren’t you starving?” she whispers to Gideon. Kylie expects Gideon to be the one sane person at the table, but as soon as she sees the expression on his face, she knows it’s not food he’s thinking of. “What’s wrong with you?” she asks.

“It’s you,” he says, and it sounds like an accusation. “You’re all different.”

“I am not,” Kylie says. “It’s just my hair.”

“No,” Gideon says. The shock is wearing off, and he feels that a theft has been committed. Where is his teammate and friend? “You’re just not the same. How could you be so stupid?”

“Go to hell,” Kylie says, hurt beyond belief.

“Fine,” Gideon shoots back. “Do you mind letting me out so I can get there?”

Kylie moves so Gideon can slide out of the booth. “You are an idiot,” she tells him as he leaves, and she sounds so cool she amazes herself. Even Antonia is looking at her with something resembling respect.

“Is that how you treat your best friend?” Sally asks Kylie. “Do you see what you’ve done?” she says to Gillian.

“He is an idiot,” Gillian says. “Who leaves a party before it’s even happened?”

“It has happened,” Sally says. “Don’t you see? It’s over.” She searches through her purse for her wallet, then throws some cash on the table to pay for the uneaten food. Kylie has already grabbed a piece of pizza, which she quickly drops when she sees how grim her mother looks. “Let’s go,” Sally tells her girls.

It takes Ben Frye this long to realize that he has another chance. Sally and her girls have gotten up and Gillian is alone at the table. Ben walks over casually, just like a man whose blood hasn’t heated up to a dangerous degree.

“Hey, Sally,” he says. “How are you doing?”

Ben is one of the few teachers who treat Sally like an equal, even though she’s only a secretary. Not everyone is so kind—Paula Goodings, the math teacher, orders Sally about, convinced she is some drone behind the desk, available to do errands for anyone who wanders by. Ben and Sally have known each other for years and considered dating when Ben first was hired at the high school, before deciding what they both really could use was a friend. Since then, they have often had lunch together and are allies at school meetings; they like to go out and drink beer and gossip about the faculty and the staff.

“I’m doing really poorly,” Sally tells him now before she notices that he’s moved on without waiting for an answer. “Since you’re asking,” she adds.

“Hi,” Antonia says to Ben Frye as he walks past her. Brilliant, but it’s the best she can do at the moment.

Ben smiles at her blankly, but he keeps right on going, until he’s at the table where Gillian is staring at the uneaten food.

“Is there something wrong with your order?” Ben asks her. “Is there anything I can do?”

Gillian looks up at him. There are tears falling from her clear gray eyes. Ben takes a step toward her. He is so gone, he couldn’t come back if he wanted to.

“There’s nothing wrong,” Sally assures him as she collects her girls and begins to troop toward the door.

If Sally’s heart weren’t so closed up at the moment, she’d feel sorry for Ben. She’d pity him. Ben has already sat down across from Gillian. He’s taken the matches out of her hand—which has that damn tremor again—and is lighting her cigarette. As Sally leads her girls out of the restaurant, she believes she hears him say, “Please don’t cry,” to her sister. She may even hear him say, “Marry me. We can do it tonight.” Or maybe she’s just imagining that’s what he’s said, since she knows that’s where he’s headed. Every man who’s ever looked at Gillian the way Ben is looking right now has made a proposal of one sort or another.