Anna didn’t respond, mainly because the only thing she could say that wasn’t a lie was that she was happy to see him, too. She had just had one of the most fun dinners of her life. During the meal, she kept wondering if she had wasted years being with Alexander, because with him, meals were totally different. All Alexander and his friends talked about was schoolwork, politics, and the environment. Her boyfriend was very active when it came to environmental issues and political activism. But tonight’s dinner conversation was more about art, creative pursuits, fashion, and celebrity gossip, which she knew her bf would have found frivolous and lowbrow. I’m only seventeen … isn’t it my time to be silly?

“Anna?” Vronsky said, interrupting her thoughts. “Earth to Anna, come in, come in.”

Anna laughed, embarrassed to have spaced out in front of Vronsky. “Sorry. I’m just not used to this kind of party. It’s like we’re all playing dress-up in some crazy castle. Dinner was so, so…” She hesitated, not wanting to sound like a wide-eyed simpleton in front of him. “It was just so fun. I loved it. Beatrice is incredible.”

“That she is,” he replied. Vronsky was now sitting on the bed. “She’s like Vegas: all fun, all the time. But you’ve got to know when to leave, or you’ll end up in rehab or the subject of a true-crime podcast.”

All Anna wanted to do was take a running leap and flop down onto the bed next to Vronsky, but she knew she couldn’t. That’s the kind of thing one did with a boyfriend, and she already had one of those. She wasn’t sure what her next move should be.

“Should I leave?” Vronsky stood up and smoothed the wrinkles from her bedspread.

“No!” she cried. “I just … don’t know what I’m going to wear tonight. Any interest in judging a costume fashion show?” She was tired of worrying so much about what was proper and what was not. She wasn’t doing anything wrong; she’d told him that she just wanted to be friends. Friends can ask friends to help them decide what to wear to a costume party, right?

“Nothing would make me happier,” he said, his face glowing. He waved Anna to the door that led to the bathroom and commanded, “Go on, let the show begin!”

“We need music, please. I heard from Lolly every room has its own jukebox?”

Vronsky rolled across the bed to the other side and stood up. “As you wish,” he said. “One eighties dance track coming up!” He walked over to what Anna thought was a wacky robot sculpture in the far corner of the room. “Do you recognize this guy?”

“No,” Anna said. “Should I?”