She ignored Molly’s sullenness. “I don’t envy you going back. I hated it when I was there.”

“I don’t have much choice, do I?”

Phoebe went completely still as an eerie tingling traveled up her spine. Molly’s face was stiff and inexpressive except for a small quiver at the corner of her mouth. She recognized that stubborn face, the refusal to ask for help or admit to any weakness. She had adopted some of those same strategies to survive the misery and loneliness of her own childhood. As she watched, she became even more convinced that the idea she’d been mulling over since yesterday was a good one.

“Crayton is small,” she said carefully. “I always thought I’d be happier at a bigger school with a more diverse mix of students. Maybe you would, too. Maybe you’d like to go someplace coed.”

Molly’s head shot up. “Go to school with boys?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“I can’t imagine what it would be like to have boys in the classroom. Wouldn’t they be rowdy?”

Phoebe laughed. “I never went to school with them either, so I have no idea. Probably.” Molly was exhibiting the first display of animation she had seen, and Phoebe continued cautiously. “There are some fine public schools in this area.”

“A public school?” she scoffed. “The quality of education is so inferior.”

“Not necessarily. Besides, anybody with your IQ could probably educate herself, so what difference would it make?” She gazed at her sister with compassion and said softly, “It seems to me that making some friends and enjoying being a teenager is more important right now than jump-starting calculus.”

Molly’s protective shell clamped shut. “I have dozens of friends. Dozens of them. And I happen to enjoy mathematics. I would never subject myself to an inferior education just to go to school with some silly, adolescent boys, who, I’m certain, wouldn’t be nearly as mature as all my boyfriends in Connecticut.”

Phoebe had to hand it to her. She was willing to brazen it out right to the end.

Molly’s small lip curled. “You wouldn’t understand since you’re not gifted.”

“I hate to disillusion you, Mol, but my IQ isn’t anything to sniff at, either.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Pull out your notepaper then. Let’s solve some integrals together.”

Molly swallowed hard. “I—I haven’t got that far yet.”