Get a grip, Ruby, I ordered myself. You’re becoming as paranoid as Alice.

Nora grinned, breaking the détente. “Anyway, Nancy’s going to be thrilled. This kind of gossip is exactly the buzz we need to build our audience.”

“Audience?” Oscar shook his head.

“For your debut!”

“Who is Nancy?” I cut in.

“My sister.” As if remembering something she’d forgotten to do, Nora snatched her phone back from Dad, and started typing. “She’s got a PR firm in DC—high-level political spin stuff, but Oscar, I believe you know her daughter, Tessa?”

I glanced at him. His face was blank.

Then he jolted. “Cello! Yeah, she’s a freshman, she’s not bad.”

“Well, Nancy was at that YouTube concert and texted me from the audience. You’ve got to snap this kid up. Real deal. And when the video was posted, her firm boosted it.”

“Her firm what?” Oscar backed up a step, holding his head.

“She’s extremely influential,” Nora said proudly. “She wants to help you. And the school. Lucky us!”

“Farnwell?” Oscar leaned against a desk chair, looking as lost as I’d ever seen him.

“Amberley.” Nora swatted him, like he’d made a joke. “She’s coming Thursday through Saturday, that’s all she can manage, but she’s got a big surprise lined up for you. You’re going to be interviewed . . . for the ATV News . . . by Shawna Wells herself.”

Oscar glanced at me as if for help. “I’m not sure . . . we don’t watch a lot of news.”

“Top news anchor in the country.” Nora’s smile ticked down a few notches. “She’s black!”

I cringed so hard, my eyes closed. Why are we like this.

“Oh!” Oscar lifted his eyebrows, the closest approximation of excitement he could muster.

“That’s all the news I’ve got for today . . .” Nora chuckled to herself, so apparently that was a Shawna Wells impression.

Dad stood. “All right, thanks a bunch, Nora. If that’s it, I think Oscar and I had better get to work.”

“Perfect. Lunch again soon, Ruby?”

Again? We’d never had lunch the first time.

I smiled noncommittally and waved good-bye, relieved to hear her sneakers squeaking down the wooden steps, through the living room and away. Then I turned to see Dad staring at me, finally taking in my PJs, my mussed ponytail. His eyes met mine, a shuttered look obscuring whatever his real reaction was.

“Welcome back, Dad.” I crossed the room to give his cheek a kiss, then started away.

“Sir? I . . .” Oscar’s voice was loud. I froze in the doorway. “I’d actually like to ask for your blessing. For—”

Dad coughed, glancing in my general direction. “You proposing marriage? Seems a little rushed.”

I pinched the doorframe, stung by the acid in his voice.

“No.” Oscar tried to smile. “I’d just like to date your daughter.”