In the meantime, she had other worries. Fiona, unable to contain herself, had admitted to just one girl, Sarah, the one she thought she could trust with a secret, that she was going to the dance with Davy.

Sarah said, “Oh, fun. We figured you were an item ’cause you never eat lunch with us anymore. Are you buying a dress special? Most girls go into Shoreline with their moms. There’s nowhere to get a dress in St. Mary’s By the Sea.”

Fiona hadn’t given this part any thought at all.

“I don’t know,” she said.

“I mean, you don’t have to buy a dress special,” said Sarah. “You can wear an old one. It’s just…” She paused delicately. There were few children at the school whose families had much money and what people could afford was always treated delicately. “People usually do,” she finished reluctantly. “But it’s not super dressy. Not like a prom. Not long dresses. But you know, nicer-than-ordinary dresses, more like party dresses.”

Fiona nodded. She didn’t know what to do about this. Did she dare to buy a dress? Even if she could get someone to take her into Shoreline she knew couldn’t allow herself to spend the money. She couldn’t tell Natasha and Charlie and Marlin they couldn’t afford the things they wanted and then buy herself a dress.

“Well,” she said with a sudden brainstorm. “Actually, I was thinking of more of an Audrey Hepburn retro-type look, you know, black pixie pants, flat shoes, fancy little top of some kind. Maybe a vest of some kind. Something maybe a little more chic than a dress.”

“Oh,” said Sarah, nodding but looking confused. “Right.”

Now she hoped Sarah would tell people she was going to the dance. That she was going and wearing pants. She wanted people to know ahead of time. To think it was a carefully thought-out look and not that she simply couldn’t afford to buy a dress. She wanted to go into the dance proudly, not feeling ashamed and not making Davy feel he had chosen to go with someone who couldn’t even figure out how to dress properly for her first dance.

Every day she would ask Sarah, “Did you tell anyone I was going to the dance?” and Sarah would always say, “Oh, no. You asked me not to. Don’t worry.” So one day Fiona had to bring it up herself. Several girls were standing by the school’s front door in the morning waiting to go in and one of the girls said, “Clayton finally asked me to the dance and my mother said we can go to Shoreline this weekend to dress-shop. Before all the good ones are gone.”

“Well, I’m going to the dance too,” said Fiona carefully. “Only I’m wearing pants. When my family lived in London, that was considered the thing to wear to dances. You know. Because why should only the boys be comfortable?”

There was a pause as the girls took in this astounding information and then one said, “But I like dresses. I always used to think about the kind of dress I would get for the Summer Fling when I was at Greenwillow.”