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the boom of her father’s voice directing the arrivers to the back of the house. She knew she should be heading outside, but she was reluctant to leave the privacy of the semi-dark house. It was a comfort to be secluded like she was, all alone, in the shadowy and peaceful hall, while listening to the sounds of the crowd outside. She was at peace in the house and safe. She didn’t pause to ask herself just why she felt safe in the house; it wasn’t as if she abhorred people or parties. It would be good to escape later, when the party got to be too much.
    The rest of the party thrived in the sort of atmosphere the party induced. Every one of them would be out enjoying themselves until the crack of dawn, and would be sorry to see the party’s end. It was a cheerful, uncomplicated sort of extroversion that the family shared, except for Carrie. While she could enjoyed the party atmosphere for a while, she was most happy by herself, either working on an individual project or merely reading a book. She enjoyed her own quiet company. It was just another characteristic of her personality that her family found incomprehensible.
    Carrie headed on down the hallway hearing as she went the sounds of the small band that her mother had secured for entertainment. Time to face the music, she thought, and chuckled at the bad pun. She bumped into Ralf as she rounded the corner. “Mmnif,” she grunted into his shirt.
    “Hey! Here you are,” he exclaimed, grabbing on to her shoulders to keep her from falling. “Mom sent me looking for you—you’re late, just about everybody’s here, and people are asking about you. Come on, girl!”
    “Who’s been asking about me?” she wanted to know, trotting a little to keep up with her brother’s long strides.
    “Gail wanted to know when you would be coming out of hibernation—her word, not mine,” he replied. Gail Bordner had graduated in Carrie’s class in high school, and at one time the two girls had been best friends, sharing all their dreams and heartaches the way only adolescents can. They still kept in touch with each other through letters and phone calls and were continually promising visits that somehow never came to pass.
    Carrie’s face brightened eagerly. It would be good to see Gail again. She hadn’t seen her friend since Gail had begun to teach kindergarten, several months ago. Gail had written letters telling her about her children and relating funny anecdotes about the little imps.
    “Anyone else?” she asked.
    Ralf grinned. “Erica expressed an eagerness to see you again, but I didn’t think you’d be so thrilled by that message.”
    Thrilled was not quite the word. Carrie could imagine the polite and insincere tone that Erica would have used as she spoke. The girl had always rubbed her the wrong way, and the way to describe how they felt about each other was the phrase “mutual antagonism”. And now, she thought, Erica shows up at the party. “Yuck!” she groaned.
    “Ditto,” Ralf grunted, and Carrie started. She hadn’t realised she had said it aloud. “But whenever Gabe Jackson shows up in public, Erica’s there, sticking to him like a leech.”
    She mulled over this unexpected tidbit of information as they reached the verandah where several of the guests were milling, greeting and talking to one another in the manner of people who quite expect to have a good time.
    She whispered, “So the great Gabriel is here tonight?”
    “Ma invited him specifically. He’s too important to overlook and too new to realise he should come, written invitation or no,” he replied. He pointed to her left. “There’s Gail.”
    Carrie cried out the other girl’s name with delight and the two rushed together to hug enthusiastically. “Oh, my dear, how are you?” she asked, feeling a little guilty for not writing as she should have.
    “A fat lot you care!” Gail laughed at the expression on Carrie’s face. She was a tall girl with dark hair that flowed down her