Laurel startled when someone rapped quietly on her door.
“Can I come in?”
Tamani.
Laurel shoved her scores under her backpack and went to her bedroom door, hesitating a moment before letting him in.
“Sorry for not waiting at the front door,” he said apologetically. “But with you being grounded I figure it’s better if no one sees you let me in.”
“You’ve finally learned about my spying neighbors,” Laurel said, forcing a laugh.
Tamani studied his shoes for a moment. Then he looked up, smiled, and stepped forward, arms open.
Every resolve, every promise she had made to herself about taking time to clear her head, crumbled as she folded herself into his arms. She clung to him and even when he pulled back, ever so gently, she held him harder. One more second and she would let him go.
One more.
Or two more.
Finally she made her arms drop and forced herself not to look up at him. If she did, there would be nothing to stop her from kissing him, and once that happened, it would be over. She would want nothing but him for the rest of the afternoon.
“So,” Laurel said as she sat down on her desk chair — where he definitely couldn’t sit beside her—“how was your chat with Roster?”
“Ridiculous. Pointless.” Tamani rolled his eyes. He sat on her bed and lounged on one elbow. She had to grip the arms of her chair to remain seated — every ounce of her wanted to join him. To snuggle against his chest with her head tucked under his chin, feeling the vibrations in his throat when he talked and—
Focus!
“What’s your punishment?” Laurel asked, not wanting to admit she’d been eavesdropping on the school gossip and had a pretty good idea already.
“Three days in-school suspension. David”—he said David’s name like it was a bad word—“is going to tutor me, to save my grades.”
“Are you serious?” Laurel asked, louder than she had intended. None of her sources had told her they would be working together. This was bad.
Tamani scoffed.
“Well.” Laurel was silent for a few seconds. “He actually is a really great tutor.” She knew it put Tamani on edge when she praised David, but how could she not? After years of homeschooling, it was David who’d taught her how to cope with the public school system.
“I don’t doubt it. But the whole concept of grades is pretty insulting. I’ve never seen a more arbitrary, uninformative metric. The way humans measure their differences is—”
“Worse than the way you do it in Avalon?”
Tamani pursed his lips. “Well, anyway, it’s just a good thing I’m not really a student. I’d have to do something drastic. I don’t know what I’m going to do with David for three days.”
“Be nice to him,” Laurel said.
“We’re going to be supervised, Laurel.”
“I mean it. No bragging, no taunting, nothing. Be nice.”
“No taunting, I promise.”
Laurel nodded approvingly, but she wasn’t sure what else to say. Finally she decided to just change the subject. “So Shar’s here now?”
Tamani shook his head. “Just for a few days. He has duties back at the land.”
“How does he get here? Does he have a car too?” The idea of the faeries all driving around in cars made Laurel laugh.
But Tamani looked a little chagrined. “Tamani de Rhoslyn, sentry, Fear-gleidhidh, and chauffeur, at your service.”
“When? I thought you watched me, like, all the time.”
“Less when I know you’re at home. And in for the night. And don’t forget,” he added with a grin, “I have a cell phone — Aaron can call me if anything goes wrong.” He leaned forward, his partially unbuttoned shirt affording her a splendid view. “And then I come rushing back to save you.”
Laurel quelled the giddy warmth that was spreading through her limbs. “That’s good,” she said. Then, realizing that maybe — maybe — her chest wouldn’t feel quite so tight if her ribs weren’t bound with a sash, she untied the knot and let her limp petals go free. What was left of them. They’d been falling out all day. By tomorrow morning she could stop hiding entirely. That was going to be a relief.
She was momentarily frozen in place by the realization that this might be the last time she would ever have to hide it. If she were in Avalon, it wouldn’t be necessary. College, on the other hand, meant at least four more years of binding down her blossom. Her SAT scores were still hidden underneath her backpack. They were high enough to get into a good college. They even gave her a reasonable shot at Berkeley. Last spring Laurel’s below-average scores had pretty much made up her mind for her — especially since they’d been followed by a stellar summer at the Academy. But now? There was a whole new road she could take, if she wanted.
Options were beginning to feel more like a burden than a blessing.
Chapter Twenty-Six
THREE WHOLE DAYS, LOCKED IN A ROOM WITH MR. Robison and David.
Doing homework.
Pretending to do homework.
And trading glares.
The first day, David had done more glaring than Tamani. But then, considering Tamani was the winner, it was only fitting.
Well, kind of the winner.
For one perfect day Tamani had actually wondered if he could perish of happiness. Being with Laurel, really with her, holding her in his arms as she smiled up at him — it was better than he had ever dreamed. Everything else in his life paled in comparison. Becoming the youngest commanding sentry in three generations? A minor success. Training as the leading expert on applied human interaction? Nothing more than a means to an end. But being with Laurel? This was his crowning achievement, and he had surprised himself with how easily he slipped into the role. How perfectly she fit in his arms. The complete joy he felt when she smiled at him. Nothing else mattered.
He would get that back. He’d thought himself determined before, but he’d only been chasing a dream. Now he knew what he was missing and he could do anything if it meant one more day like the one they’d shared at the cabin.
When Tamani realized he was smiling, he cleared his throat and forced himself to look dour again and pretend to focus on David’s explanation of the Pythagorean theorem. What a waste of time.
“Boys, if you’ll excuse me, you seem to be doing fine on that assignment. I need to step out for a moment.”
Tamani suppressed a chuckle. Their “supervision” was a joke. Mr. Robison had left the room fourteen times today — twice as many as yesterday. And whenever he did, David would just shut down. He wouldn’t respond to anything Tamani said. He’d just sit and stare at the whiteboards hung at the front of the room. When Mr. Robison returned, David would launch back into whatever halfhearted tutorial they’d been on before. It was uncanny, really — he’d just start up exactly where he’d left off. Mr. Robison didn’t seem to notice.
What got Tamani was the way David seemed to be brooding almost as much over this punishment as over losing Laurel. As far as Tamani was concerned, punishments were just part of life. You suffered them and went on your way — there was no reason to stop and regret.
Tamani sure didn’t.
He wondered if humans couldn’t escape their anxieties because they were always cooped up. It must be hard to cope when a person couldn’t breathe fresh air and work things out constructively, with some honest physical labor. Before Tamani was ten years old, he had spent several years out in the field with his father, maintaining dams with his sister’s companion, or running errands for his mother at the Academy. Humans, on the other hand, were lined up and put in pens like cattle. Perhaps it worked for them — maybe animals liked being boxed up. But Tamani had his doubts.