Spells (17 page)

“I’m glad,” Tamani said. He was close by her shoulder now. “I wasn’t asking to prove some kind of a point,” he said earnestly. “I really wanted to know. And I hoped you were. I—I worry about you. Needlessly, I’m sure, but I do nonetheless.”

Embarrassment flooded through her and she tried to relax her stiffened spine. “Sorry.”

“Well, you should be.” Tamani grinned.

Laurel shook her head with a laugh.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him lift his hand toward her, then he let it drop and attempted to subtly push his hands into his pockets.

“What?” Laurel asked.

“Nothing,” Tamani said, turning and starting to cross back over to the opposite side of the room.

“The ‘faerie dust’?” Laurel asked, remembering last year as well as earlier that summer in Avalon.

Tamani nodded.

“Let me see.” She’d been too late in Avalon, but now she had a perfect opportunity.

“You got mad at me last year.”

“Oh, please. Don’t make me responsible for all the stupid things I did last year.” She grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand into hers.

He didn’t resist.

His hand was lightly brushed with a fine, glittery powder. She held his arm at an angle so the pollen caught the sun and glimmered. “It’s so pretty.”

Only then did Tamani’s hand relax. A playful grin crossed his face and he lifted a hand and rubbed a finger across her cheek, leaving a light, silvery streak.

“Hey!”

His swift hands shot out and he drew a line across her other cheek. “Now you match.”

His hand reached out once more—aiming for her nose—but she was ready this time. Her fingers closed around his wrist, blocking him. Tamani looked down at his hand, a good three inches away from her face. “I’m impressed.”

He brought his other hand up so quickly, Laurel didn’t even see it before it touched her nose. She swatted at his hand as he laughed and continued trying to paint stripes and she tried, usually unsuccessfully, to block him. He finally managed to grab both of her hands and held them down to her sides, pulling her against his chest. Her smile melted away as she looked up at him, their faces only a few inches apart.

“I win,” he whispered.

Their eyes locked and Tamani slowly moved forward. But before his face could reach hers, Laurel dropped her head, breaking eye contact. “Sorry,” she murmured.

Tamani just nodded and let her go. “Were you going to try to get the upstairs today too?” he asked.

Laurel looked around at the half-clean downstairs. “Maybe?”

“I’ll stay and help, if you want,” he offered.

“I would like you to stay,” Laurel said, her words answering more than just the simple question. “But only if you want to.”

“I do,” he said, his gaze unwavering. “Besides,” he added with a grin, “you didn’t bring a ladder. How will you get all the way to the ceiling without my help? You’re practically a sapling.”

They worked for the next three hours, until they were both tired and dusty, but the house was mostly clean. At the very least, it would be an easier job the next time Laurel attempted it.

Tamani insisted on carrying the bucket when he walked her back out to her car. “I’d ask you to stay, but I really would be more comfortable if you were home by sunset,” he said. “Especially after last night. It’s just better that way.”

Laurel nodded.

“And be careful,” he said sternly. “We watch out for you as much as we can, but we’re not miracle workers.”

“I will be careful,” Laurel promised. “I
have
been careful.” She stood for a few moments, and this time it was Tam who stepped forward first, his arms twining around her, holding her tight, his face against her neck.

“Come back soon,” he murmured. “I miss you.”

“I know,” Laurel admitted. “I’ll try.”

She slid in behind the wheel and adjusted the mirror so she could see Tamani standing with his hands in his pockets, watching her. A small movement caught her eye and she studied a thick tree at the end of her yard. It took a moment to make out the tall, slim faerie standing half behind it. Shar. He said nothing to make his presence known—he just glared.

Laurel shivered. He wasn’t glaring at Tamani. He was glaring at
her
.

LAUREL PULLED OPEN THE HEAVY DOUBLE DOORS IN
the front of the school on Monday morning, anxious to see David. Between her trip to the land and a last-minute visit David had to make to his grandparents, they hadn’t seen each other all weekend.

Her smile faded when she got to her locker and found it deserted. She and David drove in together about half the time, but when they didn’t, they always met here before class. And after class.

And between classes.

But today, he was nowhere to be seen. She would have assumed he was just running late, but he hadn’t called to say so, as he had in the past. Laurel tried to reason away her concerns. It wasn’t exactly a regular occurrence for David to miss the first bell, but still, it did happen sometimes. She slowly retrieved her Spanish book, trying to look like she was busy instead of like a girl who had nothing better to do than hang out at her locker, waiting for her boyfriend.

She procrastinated until thirty seconds before the final bell, then sprinted to make it into Spanish on time.

She rushed out of class right as her teacher released them only to find the space in front of her locker empty again. Fear pounded through her and she hurried to the front office, wishing for the millionth time that she had a cell phone. Her parents could certainly have afforded one for her, but her mother steadfastly maintained that she didn’t need one until she left for college.

Parents
.

“Can I use the phone real quick?” Laurel asked the secretary. The secretary plunked a cordless down on the counter in front of her. Laurel dialed David’s cell number and her tension rose as it rang, once, twice. On the fourth ring his voice mail picked up. It beeped for her to leave a message, but what was she supposed to say?
I’m worried. Please come to school
?

She hung up without saying anything. She considered ditching and driving around town looking for him, but besides the futility of that, she had chemistry next. If he did just show up super late, at least if she was in class she’d know immediately.

Chemistry class had never lasted so long. While her teacher rattled on about polyatomic ions, Laurel’s mind was flipping through progressively worse and worse scenarios. David killed by trolls. David taken and tortured by trolls. David taken by trolls and used as a trap for her so
she
could be tortured. By the end of the class they all seemed not only believable but probable.

Laurel ran over to the social studies hallway, where Chelsea was just stepping out of history. “Have you seen David?” Laurel asked.

Chelsea shook her head. “I always assume he’s with you.”

“I can’t find him,” Laurel said, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

“Maybe he’s sick,” Chelsea suggested—Laurel had to admit—rationally.

“Yeah, but he’s not answering his cell. He always answers his cell.”

“He might be sleeping.”

“Maybe,” Laurel said. She returned to her locker and pulled out her American literature textbook. She looked at the cover and suddenly the thought of reading anything someone wrote a hundred years ago seemed like the most pointless thing in the world. She put it back and grabbed her purse instead. She just had to see if he was at home. It wouldn’t take that long—she probably wouldn’t even be counted absent if she hurried back. She was just reaching out to swing her locker door shut when Chelsea tapped her shoulder, startling her.

“There he is,” she said, pointing down the hall. David was walking toward her, a smile on his face and sunglasses hiding his eyes. Laurel was running before she could stop herself. She slammed into David and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing as hard as she could.

“Well, hello,” David said, looking down at her questioningly.

After an hour spent visualizing his demise, David’s casual tone made hot anger bubble up in her chest. She grabbed the front of his shirt in both fists and shook him a little. “You scared me to death, David Adam Lawson! Where the hell have you been?”

David glanced down the hall toward the front doors. “Let’s get out of here,” he said, not answering her question.

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s go somewhere, have some fun.”

She glanced around before saying quietly, “Ditch?”

“Oh, come on. You have literature this hour. You’re getting, what? An A plus, plus? Let’s go!”

She looked up at him, one eyebrow raised skeptically. “You want to take off and ditch class to go ‘have some fun’? Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?”

David just smiled. “Come on,” he said earnestly. “Just this once.”

“Okay,” she said. She was so relieved to see him, it didn’t really matter where he wanted to go. She was game. “Let’s do it!”

“Great,” David said, grabbing her hand. His gait was as close to skipping as Laurel had ever seen. “Come on!”

She had to admit that his excitement was infectious. She found herself laughing along with him as they raced out to his car.

“Where are we going?” she asked as she clicked her seat belt.

“It’s a surprise,” David said, a mischievous glint in his eye. He pulled out a long strip of cloth. “Close your eyes,” he said softly.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Laurel said in disbelief.

“Come on, now,” David said. “You trust me, don’t you?”

Laurel looked up at him, his sunglasses reflecting her own face back at her. “What’s up with the shades?” Laurel asked. “I can’t see your eyes in those things.”

“That’s the point, isn’t it?”

“What, preventing your girlfriend from seeing your eyes?”

“Not you specifically.” He grinned. “Anyway, I think they’re pretty sweet.”

“I think it would be pretty sweet if I could see your eyes, David.”

Without hesitation, he slipped off the sunglasses and looked at her, his soft blue eyes open and earnest. All of Laurel’s worries dissipated and she turned to let him blindfold her. “I trust you,” she said.

Once the blindfold was in place, Laurel sat back in the passenger seat and tried to pay attention to each turn David was making, determined to keep track of where she was. But after about five minutes it became obvious that he was going in circles, so she gave up. Soon the car bumped against a curb and came to a stop. After a few seconds her door opened and David gently helped her out, one hand at her waist and the other on her shoulder to stabilize her.

“David,” Laurel said tentatively, “I hate to be a spoilsport, but I hope we’re someplace safe. After the other night…well…you know.”

“Don’t worry,” David said, his mouth close to her ear. “I’ve brought you to the safest place in the world.” David removed the blindfold, and for a moment the sunlight was blinding as it filtered down through the leaves, giving everything an ethereal glow. They were standing in a small clearing ringed by the very last of the autumn flowers—orange gloriosa daisies, touches of purple coneflowers, and some blue Russian sage. In the middle, on a patch of thick, green grass, was a blanket with a couple of couch pillows and several bowls of sliced fruit. Strawberries, nectarines, apples, and a bottle of sparkling cider with beads of condensation that glinted in the gentle sunlight. Laurel smiled and turned around to confirm her suspicion—just past the edge of the trees, she could see her own backyard. Safest place in the world, indeed.

“David! This is beautiful!” Laurel said breathlessly, stretching up on her toes to kiss him, glad they were just out of sight of the house, in case either of her parents came home for lunch—which they usually didn’t. “When did you do this?”

“There was a reason you couldn’t find me this morning,” he said sheepishly.

“David Lawson!” Laurel gasped with mock sternness. “What is the world coming to when Del Norte’s star student is skipping his classes?”

He shrugged, then grinned. “Some things are more important than my GPA.”

After a brief hesitation, Laurel asked, “Did I…forget some special occasion?”

David shook his head. “Nope. I just thought that we’ve both been under so much stress lately that we haven’t really had any good together-time.”

Laurel reached her arms around David’s neck and kissed him. “I think this is definitely going to make up for it.”

“That’s the idea,” he replied. “Have a seat.” She sat cross-legged on the blanket and he dropped to the ground behind her. “One more thing,” he said, his hands slipping around her waist, just under her shirt. Laurel smiled as he worked at the knot in her sash, but he eventually managed it and pushed her shirt back so her blossom could splay out behind her. “Much better,” David said. He poured them each a glass of cider and they lay propped up on the pillows, with Laurel snuggled against David’s chest.

“This is awesome,” Laurel said lazily. David held up a slice of nectarine; she laughed as he avoided her hands and held the fruit toward her face. She tilted her head back and opened her mouth. She leaned forward at the last second, her teeth biting lightly at his fingers. Then she let his hand go and pressed her mouth against his lips instead. His fingers trailed over the bare skin, now showing between the top of her jeans and the hem of her shirt, caressing her softly, gently, tentatively. Even after a year he always touched her that way, as if it was a privilege he wasn’t entirely convinced he had earned.

He tasted like apples and nectarines, and the smell from the grass had seeped into his clothes. Laurel often noticed the biological differences between the two of them, but today they seemed the same. With the smell and taste of nature all around him, David could almost have been a faerie.

“How is your blossom?” David asked, stroking it very gently.

“It’s okay now,” Laurel said. “The first couple of days it still ached, but I think it’s going to be fine.” She craned her neck, trying to see the damaged side. “I hate the way it’s healing, though. The ends are dry and brown. It’s really not very pretty.”

“But it was some major damage,” David said. He kissed her forehead. “It will grow back next year and will be as beautiful as ever.”

“Wow, next year,” Laurel said. “I can hardly even imagine next year. Sometimes it feels like this year will never end.”

“And last year—doesn’t it seem like ages ago? So much has happened.” David laughed. “Would you have imagined a year ago that we’d be lying here today?”

Laurel just smiled and shook her head. “I thought I was on death’s door last year.”

“What do you think we’ll be doing next year?”

“This same thing, I hope,” Laurel said, snuggling against him.

“Well, other than that.” He lay back, lacing his fingers together to support his head. Laurel rolled onto her side, her stomach pressed against his ribs. “I mean, senior year next year. We’ll be picking colleges and stuff.”

Laurel’s heart sank and she looked away from him. Ever since Chelsea had brought up the SAT tests the thought of her educational future had been a little hard to think about. “I don’t think college is in my future.”

“What? Why not?”

“I imagine they’ll want me at the Academy full-time,” she said, a little despondently.

David propped his head up on his elbow so he could look at her. “I always figured you would study at the Academy off and on—maybe full-time eventually—but that doesn’t mean you can’t go to college.”

“What would be the point?” Laurel shrugged. “It’s not like I’m going to have a career someday. I’m a faerie.”

“So?”

“They’ll want me to do…faerie stuff.” She gestured vaguely with her hands.

David pursed his lips. “What does it matter what
they
want? What do
you
want?”

“I…don’t really know, I guess. What else would I do?”

“You’re way more than just a faerie, Laurel. You have this opportunity to do something most faeries never get to do. To live like a human. To make that choice.”

“But they’ll never see any of that as important. The only thing that matters to anyone in Avalon is that I learn how to be a Fall faerie—and that I inherit the land.”

“It doesn’t matter what
they
think is important. You’re the one who decides what’s important. Same with anything in life. The value you give it is the only value it has.” He paused. “Don’t let them convince you that humans aren’t important,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “If you think we’re important, then we are.”

“But what would I do?”

“What did you want to do before you found out you were a faerie?”

Laurel shrugged. “I hadn’t decided on just one thing. I thought about being an English teacher or a college professor.” She grinned. “For a while I thought about being a nurse. I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone that.”

“How come?”

She rolled her eyes. “My mom would just die if I ended up working in a hospital.” She looked up at David. “I’ve always kind of wanted to be in a position where I could help people, you know?”

“What about being a doctor?”

She shook her head. “That’s the thing—I don’t think I’m really that interested in medicine…or teaching, either. But teachers and nurses help people, so I thought maybe that’s what I’d do. But I really don’t know.”

“Well, whatever you decide to do, you should do it. But it should be what
you
want.”

“Sometimes…sometimes I don’t think I have control over my life anymore. I mean, do I have the option of not attending the Academy? It’s the role I’ve always been intended for.”

“What are they going to do? Drag you kicking and screaming back to Avalon? I kinda doubt it.”

Laurel nodded slowly. He was right. Maybe she could stay.

But will I
want
to stay?

For now, all she wanted was to enjoy David. He looked like he was about to say something else, but she cut him off with a kiss, her arms wrapping around his neck. “Thank you for this,” she murmured against his mouth. “It’s just what I needed. You always seem to know exactly what I need.”

“My pleasure,” David said, smiling softly. The air around them was full of the scent of pine and fruit, damp earth and the soft aroma of Laurel’s blossom. Everything was perfect as he kissed her again, his lips always so soft, so gentle. Now his hands were in her hair as Laurel raised one knee up to rest against his thigh, their bodies snug together like well-fitting puzzle pieces. She never wanted this to end.