Illusions

the way.” She paused and laid her hand on Laurel’s. “All I’m saying is that you shouldn’t stay with him for the wrong reasons, even if they are noble ones. No one owes it to someone else to be their girlfriend. It’s a choice you remake every day.”

Laurel nodded slowly, then paused. “I love him, Mom.”

“I know you do. But there are a lot of different kinds of love.”

Chapter Twelve

SPURRED BY HER MOM’S ENCOURAGEMENT, LAUREL decided there was no reason she couldn’t have Tamani over. As a friend. So Friday night she called him on his iPhone for the first time and asked if he wanted to come over Saturday to help her with research. And by research, she meant research. Her mom wasn’t going to be home to actually meet Tamani — Saturdays were her busiest day at the store — but her dad was there. It was a start.

The doorbell rang and Laurel’s dad hollered that he would get it. There was no way she could beat him to the door. Delay tactics were her next best bet. She glanced over her shoulder again, staring at her blossom in the mirror. It was as beautiful — and whole — as ever. After a troll ripped out a handful of her petals last year, she’d been concerned it wouldn’t grow back the same. Fortunately, the new blossom didn’t look like it had been affected by the trauma at all. It was still a rich, dark blue at its center, fading to almost white at its tips. The petals fanned out in a four-pointed star that — even now that she knew what it was — looked like wings. Sometimes, when it wasn’t terrifying or incon-veniencing her, Laurel loved her blossom.

And introducing Tamani to her father while she was blooming definitely qualified as inconvenient.

Trying to stifle her nerves, Laurel adjusted her green halter-top and smoothed her capris before walking over to the door and opening it a crack. She listened for a few seconds until she heard Tamani’s soft brogue travel up the stairs. It would be worse than a disaster to head down with her blossom out, only to find that the doorbell had simply been a chatty neighbor.

Not for the first time that morning she considered calling David. He’d emailed her last night and apologized again but she hadn’t responded yet. Truth was, she didn’t know what to say. About an hour earlier she’d actually picked up the phone and started to dial. But the middle of an experiment with Tamani was not the time to work through their issues and she knew she wouldn’t be able to concentrate if David came over now and there was still tension. I’ll call him as soon as Tamani leaves, she promised herself.

She could hear Tamani and her dad talking as she slowly descended the stairs. It was weird to hear them together, and made her feel strangely jealous. For two years now Tamani had been her secret — her special person. Except for a few times with David, she hadn’t had to share him at all. Sometimes she wished she could go back to the way things used to be. When he had deep-green eyes and longish hair and didn’t wear shoes or jeans. When he was just hers.

She almost didn’t notice when the buzz of conversation stopped. All eyes were on her. “Hey,” she said with a lame wave.

“Hey is right!” her dad said, his voice loud with excitement. “Look at you! I didn’t know you were blossoming.”

Laurel shrugged. “It’s not a big deal,” she said as nonchalantly as she could manage with Tamani standing right there, staring at her blossom, his expression guarded.

Abruptly, he shoved his hands into his pockets.

Oh, yeah.

“So,” Laurel said, forcing a smile as her dad continued to gawk at her petals and Tamani looked studiously away. “Dad, Tamani. Tamani, Dad.”

“Yeah, Tamani was just telling me a little about his life as a sentry. I think it’s fascinating.”

“You think everything about the fae is fascinating,” Laurel said, rolling her eyes.

“And why shouldn’t I?” He crossed his arms over her chest and looked at her proudly.

Laurel squirmed at the attention. “Well, we have work to do,” Laurel said, inclining her head toward the stairs.

“Homework?” Laurel’s dad asked, clearly disbelieving.

“Faerie stuff,” Laurel said, shaking her head. “Tamani has generously agreed to donate his body to my research.” The words were out of Laurel’s mouth before she realized how bad they sounded. “I mean he’s helping me,” she corrected herself, feeling like an idiot.

“Awesome! Can I watch?” her dad asked, sounding more like a little boy than a grown man.

“Sure, because my dad watching over my shoulder won’t be awkward at all,” Laurel said cheerfully.

“Fine,” he said, moving over to give her a hug. With his mouth close to her ear he whispered, “You look gorgeous. Keep your door open.”

“Dad!” Laurel hissed, but he only raised an eyebrow at her. She chanced a glance at Tamani, but he just looked bemused. “Fine,” she said, then pulled away and began walking toward the steps. “It’s this way,” she said to Tamani.

Tamani paused for a second, then walked over to Laurel’s dad and stuck out his hand, which Laurel noted was temporarily free of pollen, probably courtesy of Tamani’s pocket-lining. “Great to meet you, Mr. Sewell,” he said.

“Absolutely, Tam.” Laurel cringed. It sounded twice as bizarre coming out of her dad’s mouth. “We’ll have to talk more one of these days.”

“Sure,” Tamani said, reaching his other hand up to clasp her dad’s shoulder. “But for now, wow, it’s Saturday — your store must be really busy.”

“Oh, it usually gets busy at about twelve,” he said, pointing to the clock that read just after eleven.

“Sure, but school started a few weeks ago and people always want books for school, right? I bet they’re really busy down there and could use your help. You should go to the store. Help out. We’ll be fine here.”

It took Laurel about three seconds to realize what was happening.

“You know, you’re right,” her dad said, his voice sounding a little far away. “I should go help them.”

“Well, it was good to see you for a little while at least. I’m sure I’ll see you again.”

“Yep, that would be great!” Laurel’s dad said, looking a little more like himself. “Well, you two get some good work done. I think I’m going to go down and help Maddie out at the store. It’s a Saturday; I bet it’s busy.” He grabbed his car keys and was out the door.

“Okay,” Laurel said, turning to Tamani, “not cool.”

“What?” Tamani asked, looking genuinely confused. “I got him out of the way.”

“Him? That him is my dad!”

“Enticement doesn’t hurt him,” Tamani protested. “Besides, I’ve been living on my own for years — I don’t do well with hovering parents.”

“My house, my rules,” Laurel said sternly. “Don’t do it again.”

“All right, fine,” Tamani said, raising his hands in front of him. He paused and looked up to where she was standing, a few steps above him. “He was right though, you do look gorgeous.”

Her anger evaporated and she found herself staring at the floor, trying to think of something to say.

“Come on,” Tamani said, sweeping past her, a picture of unaffected nonchalance. “Let’s get started.”

Over the past few years, Laurel’s room had gone from a fairly typical teenager’s room to a pink, fluffy chemistry lab. Her gauzy curtains and girlish bedspread were the same, and the prisms strung along her window still sparkled in the sun and cast rainbows across her room. But instead of bouncing off CDs, makeup, books, and clothes, the light caught vials, mortars, and reagents — bags of leaves, bottles of oils, and baskets of drying flowers.

At least her room always smelled good.

Laurel sat at her desk chair and gestured to a pink vanity stool for Tamani, trying not to think about how often David had sat in that same chair to watch her work.

“So,” Tamani said, talking more to her blossom than her face. “What have you got so far?”

“Uh,” Laurel said, trying to ignore the tightening in her chest, “not a whole lot, actually. I made the phosphorescent right, so that’s good. I tried to make some Cyoan powder too, but it’s just way beyond me.”

“Why Cyoan? That won’t tell you anything about a faerie.”

“But we want something similar. And sometimes, when a Mixing is going really well and I make a mistake, I get this feeling like, well, I don’t even know how to describe it. It’s like when I’m playing my guitar, and I play a