Illusions

“What are those?” Laurel said, wrinkling her nose. “Fingerless gloves went out of style before… mullets. You look like a dork.”

“Better a dork than a freak with glitter coming out of his hands,” Tamani hissed darkly. “As far as these kids know, they’re all the rage in Scotland.”

Laurel felt bad for not realizing; after all, it was being around her blossom that brought pollen to his hands. “Oh. What are you doing with Yuki? I thought you were supposed to be getting us together, not hooking up with her,” she whispered as Mrs. Harms called attendance.

“I am not ‘hooking up’ with her,” Tamani hissed.

“Could have fooled me,” Laurel muttered.

Tamani shrugged. “I have a job to do here,” he whispered. “I do what it takes.”

“Including taking advantage of a clueless fae?”

“I’m not taking advantage of her,” Tamani whispered back, a little heat creeping into his tone. “I’m just being friendly. And if it turns out she’s completely innocent in all this, then she’ll have someone who can answer all the questions she has about herself.” After a long pause he added, “It worked pretty well with you.”

“Didn’t work that well,” Laurel said caustically. “I’m not exactly your girlfriend, am I?” She turned back to the front of her class before Tamani could answer and raised her hand. “I have a massive headache; can I run to my locker real quick?” Laurel asked the teacher. Laurel didn’t want to think about Tamani or David right now. It just made her feel worse about everything.

Stupid boys.

“Dendroid,” David said, looking up from his SAT prep book.

Laurel groaned. “Aren’t we done yet? I think we’ve reviewed, like, two hundred words already.” She wasn’t even exaggerating. It had been a good day though. Monday and Tuesday had both been a little awkward, but things had fallen back into their usual rhythm and now Laurel was actually getting something out of her studying again. They quizzed each other, rewarding correct answers with kisses, and for a break, finished up some homework for their individual classes in companionable silence. It felt like things were getting back to normal.

Laurel liked normal.

“Just this last one,” David insisted. “It’s fitting.”

“Dendroid,” Laurel said, scrunching up her face. “A machine that lives in the ground?” she said with a grin.

David rolled his eyes. “Funny. No, actually, it’s something you are.”

“Oh, annoyed. Tired. Burned out. Am I getting warm?”

“Okay,” David said, closing his book. “I’ll take the hint before you beat me to death with it. We can be done.” He paused. “I just want you to do well.”

“I really don’t think a ton of cramming the day before I take the test is going to help much. No, really,” Laurel insisted.

David shrugged. “Can’t hurt.”

“Easy for you to say,” Laurel said, rubbing her eyes. She walked over to the bed, trailing her fingers across David’s shoulders, then flopped down next to her own SAT prep workbook.

“You want me to quiz you on anything else? Maybe the math?”

Laurel grimaced. “I hate the math part.”

“Which is why you should work on it. Plus,” he added, “it was your best score last time even with no prep. I think you have a great chance of improving it. I mean, it didn’t help that you weren’t even in a math class last semester. Being in Trig should help a lot this time.”

Laurel sighed and turned her blossom to the sunny window. “Sometimes I don’t even see the point,” she said morosely. “It doesn’t matter how I do on the SATs. Why am I retaking them?”

It had made sense to take them initially. At David’s prompting she’d looked into the nursing program at Berkley, figured out what she needed to score. Even studied, a little. Sort of. But the test hadn’t been what she expected; if nothing else, it was more than four hours in a windowless room. She’d done abysmally on the essay and failed to even finish one of the verbal sections. And she’d just guessed on about a third of the math questions. Even before her below-average scores came back she knew she hadn’t done well. In some ways, that made her decision easy — especially since she’d mastered a new potion the same day she got her scores. It was practically a sign. She wasn’t going to college; she was going to study at the Academy of Avalon. It was clearly meant to be.

But she knew she could do better.

“Laurel,” David said, frustration coloring his tone, “you keep saying that and I still don’t understand why. Why can’t you go to college?”

“It’s not that I can’t,” Laurel said. “I’m just… not sure I even want to.”

David looked concerned, but he hid it quickly, before Laurel’s conscience could prick her too much. “Why not?” he asked.

“I’m getting really good at Mixing,” Laurel said. “Seriously. Tama — everyone’s impressed with my progress. My practice is really starting to pay off and I’m totally getting this intuition thing. It works. I make it work. It’s exciting, David!”

“But, are you sure? I mean, it’s not like you have to be in Avalon full-time to get better. You can practice here. Look at your room — you’ve totally out-geeked me,” David said with a laugh. “You can keep doing that and still go to college too.” He hesitated. “You could do your faerie studies instead of a job, since tuition won’t be a problem for you.”

“It won’t be for you either, Mr. Straight A’s.”

“Well, that’s why my mom finally let me quit my job.” He grinned. “Financially investing in my future in a whole different way now.”

“And the added advantage of getting to spend more time with your girlfriend is a bit of a plus,” Laurel replied, pulling his head down close and kissing him as much to change the subject as because she wanted to. His arms went to her waist, brushing her petals, but not lingering.

They lay on his bed with Laurel’s knee resting on David’s hip. Just lying together seemed to soften the frustrations of the past few weeks. She snuggled her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes, remembering why she enjoyed being with David so much. He was hers — always had been, if she was honest with herself — right from that first day. And he was always so calm, even in the face of outrageous things like flowers growing out of her back, trolls throwing them in rivers, faerie spies. Things that would surely have sent anyone else running for the hills. And probably to the news stations too. That alone made David one of the most loyal people she’d even known.

She ran her fingers absently over David’s ribs and lifted her face so her forehead rested against his cheek.

“Laurel?”

“Hmmm?” Laurel asked, not opening her eyes.

“Can I just say — and let me finish before you say anything — I think you should try really hard on your SATs this time and apply to a few colleges. You’ve studied a ton the last couple of months anyway. Why throw that away?”

He paused, but Laurel was silent.

“Thing is,” he continued, “applying, getting accepted even, doesn’t mean you have to go. But when you graduate and—” He hesitated and Laurel bit her lip, knowing this was hard for him to even say. “And you have to start making decisions, I don’t… want you to ever feel trapped. Options are good.”

The minutes slid quietly by as Laurel thought about that. David was right — she didn’t have to go just because she got accepted. And she knew all too well that feeling one way now didn’t mean she’d feel the same way later. Lots of things had changed in her life, as well as in her head, over the past several years. Often for the better. “Okay,” she said softly. She knew that when David said, “Options are good,” he was really saying, “Don’t make a choice that will separate us for sure.” It was his way of holding on for as