Wings

his voice bounced off the trees, sounding more like a bird than a human. “I’m Tamani,” he said, still holding a hand out to help her up. “You can call me Tam, if you like.”

Suddenly aware that she was still lying on the damp ground where she had fallen, Laurel felt embarrassment flood over her. She ignored his hand and pushed herself to her feet, forgetting to hold onto her petals. With a sharp gasp she yanked her shirt down, wincing as the bloom crushed against her skin.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll keep my distance from your blossom.” He grinned and she felt like she was missing some in-joke. “I know whose petals I’m allowed to get into and whose I’m not.” He inhaled deeply. “Mmmm. And fabulous as you smell, your petals are off-limits to me.” He raised an eyebrow. “At least for now.”

He lifted a hand to her face and Laurel couldn’t move. He brushed some leaves out of her hair and glanced quickly up and down her frame. “You seem to be intact. No broken petals or stems.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, trying to conceal the petals peeking out from the bottom of her shirt.

“It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?”

She glared at him. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here.”

“You don’t live here,” she said, confused. “This is my land.”

“Really?”

Now she was flustered all over again. “Well, it’s my parents’ land.” She held tight to the tail of her shirt. “And you’re…you’re not welcome here.” How had his eyes gotten so intensely, impossibly green? Contacts, she told herself firmly.

“Aren’t I?”

Her eyes widened as he took a step closer. His face was so confident, his smile so contagious, she couldn’t step away. She was sure she’d never met anyone like him before in her life, but a sense of familiarity overwhelmed her.

“Who are you?” Laurel repeated.

“I told you; I’m Tamani.”

She shook her head. “Who are you really?”

Tamani pressed a finger to her lips. “Shh, all in good time. Come with me.” He took her hand and she didn’t pull away as he led her deeper into the forest. Her other hand gradually forgot what it was doing and she let go of her shirt. The petals slowly rose until they were spread out behind her in all their beautiful glory. Tamani looked back. “There, that feels better, doesn’t it?”

Laurel could only nod. Her mind felt fuzzy, and although somewhere in the back of her consciousness she suspected she should be bothered by all of this, it somehow didn’t seem important. The only thing that mattered was following this guy with the alluring smile.

He brought her to a small clearing where the leaves above them parted, allowing a circle of sunlight to filter down through the branches onto a patch of grass dotted with spots of spongy green moss. Tamani sprawled in the grass and gestured for her to sit in the spot across from him.

Enraptured, Laurel just stared. His green-and-black hair hung in long strands that fell across his forehead, just shy of his eyes. He was dressed in a loose white shirt that looked homemade and similarly styled brown baggy pants that tied just below the knees. They were decidedly old-fashioned, but he made them seem as trendy as the rest of him. His feet were bare, but even the sharp pine needles and broken sticks along the path hadn’t seemed to bother him. He was maybe six inches taller than her and moved with a catlike grace she’d never seen in another boy.

Laurel folded down into a cross-legged perch and looked over at him expectantly. The strange desire to follow him was slowly starting to fade, and confusion was working its way in.

“You gave us quite a scare, running off like that.” His voice had a soft lilt — not quite British, not quite Irish.

“Like what?” Laurel asked, trying to clear her head.

“Here one day, gone the next. Where have you been? I was starting to panic.”

“Panic?” She was too bewildered to argue or demand more information.

“Have you told anyone about that?” he asked, pointing over her shoulder.

She shook her head. “No — oh, yes. I told my friend David.”

Tamani’s face snapped into an unreadable slate. “Just a friend?”

Laurel’s wits slowly began to trickle back in. “Yes…no…I don’t think that’s any of your business.” But she said it quietly.

Small lines showed at the corner of Tamani’s eyes, and for just an instant, Laurel thought she saw a flash of fear. Then he leaned back and his soft smile returned; she must have imagined it. “Perhaps not.” He fiddled with a blade of grass. “But your parents don’t know?”

Laurel started to shake her head, but the absurdity of the situation finally managed to get through. “No… yes…maybe — I shouldn’t be here,” she said sharply, rising to her feet. “Don’t follow me.”

“Wait,” Tamani said, his voice panicked.

She pushed past a low-hanging branch. “Go away!”

“I have answers!” Tamani called.

Laurel paused and looked back. Tamani had risen up on one knee, his expression imploring her to stay.

“I have answers to all of your questions. About the blossom and…anything else.”

She turned slowly, not sure if she should trust him.

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know,” he said, his voice more quiet now.

Laurel took two steps forward and Tamani instantly relaxed. “You stay over there,” Laurel said, pointing to the far side of the clearing. “And I’m going to sit over here. I don’t want you to touch me again.”

Tamani sighed. “Fair enough.”

She settled into the grass again but stayed tense and alert, ready to run. “Okay. What is it?”

“It’s a blossom.”

“Will it go away?”

“My turn now; where did you go?”

“Crescent City. Will it go away?” she repeated, her voice sharper.

“Sadly, yes.” He sighed forlornly. “And more’s the pity.”

“You’re sure it goes away?” Laurel’s hesitation disappeared as she clung to the good news he offered.

“Of course. You’ll blossom again next year, but like all blossoms, they don’t last forever.”

“How do you know that?”

“My turn again. How far is this Crescent City?”

She shrugged. “Forty, fifty miles. Something like that.”

“Which direction?”

“Nope, my turn. How do you know about this thing?”

“I’m just like you. We’re the same kind.”

“Then where is yours?”

Tamani laughed. “I don’t blossom.”

“You said you were my kind. If that’s true, you should have one too.”

Tamani leaned on one elbow. “I’m also a guy, in case you didn’t notice.”

Laurel felt her breath quicken. She was very aware that he was a guy.

“What direction?” he repeated.

“North. Don’t you have a map?”

He grinned. “Is that your question?”

“No!” Laurel said, then glared at Tamani when he laughed. She felt her real question itching to be asked, but she was afraid of the answer. Finally she swallowed and asked quietly, “Am I turning into a flower?”

An amused smile ticked at the corner of Tamani’s mouth, but he didn’t laugh. “No,” he said softly.

Laurel felt her whole body relax with relief.

“You’ve always been a flower.”

“Excuse me?” she said. “Just what do you mean by that?”