She leaned the guitar against a tree and worked at the knot in the scarf where she’d tied it around her wrist. She’d better get the petals out of sight before her parents saw.
The long silk scarf refused to come loose from her wrist and she heard another rustle, louder than the first. Her eyes shot to the spot the sound had come from, just over her left shoulder. “Hello?”
Carefully, Laurel folded the soft petals down and wrapped them around her waist. She was about to secure them with the scarf when a figure stumbled out from behind a tree as though he had been pushed. He shot a nasty look at the tree for just a second before his face turned to Laurel. His agitation melted away and an unexpected warmth filled his eyes. “Hi,” he said with a smile.
Laurel gasped and tried to back away, but her heel caught on a root and she fell, letting go of the petals to catch herself.
It was too late to conceal anything; they sprang up in full view.
“No, don’t…! Oh, dear. I’m sorry. Can I help you?” the stranger said.
Laurel looked up into deep-green eyes almost too vibrant to be real. A young man’s face peered down at her as she lay splayed on the ground.
He extended his hand. “I really am sorry. We…I did make some noise. I thought you’d heard me.” He smiled sheepishly. “I guess I was wrong.” His face looked like a classic painting—cheekbones clearly defined under smooth, tanned skin that looked like it would fit in better on an L.A. beach than in a chilly, moss-covered forest. His hair was thick and black, matching the eyebrows and lashes framing his concerned eyes. It was rather long and damp—as though he hadn’t gone inside when it started raining—and somehow he’d managed to dye just the roots the same brilliant green as his eyes. He had a soft, gentle smile that made Laurel’s breath catch in her throat. It took her a few seconds to find her voice.
“Who are you?”
He paused and studied her with a strange, unflinching look in his eyes.
“Well?” Laurel prompted.
“You don’t know me, do you?” he asked.
She was slow to answer. She felt like she did know him. There was a memory there, at the edge of her mind, but the harder she reached for it, the faster it slipped away. “Should I?” Her voice was guarded.
The probing gaze disappeared as abruptly as it had come. The stranger laughed softly—almost sadly—and 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 set
tled 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?”
“You’re a plant. You’re not human, never have been. Blossoming is only the most obvious manifestation,” Tamani explained, more calm than Laurel thought he had any right to be.
“A plant?” Laurel said, not bothering to hide the disbelief in her voice.
“Yes. Not just any kind of plant, of course. The most highly evolved form of nature in the world.” He leaned forward, his green eyes sparkling. “Laurel, you’re a faerie.”
Laurel’s jaw clenched as she realized how stupid she’d been. Taken in by a handsome face, conned into letting him lead her far into the forest, and even half-believing his outrageous claims. She stood, her eyes flashing with anger.
“Wait,” Tamani said, lunging forward to grab on to her wrist. “Don’t go yet. I need to know what your parents are going to do with this land.”
Laurel yanked her wrist away. “I want you to leave,” she hissed. “If I ever see you here again, I will call the police.” She turned and ran, tugging her shirt back down over the petals.
He called after her, “Laurel, I have to know. Laurel!”
She pushed herself to go faster. Nothing seemed more important than putting as much distance as possible between herself and Tamani, this strange person who stirred up so many confusing emotions within her.
When she reached the clearing where she’d been before following Tamani, Laurel paused for a few moments to wrap the petals back around her waist and secure them with the scarf. She picked up her guitar and lifted the strap over her back. As she did, her hand crossed a beam of sunlight. She paused and stuck her hand out again. Her wrist glittered with tiny specks of shimmering powder. Great. He left some sort of residue on me. That’s a stupid trick.
When she got within sight of the cabin, she paused, her chest heaving. She looked at her wrist again and anger bubbled up inside of her as she rubbed at the glittery powder till all traces of it were gone.
NINE
THE NEXT DAY, LAUREL FELT LIKE A ZOMBIE. SHE didn’t want to believe anything Tamani had said. But she couldn’t help but think about it and wonder. Was it possible? Then she would get angry with herself for being ridiculous, and the whole cycle would start again.
David tried to catch her several times in the hallway, but she managed to duck into her classes ahead of him.
But she couldn’t avoid him in biology.
He hurried to claim his usual seat beside her. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Is it spreading?” he whispered before she could turn away.
She shook her head and her hair fell around her face like a wall between them.
David scooted his chair a little closer as the rest of the class noisily took their seats. “Laurel, you’ve got to talk to me. You’re going to drive yourself crazy holding everything in like this.”
“I can’t—” Her voice choked off as tears welled up in her eyes. “I can’t talk right now.”
David nodded. “Can we talk after school?” he whispered as Mr. James started the class.
Laurel nodded and tried to subtly wipe away her tears without attracting attention.
David patted her leg under her desk, then started doodling in his notebook. Laurel wished he’d take a few more notes for her to copy.
The day dragged by as Laurel went back and forth in her mind, berating herself for promising to tell David, then being relieved that she had someone to tell. She wasn’t sure how to even start. How does one just come out and say, “Oh, hey, I might be a mythological creature”?
“I’m not,” Laurel whispered under her breath. “It’s stupid.”
But she couldn’t quite convince herself.
After school, she and David walked toward his house. David seemed to sense she wasn’t quite ready to talk, so they walked in silence.
He was especially gentle as he helped her over his back fence, his hand studiously avoiding her back. He held onto her arms when she jumped down from the fence, and once she’d landed and was steady, he still didn’t pull his hands away.
Laurel felt the urge to curl herself up against his chest and just forget about all this nonsense. But she knew that was impossible. He stared at her unblinkingly until she shoved her hands into her pockets and forced herself to turn away.
“This way,” David said, taking the lead as they walked out to the twisted tree.
Laurel looked up at the dense canopy of foliage above her. It was October now and the leaves were in a perfect state of half-transformation. The edges were orange and red—with some branches boasting yellows and pale browns, the centers still fighting to remain green. It made the forest beautiful with the blends of colors, but Laurel was a little sad to see the green lose its battle to the more flamboyant hues.
It made her think of her own blossom. Would it slowly die like the leaves? Would it hurt? she thought suddenly with a clench of fear. Even if it did, it would be worth it just to have it gone. But Tamani had also said she would grow another one next year. She hoped most of what he said was true. The rest of it…she didn’t even want to think about it.
But her thoughts kept wandering back anyway. And although she hated to admit it, it wasn’t just because the information was so bizarre; it was because of Tamani himself. He had shaken her—introduced emotions she’d never experienced. That sharp sense of wanting someone without even knowing them—she’d never felt that way before. Not with anyone. It was exciting and exhilarating but also a little scary. A part of her that seemed totally out of her control. She wasn’t sure she liked it.
He was so…was beautiful the right word? It seemed like the right word. Whatever he was, she could hardly pull her eyes away from him. That’s the part that really made her wonder if he had been some sort of mirage. A super-realistic dream.
She glanced down at her wrist where she’d rubbed the glittering powder away. That had been real. She’d found a small streak of it on her jeans when she got home. He had to be real.
And then there was the nagging suspicion that she’d seen him before. She couldn’t shake it. And he’d certainly acted as if he knew her. Why would he know her? H
ow could he know her? The whole situation was making her head spin.
“So, what happened yesterday?” David finally asked as they came into sight of the tree.
Laurel groaned, thinking how silly this had all started to seem after she’d agreed to talk to David. “It’s so ridiculous, David, I don’t know why I’m so worked up over it. Probably because it makes me feel stupid.”
“Does it have to do with the, uh, flower?”
“Sort of, maybe. I don’t know,” Laurel said. Her words spilled out as she started to pace. “Only if it’s true, and I can’t believe that. I’m starting to think I made the whole thing up, like a dream I don’t remember falling asleep for or something.”
“You’re not making any sense.”
“Sense,” Laurel said with a snort. “When I tell you what he said, I’ll be making even less sense.”
“Who?”
Laurel stopped pacing and leaned against a tree. “I met someone. Up at the land. A guy, sort of.” A man almost, but she didn’t say it out loud. “He said he lives there.”
“On your land?”
“That’s what I said.”
“What did your parents say?”
Laurel shook her head. “They didn’t see him.”
“You met him alone?”
Laurel nodded.
“Some strange guy all by yourself? You’re lucky you didn’t get hurt!” He paused for a second, then asked quietly, “Did you get hurt?”
But Laurel was already shaking her head. “It wasn’t like that.” For a moment, she remembered the feeling she’d had while sitting in the small glade. “I felt safe; I was safe. He…he knew me. I don’t know how. He saw the flower and wasn’t surprised at all. He told me it’s a blossom.”
“A blossom?”
“He also said it’ll go away. That’s the only part of the conversation I’m hoping and praying was true.”
“Who was he? Did he say?”
“He said his name was Tamani.” As soon as she said his name she wished she hadn’t. The name seemed somehow magical and saying it aloud brought back that out-of-control feeling that made her feel strangely impulsive. His face invaded her mind, blocking her view of anything else. His intense eyes, that half-grin, the way she’d been overwhelmed by a sense of comfort and familiarity when he touched her hand.