“Riiight,” said Kate. “Exactly. You need some.”
“And why do I need flowers?” asked Miss Spenser.
Kate gestured like a game-show host. “Because they’ll complete your ensemble?”
“And you can thank the friend who’s making you dinner,” said Laurel. “You know: ‘Say it with flowers.’ You look empty-handed.”
Miss Spenser smiled. “Your earlier bouquet was lovely. How long might this take?”
“Ten minutes?” said Laurel.
“All right,” said Miss Spenser. “I could use a sip of water.”
“Great!” Laurel pulled Kate’s arm and whispered as they hurried away. “Run to the bathroom and get some wet paper towels. Please.”
“Cool,” said Kate. “Got it.”
Laurel let her legs lengthen into a sprint as she headed toward the library. She rounded the tower and gasped. Hundreds of tulips—red, yellow, and white—had opened their petals to the warming sun. Yellow tulips were for “hopeless love” or friendship, she remembered, and she wasn’t sure about white, so she picked only red. A hint of their spiciness swirled around her, but she tried not to breathe it in. She gathered a dozen—enough to speak loudly for Miss Spenser’s shy heart.
Moments later Laurel was dashing back to the teacher cottages. Nicole couldn’t smell the tulips, but Laurel hadn’t said her words then. In her mind’s eye she pictured Professor Featherstone kissing Miss Spenser’s hand, the two of them twirling and waltzing with happiness.
“Bright cut flowers,” Laurel said, “leaves of green. Bring about what I have seen.” The scented energy rocketed up her arm and flowed through her body.
Kate was just ahead on the path, but so was Tara. Breathless, Laurel held the flowers farther from her face and hoped no one else could hear the humming that filled her ears.
Tara shook her head. “More flowers? Are you playing Little Red again?”
Kate glanced anxiously from Tara to Laurel. She handed the wet paper towels to Laurel who—her hands shaking visibly—wrapped them around the stems. The humming, the tingling inside her was building.
“I like Laurel’s flowers,” said Kate.
“You’re not supposed to pick them on school grounds,” said Tara.
Laurel mirrored her glare. “Are you going to tell on me?”
“I’m no snitch,” said Tara. “Just tell me who they’re for.”
Suddenly dizzy, Laurel looked pleadingly at Kate.
“Um,” Kate started, “she’s givin’ them to Ms. Suarez . . . who needs them for some meeting thingy at the conservatory. Right?”
“Right,” Laurel panted. Her hands were stinging, and she could barely stand still.
“La-ame,” said Tara. “But why should I expect more from you?”
“Got to run.” Laurel flashed Kate a look of gratitude and took off. Miss Spenser was waiting in her car, and Laurel almost tossed the tulips through the open window.
Miss Spenser caught them in her lap. “Oh! How wonderful. Where did you get these?”
The fierce energy sailed out of her, and Laurel sighed in relief. “By the library. There are tons blooming.”
“You know, students aren’t supposed to pick flowers.” Miss Spenser tried to look stern, but her finger was stroking one of the velvety petals.
“Keep the bouquet with you the whole time,” Laurel said. “Especially when you’re with the professor.”
Miss Spenser’s eyebrows lifted. “How do you know that I’m seeing him?”
Laurel felt like her mind had stumbled. “But you are, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but you’re becoming quite dictatorial these days,” Miss Spenser teased, suddenly girlish. “Thank you, dear. You’re an angel.”
Waving, Laurel watched the taillights disappear down the tree-lined road and crossed her fingers. This is so crazy, she thought, walking to dinner. But it feels right.
By the time Laurel reached the dining hall, Kate’s table was full. Laurel had a quick meal with Rose and Mina and then headed for the dorm’s basement, which held the mailroom. An occasional postcard from her dad was all she could realistically hope for, but she couldn’t stop herself from checking. The other letters her mom had promised were somewhere in this world.
“Where’s Tara?” Laurel whispered to Kate, who showed up moments later.
“Nicole’s room,” said Kate. She picked up a package and read the label. “Yay, it’s for me. My mom’s the queen of express mail.”
Laurel’s box was empty as usual. Her dad’s easy smile flashed into her mind, and she couldn’t help wondering if someone new was filling his time.
Kate also had a card in her box, which she handed to Laurel as they walked up the stairs. “My dad adores goofy cards,” she explained. The card was funny, but Laurel had to fake a laugh. Kate’s life seemed charmed. Tara’s door was closed, a sure signal she was still elsewhere.
“You got the tulips to Spinster Spenser, right?” Kate whispered.
Laurel nodded. “Want to come in for a sec?” She shut the door behind them.
“Wow,” said Kate. “Your room’s so neat. Mine’s a mess.”
Laurel shrugged. Her room was one of the few things in her life she had complete control over.
Kate sat on the bed and opened her package. She pulled out a tie-dyed shirt with a scoop neck and held it against her chest. “My mom has awesome taste, doesn’t she?”
Laurel could barely speak through the waves of jealousy. Her mom would never buy her another shirt. “Yeah. Great.”
Kate met Laurel’s eyes, and her mouth opened in recognition. “Oh. I’m sorry. You can borrow it any time, if you wanna.”
Tara’s distinctive laugh rang out in the hallway.
“Thanks for covering for me,” said Laurel.
“I hope she doesn’t find out,” Kate whispered. “It’s pretty rough on her bad side.”
“I know. I’m there.”
“All she talks about now is Everett. She’s in luv.” Kate wrinkled her nose and looked around. “Your room smells good. What is it?”
“Rosemary.” Laurel broke off a piece and handed it to Kate. “Here.”
“Mmm. It smells soft.”
“‘Rosemary to remember,’” said Laurel. The next phrases echoed through her mind. With sage I esteem, thyme to be active—but the last line still eluded her.
“‘Rosemary to remember,’” Kate repeated. “Can it make you remember?”
“Maybe,” said Laurel. “Here, smell it.”
Kate bent over the herb and sniffed obediently.
“Now close your eyes,” Laurel said. “Does it make you see anything or feel anything?”
“Like what?” said Kate, her eyes still closed.
“Like something you forgot about. Something you didn’t even know you knew.”
Kate blinked. “Is it supposed to?”
Laurel shrugged. “It’s probably just an old saying.”
“Can I keep it anyway?” asked Kate. “I need all the rememberin’ help I can get.”
“For what?”
“Pivotal dates in world history. That gigantic test is comin’ up. Did you forget?”
Laurel shook her head as she glanced at her homework calendar. She had more important things to remember. “Ugh. I’ve got a Latin quiz tomorrow. Want to study together?”
Kate shook her head. “I don’t take Latin.”
“But it’s required.”
“No, it’s not. I take Spanish.”
“So do I,” said Laurel, frowning. Latin had simply appeared on her Avondale schedule, and she hadn’t thought to question it.
Movie night was on Avondale’s campus that Friday. Tara had practically superglued herself to Kate, and Ally had a cold, so Laurel walked into the auditorium with Rose and Mina. She scanned the rows of heads for Justin. Kate—wedged between Tara and Nicole—waved as Laurel passed. Tara had stuck a red tulip over one ear.
Copycat. Laurel’s stomach tightened in fear. Did Kate
spill to Tara?
Some Willowlawn guys were turned around in their seats facing Kate and Tara, and Laurel recognized one of them. The gorgeous one.
“Hey! You’re that flower girl,” Everett called out. “Laur-elle. Qué pasa?”
“Hi. Uh, fine.” Her face reddened as she sat down next to Rose.
To her surprise, Everett hopped over several guys, crossed the aisle, and knelt on the empty seat in front of her. “I’m kinda disappointed, Laur-elle.”
Thinking she smelled a prank, Laurel looked around suspiciously. She wanted him gone until she noticed Tara watching them. “Why are you disappointed, Ev-rett?”
“You didn’t bring me a fuzzy-wuzzy.” Everett shook his head in phony distress. “Again. You know, I was really hoping for more from our relationship. Flowers are sooo special to me.”
Laurel knew better than to trust him, but she could play this game. “You call this a relationship? I haven’t heard from you in weeks. Not even a dandelion.”
Everett grinned. “You mean there’s still hope for me?”
Rose leaned forward. “Not in this lifetime, Ev.”
“Oh, hello, Rose.” Everett bowed with mock formality. “Nice seeing you. You leave your broomstick in your locker?”
Rose slapped the chair in front of her. “Ha-ha. You’re such a wit. Or is it twit?”
Everett held up his hands. “Oooh, Rose is thorny tonight. Get it?”
Laurel had to smile, but Rose scowled. “Like I haven’t heard that one.”
“Look, I’m just trying to get to know Laur-elle here,” said Everett. “The new girl.”
Rose shooed him. “Go sit with your little buddies, Ev. She’s my cousin.”
Everett glanced between them. “Now I see the family resemblance. Are you a flower girl, too, Rosie?”
“No,” Laurel said with a firmness that surprised even herself. “She’s not.”
Rose’s eyebrow lifted at her as the lights flashed.
“Got to go.” Everett stretched his hand toward Laurel. “Later, Laur-elle.”
But Laurel was struck with a jolting thought as she shook his hand. Everett was the only guy who seemed remotely interested in her flowers. Was there any way he had left the mystery bouquet? That made no sense.
“Congratulations,” Rose whispered. “You’ve attracted the attention of the most obnoxious, arrogant fathead on the whole Willowlawn campus.”
“Don’t hold back now,” Mina said.
“You know I can’t stand him,” hissed Rose.
Laurel tried to focus on the images flashing on the screen, but Everett’s antics confused her. She half expected the whole room to turn around and start laughing at her, like this was some premeditated prank.
When the lights finally went up, she spotted Justin at the rear of the room, but it was too crowded for her to catch up. They followed everyone to the dining hall, where popcorn and sodas were being served. Laurel’s eyes darted around as they grabbed bags and headed for some chairs in a corner.
“What’s the deal with you and Everett?” Laurel asked Rose.
“That boy drives me insane,” said Rose.
“I’ve heard this saga,” said Mina. She wound her way back into the crowd.
Rose shook her head. “Last semester Everett and I got assigned to work on a project together because of this math test we both aced. He was less than worthless. I totally carried him, and then he bragged about the blue ribbon I won.”
Laurel spied Everett with a red tulip between his teeth. Tara was pretending to be miffed. “So, he’s actually smart?”
Rose threw a popped kernel up and caught it in her mouth. “Irritatingly so. He’s gifted but totally lazy. He just coasts and mooches and gets away with it.”
Laurel nodded, but the word gifted caught her attention. All of us have gifts we are meant to share, her mom’s letter said.
Kate emerged from the crowd and sat down on the empty chair next to Laurel. “Y’all like the movie?”
“Just super,” said Rose.
Laurel offered Kate some popcorn, but her eyes gravitated back to Everett. The tulip was tucked behind his ear now, and she wondered if he—or Tara—could smell its spicy scent. Is it sending any messages? she thought.
Kate leaned close. “So, what’s up with you and Everett?”
“Huh?” said Laurel, but her face felt hot.
Kate elbowed her. “I saw you two chattin’ it up before the movie. And you were just starin’ at him.”
Laurel shrugged. “He’s . . . entertaining, but you said Tara liked him.”
“She does,” said Kate. “Do you, too?”
“Puh-leeeze.” Rose’s head fell backward. “Say it ain’t so.”
“It ain’t so.” Laurel said as she caught Tara watching them. “Why are you asking?”
Kate sat up straighter. “You talked to him a while, and I didn’t know you knew him.”
“We barely talked.” Laurel felt a sudden flash of doubt about Kate’s motives. “Did Tara tell you to quiz me?”
“No,” Kate stammered. “I was just wonderin’. I thought we were friends now.”
“I thought so, too,” said Laurel. “But ‘friends’ don’t report back to other people.”
Kate’s arms crossed tight on her chest. “So don’t tell me anything.”
Rose stood. “Let’s get out of here, Laurel. It’s too crowded.”
Laurel stood uncertainly and then trailed after Rose. Halfway across the room she turned, expecting to see Kate chasing after Tara, but Kate was still slouched in the chair.
Mina sat cross-legged on the floor outside the dining hall, and Rose sat down next to her. “You really think Kate’s reporting back to Tara? I thought she was your bud,” said Rose.
Laurel’s spirits sagged as she slid down the wall beside her. “I don’t know.”
“You should have made something up—something juicy about you and Everett.”
Mina leaned forward. “What’s juicy?”
“Nothing.” Laurel let her head fall back against the wall. “My life is not juicy.” It’s nothing like I thought it would be.
“Your life could be juicy,” teased Rose. “But promise me you won’t do anything moronic like liking Everett. That would send me over the edge.”
Mina laughed. “You’re already over.”
Laurel crossed her heart. “I promise.”
Mina elbowed Rose. “Even you have to give Everett credit for pulling off the mother of all pranks. Bubble gum and helium balloons: pure genius. Mr. Rodriguez was ready to call the SWAT team when the balloons started popping in rapid fire.”
Rose frowned at her. “Just wait. I have two more years to top it.”
Out of the corner of her eye Laurel saw several guys coming toward them, and Rose called out, “Hey, Justin. Alan.”
Laurel’s head snapped sideways.
“Hey, Rose,” Justin said. “Hi, Mina.” He was wearing jeans with holes at the knees and a black T-shirt. His eyes fell on Laurel, and his smile seemed to warm the air. “Hey.”
“Hi,” Laurel said. Her voice sounded squeaky.
Alan held up his hand and slid down the wall on the other side of Mina.
“This is my cousin Laurel,” Rose said. “These guys are on the debate team with me.”
Justin hesitated and then settled onto the floor near Laurel. “Victorian flower messages, right?”
Laurel nodded. “You saw my amazing report.”
“Yeah. Tough crowd, but you hung in there.”
“Did I have a choice?”
“Guess not, but Spinster Spenser’s all right, isn’t she?” he said.
“Yeah, I really like her. You should hear her read poetry.” Especially luv poetry, Laurel thought, remembering an amazing poem about petals and fingers. She glanced at Justin’s long smooth hands.
Rose tapped Justin’s knee with her fist. “No more school talk, Geek-asaurus Rex. It’s the weekend now. Laurel’s a big jock like you.”
“What do you play?” Justin asked.
“Soccer,” said Laurel. “Left wing. JV. What about you?”
“I run cross-country.” He pointed at the guy with brown curly hair who was talking to Mina and Rose now. “Alan does, too. What the—”
Justin jerked his head back as something flew past his nose and landed in Laurel’s lap. It was a red tulip. Totally confused, Laurel picked it up and looked down the hallway. Everett waved to her, but Tara stood next to him, her face twisted in anger.
A declaration of love? thought Laurel. No way.
Everett gestured toward her. “She’s the flower girl,” he explained loudly. “She gets all the flowers.”
Laurel’s face was as red as the tulip, but she longed to breathe in its rich spiciness, for Justin to breathe it beside her. She ignored the question in Rose’s eyes, because Tara was already glowering down at them.
“That one’s mine,” Tara said, holding out her hand.
“Uh, sure.” Laurel thrust the flower up at Tara, who walked off in a huff. One of the petals had fallen into Laurel’s lap.
Laurel’s eyes flicked back to Everett, who was laughing loudly with his friends. “Is he drunk or something?” she whispered as she stroked the soft petal.
“Who knows,” said Justin. “He’s almost always a jerk.”
“Always,” added Rose.
“Great,” said Laurel. “And he’s weird about flowers, too.”
“Hey, my mom’s pretty into flowers,” Justin said. “I should get her that book you mentioned. What’s it called again?”
“The Language of Flowers,” said Laurel.
“Can I get it online?” asked Justin.
“I think so. It would make a great gift, like for Mother’s Day. And you could give her a tussie—” She stopped.
Justin was saying something else, but Laurel couldn’t focus on his voice because of the sudden and searing pain in her chest as her own words sank in like a hatchet. I don’t ever have to buy a Mother’s Day present again, she thought. Ever.
Clutching her stomach and pressing her spine against the wall, she managed to stand up. Merde. She’d embarrassed herself in front of this crowd too many times already.
“Laurel? You okay?” Justin looked up at her. His hand reached toward her, but if she took it, she might disintegrate.
Forget-Her-Nots Page 6