Wings w-1

by Aprilynne Pike

  He pulled back and Laurel made the mistake of meeting his eyes. She smiled, then had to look away as she counted to ten. Then he was leaning back in, his hand tugging softly on her shoulder.

  Laurel met him halfway without any hesitation this time. His mouth pressed to hers and he opened his lips just a little. She blew all the air from her lungs back into his mouth and felt him inhale it. He lingered for just a moment before pulling back and breaking contact.

  “Wow.” He exhaled and ran his fingers through his hair. “Wow. That was amazing. My head’s spinning a little. I think you’re exhaling almost pure oxygen, Laurel.”

  “You’re not going to fall off your stool, are you?” She placed her hands on his legs.

  “I’m all right,” David said, breathing slowly. “Just give me a couple more seconds.” He let his hands slide down to cover hers, where they were still braced on his legs. She looked up as he sucked on his bottom lip, then grinned.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Sorry,” David said, reddening again. “You just taste so sweet.”

  “What do you mean, sweet?”

  He licked his bottom lip one more time. “You taste like honey.”

  “Honey?”

  “Yeah. I thought I was going nuts the day…well, you know, that one day. But it was the same today. Your mouth is really sweet.” He paused for a second, then grinned. “Not like honey — like nectar. That makes more sense.”

  “Great. Now I’m going to have to explain that to everyone I kiss for the rest of my life unless it’s you or…or another faerie.” She’d almost said Tamani’s name. Her fingers flew to the ring around her neck.

  David shrugged. “Then don’t kiss anyone except me.”

  “David…”

  “I’m just offering up the obvious solution,” he said, hands up in protest.

  She laughed and rolled her eyes. “I guess that’ll keep me from being one of those girls who kisses everyone.”

  David shook his head. “You could never be like that. Your feelings are too soft. You’d worry that you were breaking the heart of every guy you kissed.”

  She wasn’t sure if he meant that as a compliment or not, but it felt that way. “Um, thanks. I think.”

  “So what is that?” he asked, pointing to her necklace. “You keep playing with it.”

  Laurel dropped the ring down the front of her shirt. It was like a talisman that sent her thoughts straight to Tamani. She wondered if Tamani had known before he gave it to her that it would do that. She was a little surprised when the thought didn’t irritate her. “It’s a ring,” she finally confessed. “Tamani gave it to me.”

  David looked at her strangely. “Tamani gave you a ring?”

  “It’s not like that.” Guys. “It’s a baby ring. I guess all faeries get them when they’re little.” Against her impulse to keep the ring her own special secret, she pulled the chain out from under her shirt and showed David the tiny circlet.

  “That’s really pretty,” he said grudgingly. “Why’d he give it to you?”

  Laurel tried to shrug his question away. “I don’t know. He just wanted me to have it.”

  David looked at it for a long time before dropping it back onto her chest.

  SIXTEEN

  “JUST IN TIME,” MOM SAID AS LAUREL WALKED IN THE door from school the next day. “The phone’s for you.”

  Laurel took the phone. She’d just left David at the corner. Why would he call her already? “Hello?” she asked questioningly.

  “Hey, Laurel. It’s Chelsea.”

  “Hi,” Laurel said.

  “Are you busy? It’s a sunny day, so I thought you might like to go see the Battery Point Lighthouse.”

  Laurel had heard of the historic landmark but hadn’t yet seen it. “Yeah,” she said. “I’d love to.”

  “Pick you up in five?”

  “Great.”

  “Going somewhere with David?” Laurel’s mom asked after she hung up.

  “Chelsea, actually. She wants to go to the lighthouse. Is that okay?”

  “Sure, that’s wonderful. I’m glad to see you branching out. You know I like David a lot, but you should have more friends. It’s healthier.”

  Laurel went to the fridge and opened up a soda while she was waiting.

  “I got your midterm grades in the mail today,” her mom said.

  The soda seemed to stick in Laurel’s throat. Up until she blossomed, she’d been doing quite well in school, but she wasn’t sure how much of that she’d been able to keep up when her life went crazy.

  “Three As, two Bs. I’m pretty happy with that,” her mom said with a smile. Then she laughed and added, “Honestly, part of me is proud of myself. I must have done an okay job for you to be doing this well.”

  Laurel rolled her eyes as her mom handed her the grades. The B in bio wasn’t surprising, but then neither was the A in English. All she had to do was make it until the end of the semester now. Shouldn’t be too hard. The worst was definitely behind her.

  “Why’s Dad’s car here?” Laurel asked.

  Her mom sighed. “Dad’s sick. He’s been sick all day. Missed work, even.”

  “Wow,” Laurel said. “He hasn’t missed a day of work in forever.”

  “Yeah. I made him stay in bed all day. He should be better tomorrow.”

  She heard a horn honk in the driveway.

  “There’s Chelsea,” Laurel said, grabbing her jacket.

  “Have fun,” her mom said with a smile.

  Laurel slid into the backseat of Chelsea’s mom’s car and Chelsea turned and beamed at her. “Hey! The lighthouse is awesome; it’s totally classic. You’ll love it.”

  Chelsea’s mom dropped them off in the parking lot. “I’ll be back in about two hours,” she said.

  “Bye,” Chelsea called, waving.

  “Where now?” Laurel said, looking out at the ocean.

  “We walk,” Chelsea said, pointing to an island about five hundred feet out from the shore.

  “We’re walking to an island?”

  “Technically it’s an isthmus when the tide is low.”

  Shading her eyes from the sun, Laurel squinted out at the island. “I don’t see a lighthouse.”

  “It’s not like the lighthouses you see in paintings. It’s just a house with a light on the roof.”

  Chelsea led the way as they walked on a small strip of sand that connected the little island to the mainland. It was fun to be so close to the ocean without actually being in it. Laurel liked the tangy smell of the salt water and the fresh breeze that caressed her face and sent Chelsea’s curly hair swinging. It was ironic, really, that she enjoyed the smell of the ocean when she hated salty water.

  When they reached the island, there was a gravel road that led up a hill. It was only a few minutes before they came around a small bend and the lighthouse came into view.

  “It really is just a normal house,” Laurel said, surprised.

  “Except for the light,” Chelsea said, pointing.

  Chelsea played tour guide, under the watchful eye of a security guard, as she showed Laurel through the small house and explained the history of the lighthouse, including its role in the tsunamis that Crescent City fell victim to every few years. “They’re awesome,” Chelsea said, “at least, when they don’t get too big.”

  Laurel wasn’t sure she shared Chelsea’s enthusiasm.

  Chelsea took her out to a small yard and pointed out the purple flowers that grew up the rocks on all sides of the tiny island. “They’re really pretty,” Laurel said, bending to touch a small patch of the tiny blossoms.

  Chelsea pulled a blanket out of her bag and spread it on the soft grass. They sat together, watching the sea in silence for a few minutes. Laurel felt so at peace in this rugged, beautiful place. Chelsea dug into her bag again and brought out a Snickers bar for herself and handed Laurel a small Tupperware.

  “What’s this?” Laurel asked.

  “Strawberries. They’re org
anic, if that matters,” Chelsea added.

  Laurel smiled and popped the top. “Thanks. They look great.” A million times better than the candy bar Chelsea was enjoying.

  “So what’s up with you and David?”

  Laurel choked on the strawberry she had just started chewing and coughed energetically. “What do you mean?”

  “I just wondered if you guys are a couple yet.”

  “Well, don’t beat around the bush about it or anything,” Laurel said, more to her strawberries than to Chelsea.

  “He really likes you, Laurel.” Chelsea sighed. “I wish he liked me half as much.”

  Laurel poked at her strawberries with her fork.

  “I think I’ve liked him since the day he moved here. He and I used to be on a soccer team together,” she added, smiling.

  Laurel could see in her mind a ten-year-old Chelsea — opinionated and outspoken just like now, and not really fitting in — meeting David for the first time. Nonjudgmental, accepting David. It was no wonder Chelsea had latched on to him. But still…“Chelsea, no offense, but why are you telling me this?”

  “I don’t know.” They were silent for a little while. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad or anything,” Chelsea assured her. “David doesn’t like me that way, I know that. Honestly, if he’s going to have a girlfriend, I’d rather it was someone like you. Someone I’m friends with too.”

  “That’s good, I guess,” Laurel said.

  “So…are you his girlfriend now?” Chelsea pressed.

  “I don’t know. Maybe?”

  “Is that a question?” Chelsea asked with a grin.

  “I don’t know.” She paused, then glanced sidelong at Chelsea. “You really don’t mind if I talk about it?”

  “Not at all. It’s like living vicariously.”

  “You say the weirdest things sometimes,” Laurel said ruefully.

  “Yeah, that’s what David says too. Personally, I don’t think enough people say what they really think.”

  “You definitely have a point there.”

  “So, girlfriend or not?” Chelsea asked again, refusing to let it drop.

  Laurel shrugged. “I really don’t know. Sometimes I think that’s what I want, but I’ve never had a boyfriend before. I’ve never really even had a guy who was a close friend. I like it a lot…I don’t want to lose that part.”

  “Maybe you won’t.”

  “Maybe. I’m just not sure.”

  “There could be fringe benefits,” Chelsea said.

  “Like what?”

  “If you guys were on kissing terms he might do your bio homework.”

  “Tempting,” Laurel said. “I suck at bio.”

  Chelsea grinned. “Yeah, that’s what he said.”

  Laurel’s eyes widened. “He did not! Really?”

  “It’s hardly a secret — you moan about it almost every day at lunch. I think he’d be a great boyfriend,” Chelsea added.

  “Why are you encouraging this? Most people in your position would be trying to break us up.”

  “I am not most people,” Chelsea said defensively. “Besides,” she continued in a lighter tone, “it would make him really happy. I like it when David’s happy.”

  “I’m home,” Laurel yelled as she entered the house, tossed her backpack on the ground, and walked into the pantry in search of a jar of canned pears. Her mom came in a few minutes later as Laurel was nibbling on a pear half straight out of the jar. But instead of the “Mom look” Laurel usually got for not using a bowl, her mom only sighed and smiled wearily.

  “Can you fend for yourself for dinner tonight?”

  “Sure, what’s up?”

  “Your dad’s just getting worse. His stomach hurts and is a little swollen, and now he’s got a fever. It’s not too high — around a hundred — but I can’t get it to go down. Not with cold compresses or a cool bath or even my hyssop and licorice-root capsules.”

  “Really?” Laurel asked. Her mom had an herb for everything, and they worked wonders. Her friends often called her up when they were at the end of their ropes and the over-the-counter medications just weren’t cutting it. “Did you try giving him some Echinacea tea?” she suggested, since that was what her mom always gave her.

  “Made him a whole batch of it, iced. But he’s having trouble swallowing, too, so I don’t know that he’s getting enough to help.”

  “I bet it was something he ate,” Laurel suggested.

  “Maybe,” her mom said distractedly, but she didn’t sound convinced. “He really took a turn for the worse right after you left. Anyway,” she added, snapping her head back to her daughter, “I’m going to spend the evening with him, see if I can make him a bit more comfortable.”

  “No problem. I’ve got canned pears and a bunch of homework.”

  “Exciting night for both of us.”

  “Yep,” Laurel said with a sigh, looking over at the stack of books waiting for her on the table.

  SEVENTEEN

  AFTER SCHOOL ON THURSDAY, LAUREL GRABBED HER blue apron and headed down the street toward Mark’s Bookshelf. Jen, Brent, and Maddie — her dad’s staff — had been putting in extra shifts, but if things continued the way they’d been, all three would top forty hours by Friday. Laurel wanted to at least give Brent and Jen the day off. She and Maddie could manage. Maddie was the only employee Laurel’s dad had inherited from the former bookstore owner. Maddie had been working in that store for almost ten years now and, luckily, could about run the place herself.

  But it wasn’t the bookstore Laurel worried about as she walked toward Main Street. She’d gone into her parents’ room to get some last-minute instructions from her dad and had been shocked by his appearance. Dad had always been on the thin side, but now his face was sunken and gray, with deep shadows under his eyes. His lips were pale and a thin sheen of sweat covered his brow. Laurel’s mom had tried everything. Poultices of lavender and rosemary on his chest, fennel tea for his stomach, loads of vitamin C to strengthen his immune system. Nothing seemed to be working. She gave him brandy at night to help him sleep and dripped peppermint oil in the humidifier. Still no improvement. Not letting pride stand in her way, she had even tried a handful of conventional medications — NyQuil and Extra Strength Tylenol — and still he didn’t feel any better. What everyone had hoped was a nasty flu had turned serious far more quickly than her mom could have anticipated.

  When Laurel volunteered to go to the bookstore that afternoon so her mom could stay home with her dad, her mom had hugged Laurel tightly and whispered thanks into her ear. He didn’t look like himself at all — more like a sickly caricature of the man he’d been only a few days ago. He’d tried to smile and joke the way he always did — always had — but even that was too much for him.

  A cheerful chime sounded as Laurel opened the front door of the store.

  Maddie looked up and smiled. “Laurel? You get prettier every time I see you.” She hugged her, and Laurel lingered in the embrace, feeling a little better. Maddie always smelled like cookies and spices and something else Laurel could never put her finger on.

  “How’s your dad?” Maddie asked with an arm still around Laurel’s shoulders.

  Her answer to everyone else had been a simple, “He’s okay.” But when Maddie asked, Laurel couldn’t just brush it off. “He looks awful, Maddie. Like skin sitting loose on a skeleton. My mom can’t do anything to help. Nothing is working.”

  “Even her hyssop and licorice root?”

  Laurel smiled painfully. “That’s what I asked.”

  “Well, it’s a miracle cure, as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Not for Dad. Not this time, anyway.”

  “I light a candle for him every night.” What licorice root and hyssop were to Laurel’s mom, candles were to Maddie. She was a devout Catholic who had a rack of candles in her front window and lit one for everything from a fellow parishioner dying of cancer to a neighborhood cat gone missing. Still, Laurel was grateful.

  �
�Dad sent in a schedule for the rest of the week.”

  Maddie laughed. “Sick in bed and still drawing up schedules — he must not be too close to death’s door.” She held out her hand. “Here, let’s have it.” Maddie studied the handwritten schedule. “He’s got us cutting business hours, I see.”

  Laurel nodded. “There just aren’t enough employees to maintain regular hours.”

  “That’s fine. I’ve been telling him for months it was silly to open at eight. Who wants to buy a book at eight o’clock in the morning?” She leaned forward as if sharing a secret. “Truth be told, I don’t even like to be out of bed at eight o’clock in the morning.”

  They worked the next few hours together cheerfully enough, both avoiding the subject of Laurel’s father. But he was never far from Laurel’s mind. She left Maddie finishing up the end-of-day paperwork and taped a sign to the door apologizing for the unscheduled closing of the store that weekend.

  Laurel walked home slowly, her whole body tired after two hours of stocking box after box of books. As she rounded the last corner, she saw a large vehicle parked in her driveway. It took a few seconds to register what she was seeing, but her feet began to run the second she recognized the white and red ambulance. She burst through her front door just as the paramedics were coming down the stairs with her father on a stretcher, her mom only a step behind.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Laurel asked, her eyes pinned to her father.

  Tears were tracing lines down her mom’s face. “He started throwing up blood. I had to call.”

  The stairs finally cleared enough for Laurel to reach her mom. She wrapped her arms around her waist. “It’s fine, Mom. He’ll be glad you did.”

  “He doesn’t trust doctors,” her mom said distractedly.

  “That doesn’t matter. He needs this.”

  Her mom nodded, but Laurel wasn’t sure she’d even heard her. “I have to go with him,” she said. “Only one person is allowed to ride in the ambulance. I think it’ll be better if I call you when he’s settled.”