“No!” Laurel said vehemently.

“So you’re still happy with him?”

“Yes!” Laurel insisted. “He’s great. He just had a bad day. You don’t break up with someone because of one bad day. He’s on edge because of Tam . . . ani,” she tacked on. She’d gotten too used to hearing his shortened name in school.

“But you like Tamani, too?”

“I don’t know,” Laurel whispered. “I mean, I do, but it’s not the same as with David.” Laurel leaned her head on her mom’s shoulder, feeling more confused than ever. “I love David. He’s seen me through everything.” She laughed. “And when I say everything, you know what I mean.”

“Yes, yes I do,” her mom said wryly. “But love is something that has to be as selfish as it is unselfish. You can’t make yourself love someone because you feel like you should. Just wanting to love someone isn’t enough.”

Laurel looked at her mother in shock. “Are you telling me to break up with David?” The thought almost frightened her.

“No,” her mom said. “I’m really not. I like David. I’ve never even met Tamani—which you should remedy, by the way.” She paused and laid her hand on Laurel’s. “All I’m saying is that you shouldn’t stay with him for the wrong reasons, even if they are noble ones. No one owes it to someone else to be their girlfriend. It’s a choice you remake every day.”

Laurel nodded slowly, then paused. “I love him, Mom.”

“I know you do. But there are a lot of different kinds of love.”

Chapter Twelve

SPURRED BY HER MOM’S ENCOURAGEMENT, LAUREL decided there was no reason she couldn’t have Tamani over. As a friend. So Friday night she called him on his iPhone for the first time and asked if he wanted to come over Saturday to help her with research. And by research, she meant research. Her mom wasn’t going to be home to actually meet Tamani—Saturdays were her busiest day at the store—but her dad was there. It was a start.

The doorbell rang and Laurel’s dad hollered that he would get it. There was no way she could beat him to the door. Delay tactics were her next best bet. She glanced over her shoulder again, staring at her blossom in the mirror. It was as beautiful—and whole—as ever. After a troll ripped out a handful of her petals last year, she’d been concerned it wouldn’t grow back the same. Fortunately, the new blossom didn’t look like it had been affected by the trauma at all. It was still a rich, dark blue at its center, fading to almost white at its tips. The petals fanned out in a four-pointed star that—even now that she knew what it was—looked like wings. Sometimes, when it wasn’t terrifying or incon-veniencing her, Laurel loved her blossom.

And introducing Tamani to her father while she was blooming definitely qualified as inconvenient.

Trying to stifle her nerves, Laurel adjusted her green halter-top and smoothed her capris before walking over to the door and opening it a crack. She listened for a few seconds until she heard Tamani’s soft brogue travel up the stairs. It would be worse than a disaster to head down with her blossom out, only to find that the doorbell had simply been a chatty neighbor.

Not for the first time that morning she considered calling David. He’d emailed her last night and apologized again but she hadn’t responded yet. Truth was, she didn’t know what to say. About an hour earlier she’d actually picked up the phone and started to dial. But the middle of an experiment with Tamani was not the time to work through their issues and she knew she wouldn’t be able to concentrate if David came over now and there was still tension. I’ll call him as soon as Tamani leaves, she promised herself.

She could hear Tamani and her dad talking as she slowly descended the stairs. It was weird to hear them together, and made her feel strangely jealous. For two years now Tamani had been her secret—her special person. Except for a few times with David, she hadn’t had to share him at all. Sometimes she wished she could go back to the way things used to be. When he had deep-green eyes and longish hair and didn’t wear shoes or jeans. When he was just hers.

She almost didn’t notice when the buzz of conversation stopped. All eyes were on her. “Hey,” she said with a lame wave.

“Hey is right!” her dad said, his voice loud with excitement. “Look at you! I didn’t know you were blossoming.”

Laurel shrugged. “It’s not a big deal,” she said as nonchalantly as she could manage with Tamani standing right there, staring at her blossom, his expression guarded.

Abruptly, he shoved his hands into his pockets.

Oh, yeah.

“So,” Laurel said, forcing a smile as her dad continued to gawk at her petals and Tamani looked studiously away. “Dad, Tamani. Tamani, Dad.”

“Yeah, Tamani was just telling me a little about his life as a sentry. I think it’s fascinating.”

“You think everything about the fae is fascinating,” Laurel said, rolling her eyes.

“And why shouldn’t I?” He crossed his arms over her chest and looked at her proudly.

Laurel squirmed at the attention. “Well, we have work to do,” Laurel said, inclining her head toward the stairs.

“Homework?” Laurel’s dad asked, clearly disbelieving.

“Faerie stuff,” Laurel said, shaking her head. “Tamani has generously agreed to donate his body to my research.” The words were out of Laurel’s mouth before she realized how bad they sounded. “I mean he’s helping me,” she corrected herself, feeling like an idiot.