“I just—” He was silent for a long moment and Laurel wondered if he would finish his sentence. “I wanted to come and ask you,” he finally continued, “if there was any reason I shouldn’t accept.” Then he looked up at her with pale green eyes that shone in the setting sun.

No—the light in Tamani’s eyes was much more than a reflection. It was the fire that melted her anger and devastated her resolve, every single time she saw it. She blinked and forced herself to look away before it blinded her.

“No, of course not,” she said, trying to keep her tone light. “You totally should go. I mean, this is what we’re supposed to be doing, right? Figuring out Yuki?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” he said. The defeat in his voice nearly brought Laurel to tears. “Actually, I thought it would be great if me and Yuki and you and . . . and David . . . could all go together. Maybe finally bridge that gap between you and Yuki. And it’ll be night, so I’d feel better if I could be close to you. In case anything happened.” He smiled sadly. “It’s my job, you know.”

“Yeah, sure,” Laurel said, suddenly desperate to get into her house. “Let’s all talk Monday. Maybe we can bring Chelsea and Ryan too,” she added, tacking on David’s original plan.

“The more the merrier; that’s what you guys say, right?” Tamani said, laughing weakly.

“That’s right,” Laurel said. “Hey, I have to go. My parents don’t even know I’m home yet,” she added with a smile.

“Sure. You better go.”

Laurel nodded and turned, heading back to the porch. She pushed the door open and had just stepped in when Tamani called out again.

“Laurel?”

She caught the door before it closed. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. About . . . when I came over. That thing I did. I was out of line.”

“It’s okay,” Laurel said, swallowing back her emotions. “I learned something about . . . you know. So that was lucky. We’re still friends.” She smiled as best she could. “Have a good night, Tamani.”

“You too.” Tamani smiled back at her. It was not a very convincing smile.

Chapter Fifteen

WITH THAT, LAUREL WENT FROM AVOIDING TAMANI because she was mad at him to avoiding him because talking to him was awkward and confusing. But the plan for the dance was made, and Laurel had a job to do. She stopped by Chelsea’s house the next week, feeling guilty that she hadn’t been making enough time for her best friend lately. She apologized profusely and blamed the SATs.

“So you think you did better?” Chelsea asked brightly.

“I do,” Laurel said, still half in awe at just how much easier the test seemed after studying properly. “And I’m going to do it. I’m going to apply to some colleges.”

“I think it’s really great, Laurel,” Chelsea said, her tone strangely off.

“Really?” Laurel said, prodding a little.

Chelsea looked up at her, a smiled pasted on her face. “I do. David’s totally right about the options thing.”

“Options are good, but it would be easier if I just knew,” Laurel said. “You’ve known exactly what you wanted to do since you were, what, ten?”

Chelsea nodded and then, to Laurel’s surprise, burst into tears.

“Chelsea!” Laurel said, rushing over to the bed and hugging her friend, who was hiding her face in her hands as she gulped for air between sobs. “Chelsea,” Laurel said more gently. “What’s going on?” Empathetic tears sprang to Laurel’s own eyes as Chelsea continued to cry. After several minutes she took a deep breath and laughed as she began to scrub the heels of her hands across her eyes, trying to dry them.

“Sorry,” she said. “It’s stupid.”

“What is?”

Chelsea waved aside Laurel’s concern. “Man, you have so much to deal with right now, you don’t need to hear about my little issues.”

Laurel put both of her hands on Chelsea’s shoulders and waited for her to look up and meet Laurel’s eyes. “If the world was ending tomorrow there would be nothing more important than listening to your problems,” Laurel said, her voice steady and strong. “Tell me.”

Chelsea’s eyes teared up a bit again. She took a deep breath and rubbed at her reddened lids. “Ryan got his SAT scores back a couple weeks ago.”

“Oh no, do they suck?”

Chelsea shook her head. “They’re pretty good, actually. Not as good as mine, but even David’s aren’t quite as high as mine.”

Laurel smiled and rolled her eyes. “Then what’s the problem?”

“I was in his room the other day—he had to go downstairs and talk to his mom—anyway, the printout of his scores was sitting on his desk. And I may have been snooping a little and I looked at his college profile and—” She hesitated. “He didn’t send his scores to Harvard.”

Harvard was Chelsea’s first choice of schools—she’d wanted to go there since she was in grade school. Everyone knew that. Everyone. “Maybe there just weren’t enough slots,” Laurel said, trying to reassure her friend. “The SAT people only do like, four automatically, right?”

“He put down two,” Chelsea said morosely. “UCLA and Berkeley. He didn’t even try and send them to Harvard—I mean, I always knew we might not go to the same school, but he said he’d at least apply!”