The two sat looking at each other for a few seconds before they both started laughing.

“Look at us,” said David. “We’re so pathetic. Our lives revolve around her. I—” He paused and looked down at the floor, obviously a little embarrassed. “I thought I was going to die when she broke up with me.”

Sincerely, Tamani nodded. “I know the feeling.”

“Thing is, even when you were gone, you were never really gone,” David said. “She missed you, all the time. Sometimes I’d catch her staring off into space and ask her what she was thinking about, and she would smile and say ‘nothing,’ but I knew she was thinking about you.” He leaned forward. “When you showed up in September, I think I hated you more at that moment than anything in my whole life.”

“A bit of your own medicine, if you ask me,” Tamani said, trying not to show just how pleased he was. “Laurel carried a picture of you in her pocket—she had it when I saw her in Avalon two summers back. And I hated that even those few times when I had her to myself—completely to myself—you were there too.”

“Do you think she knows we know?”

“If she didn’t before, she does now,” Tamani said, the melancholy slipping in again. “That’s why she’s not with either of us. I’ve wondered if it’s as much to keep the peace between us as to give her the space she needs.” Tamani hesitated then added, “You should go make up with her.”

“Are you serious?”

“I said make up, not get back together,” Tamani said, working to keep the edge from his voice. “She would be happy if the two of you were friends again. I want her to be happy. I’m going out tracking with Shar after school and into the night—I’ll stay away; you go make nice.”

David was silent for a minute. “What do you get out of this?”

“I want you to tell her I sent you.”

“Ah, so Laurel is happy and you get brownie points for making peace.”

“You’re pretty sharp. For a human,” Tamani said, not hiding his grin.

David just shook his head. “You know what I hate almost as much as the thought of losing Laurel to you?” David asked.

“What?” Tamani braced himself for whatever David had to say.

“That this lame-ass work-your-problems-out thing actually worked.”

Tamani chuckled as the final bell rang. “I wouldn’t go that far, mate,” he said. “I still don’t like you.” But he couldn’t help but smile as he said it.

Laurel cautiously opened the front door to find David with a single zinnia in his hand.

“Hi,” he said awkwardly. Then he thrust the flower in her direction. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I was a jerk, and I really let my temper run away with me and it was so completely inappropriate and I would break up with me too.”

Laurel stood there staring at the proffered flower for a long moment before taking it with a sigh. “I’m sorry too,” she said softly.

“You? What do you have to be sorry for?” David asked.

“I should have listened to Chelsea. She told me you were having a hard time with Tamani and I just figured you would get over it. I should have taken her seriously. Taken you seriously. I’m sorry I let it get this far.”

David rubbed at the back of his neck. “It was never that big of a deal. Chelsea lets me vent to her. And that’s what it was, most of the time. Venting.”

“Yeah, but you should have been able to vent to me. I totally cut off any kind of negative talk and I should have asked you how you really felt and then listened. That’s what a good girlfriend does.” Laurel looked down at her feet. “Forget girlfriend, that’s what a good friend does.”

“I don’t think you owe me an apology, but I appreciate it anyway,” David said. “And, well, I hope that we can get past this and put it behind us.” He hesitated. “Together.”

“David,” Laurel said, and she saw from the crestfallen expression on his face that he knew what she was going to say. “I don’t think I’m ready to be ‘us’ again.”

“Are you with Tamani, then?” David asked, eyes downcast.

“I’m not with anyone,” Laurel said, shaking her head. “We’re seventeen, David. I like you, and I like Tamani, and I think maybe I need to stop worrying about ‘forever’ for a little while. I’m having a hard enough time deciding if I’m going to go to college next year, never mind who I should be with for the rest of my life.”

David had a strange look on his face, but Laurel rushed on.

“Between Yuki and Klea and trolls and finals and colleges and—” She groaned. “I just can’t do it right now.”

“It sounds like you need a friend,” David murmured, his eyes fixed on the doormat.

Laurel was surprised by the relief that surged through her. The tears were on her cheeks before she even realized it. “Oh, man,” she said, trying to wipe them away subtly, “I need a friend so badly right now.”

David stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to him, his cheek pressed against the top of her head. Laurel felt every worry of the day seep away as she absorbed the warmth from his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, scared now at how close she had come to losing his friendship. “Thank you,” she whispered.