Эприлинн Пайк: Illusions

“It is good to see him,” Laurel said softly, leaning forward to wrap both arms around David’s waist, “but I’m also scared of what it means. For us. Not us ,” Laurel corrected, fighting the unfamiliar awkwardness that seemed to be worming its way between them. “But it has to mean we’re in danger, right?”

David nodded. “I’m trying not to think about that. He’ll tell us eventually, right?”

Laurel looked up with one eyebrow cocked and after a moment they both burst out laughing.

“I guess we can’t count on it, can we?” David took her right hand in his, pressing it to his lips and examining the silver-and-crystal bracelet he had given her almost two years ago, when they first got together. “I’m glad you still wear this.”

“Every day,” Laurel said. Wishing they had more time to talk, she pulled David close for one last kiss before hurrying into her Government class and grabbing the last seat next to the wall full of windows. Small windows, but she would take whatever natural sunlight she could get.

Her mind wandered as Mrs. Harms handed out the syllabus and talked about class requirements; it was easy to tune her out, especially in light of Tamani’s sudden reappearance. Why was he here? If she was in some kind of danger, what could it be? She hadn’t seen a single troll since leaving Barnes at the lighthouse. Could this have something to do with Klea, the mysterious troll hunter who killed him? No one had seen her lately, either; as far as Laurel could tell, Klea had moved on to other hunting grounds. Maybe this was some other crisis entirely?

Regardless, David was right — Laurel was happy to see Tamani. More than happy. She felt somehow comforted by his presence. And he had winked at her! As if the last eight months had never happened. As if he had never walked away. As if she had never come to tell him good-bye. Her thoughts drifted to the brief moments spent in his arms, the soft feel of his lips on hers in those few times when self-control had slipped through her fingers. The memories were so vivid that Laurel found herself lightly touching her mouth.

The classroom door swung open suddenly, startling Laurel from her thoughts. Mr. Robison entered, Tamani following close behind.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Mr. Robison said. “Boys and girls?” Laurel hated how adults could combine two perfectly serviceable words into such a condescending phrase. “You might have heard that we have some foreign exchange students from Japan this year. Tam”—Laurel blanched at the counselor’s use of her pet name for Tamani—“isn’t technically in the foreign exchange program, but he just moved here from Scotland. I hope you will treat him with the same courtesy you have always shown our other exchange guests. Tam? Why don’t you tell us a little about yourself.”

Mr. Robison clapped one hand against Tamani’s shoulder. Tamani’s eyes darted briefly to the school counselor and Laurel could only imagine how Tamani would have preferred to respond. But irritation showed on his face for less than a second, and Laurel doubted anyone else noticed. He grinned lopsidedly and shrugged. “I’m Tam Collins.”

Half the girls in the class sighed softly at Tamani’s lilting brogue.

“I’m from Scotland. A little outside of Perth — not the Australia one — and…” He paused, as if searching for anything else about himself that the students might find interesting.

Laurel could think of a few things.

“I live with my uncle. Have since I was a kid.” He turned and smiled at the teacher. “And I know nothing about Government,” he said, laughter in his voice. “Not this one, anyway.”

The entire classroom was won over. The guys were nodding their heads a little, the girls were twittering, and even Mrs. Harms was smiling. And he wasn’t even Enticing them. Laurel almost groaned aloud at the trouble that could lead to.

“Well, pick a seat, then,” Mrs. Harms said, handing Tamani a textbook. “We’ve only just gotten started.”

There were three empty seats in the classroom and almost everyone near them launched into a silent campaign for Tamani’s favor. Nadia, one of the prettier girls in the class, was the boldest. She uncrossed and recrossed her legs, tossed her wavy brown hair over her shoulder, and leaned forward to not-so-subtly pat the backrest in front of her. Tamani grinned, almost apologetically, and continued past her to claim a seat in front of a girl who had scarcely looked up from her book since he’d walked into the classroom.

The seat beside Laurel.

As Mrs. Harms droned on about daily reading assignments, Laurel sat back and stared at Tamani. She didn’t bother to hide it; just about every other girl in the classroom was doing the exact same thing. It was maddening to silently sit just two feet away while a million questions whizzed through her mind. Some were rational. Many were not.

Laurel’s head was spinning by the time the bell rang. This was her chance. She wanted to do so many things: yell at him, slap him, kiss him, grab his shoulders and shake him. But more than anything else, she wanted to wrap her arms around him — to hold herself to his chest and confess how much she’d missed him. She could do that with a friend, couldn’t she?

But then, wasn’t that why she’d gotten angry enough to send him away in the first place? For Tamani, it was never just a friendly hug. He always wanted more. And as flattering as his persistence — and passion — could be, the way he treated David as an enemy to be crushed was less endearing. It had broken her heart to send Tamani away, and Laurel wasn’t sure she could go through that again.

She stood slowly and looked at him, her lips suddenly dry. As soon as his backpack was slung over one strong shoulder, he turned and met her eyes. Laurel opened her mouth to say something when he grinned and reached out his hand.

“Hey there,” he said, almost too brightly. “Looks like we’ll be desk-mates. Wanted to introduce myself — I’m Tam.”

Their clasped hands were moving up and down, but it was all Tamani’s doing; Laurel’s arm had gone limp. She stood silently for several seconds until Tamani’s meaningful look intensified and became almost a glare. “Oh!” she said belatedly. “I’m Laurel. Laurel Sewell. Pleasure.” Pleasure? Since when did she say “Pleasure”? And why was he shaking her hand like a stodgy salesperson?

Tamani pulled a class schedule from his back pocket. “I have English next, with Mrs. Cain. Would you mind showing me where the classroom is?”

Was the feeling that rushed over her relief that they didn’t share their second-hour class, or disappointment? “Sure,” she said cheerily. “It’s just down the hall.” Laurel gathered her things slowly, stalling while the classroom emptied. Then she leaned close to Tamani. “What are you doing here?”

“Are you glad to see me?”

She nodded, letting herself smile.

He grinned back, unconcealed relief brightening his expression. It made Laurel feel on more even ground to know he had been unsure too.

“Why—”

Tamani shook his head slightly and gestured toward the hall. When she was almost at the door, Tamani took hold of her elbow and stopped her. “Meet me in the woods behind your house after school?” he asked softly. “I’ll explain everything.” He paused, and with an unnatural quickness he lifted one hand to stroke her cheek. The feeling scarcely had time to register before his hands were back in his pockets and he was strolling out the door.

“Tama — Tam?” she called, trotting to catch up with him. “I’ll show you where to go.”

He grinned and laughed. “Come now,” he said almost too quietly for her to hear. “How unprepared do you think I am? I know this school better than you do.” And with a wink, he was gone.