“Ah, come on — everyone wonders.”
“Do not!”
“Sure. I’ve always wondered what kind of a kisser David is.”
“Um, that’s one of those questions you’re not supposed to ask.”
Chelsea laughed. “I didn’t ask. I just said I’ve always wondered.”
“That’s asking.”
“Is not.” She leaned back against her headboard. “’Course, you could tell me anyway.”
“Chelsea!”
“What? I told you.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“Technicality.”
“I’m not telling.”
“That’s code for he sucks.”
“He does not suck.”
“Aha!”
Laurel sighed. “You are so weird.”
“Yeah,” Chelsea said with a grin, tossing her springy curls. “But you love me.”
Laurel laughed. “Yes, I do.” She leaned over and tipped her head onto Chelsea’s shoulder. “And I’m glad you’re happy.”
“I’d be happier if you told me what David’s like in bed.”
Laurel looked incredulously at Chelsea, then hit her with a pillow.
LAUREL SAT CROSS-LEGGED IN HER ROOM, SORTING through school supplies and packing her backpack. David, who had been ready to go back to school for a week now — probably a month, Laurel just didn’t have proof — was sprawled out on her bed, watching her. She pulled a four-pack of multicolored highlighters out of her shopping bag and took a moment to hug them to her chest. “Oh, highlighters,” she crooned melodramatically, “how I missed you!”
David laughed. “You can take them with you next year.”
“Wow. Next year. At the moment I can’t even imagine working that hard again.” She looked up at him. “Wasn’t this supposed to be summer vacation?”
David reached down and wrapped his arms around her chest, lifting her up onto the bed beside him as she laughed. “Didn’t feel like much of a vacation for me, either, with you gone the whole time,” he said, leaning back against her pillows.
Laurel curled up against his chest. “And now it’s over,” she lamented.
“Day’s not finished yet,” David whispered, his breath tickling her ear.
“Well,” Laurel said, holding her face straight, “my parents do tell me to make the most of every day.”
“I’m quite in agreement with that,” David said mockingly, but with a hint of growl in his voice. His fingertips pressed against her back as he softly kissed her shoulder, bare beneath the strap of her tank top. Laurel’s arms twined around his neck and she ran her fingers through his hair. It was one of her favorite things to do. The silky curls would catch just a little on her fingertips, then slide through as she pulled a bit harder.
David’s breath sounded in the back of his throat as his lips found hers and Laurel let herself slip into the pleasant satisfaction she always felt in David’s arms. She smiled as he pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. “How did I ever get so lucky?” he asked quietly, his hand resting along her ribs.
“Luck had nothing to do with it,” Laurel replied, leaning closer and kissing him gently. Once, twice, and the third time she pulled him in harder, enjoying the feel of his mouth against hers. Her hand wandered under his shirt, feeling his rapid breath expand his ribs. She hesitated for a second — wondering what the chances were that either of her parents would come home early — then lifted his shirt with both hands, guiding it up his arms and over his head. It was her favorite indulgence; holding herself against his bare chest. He was always so warm — even in the summer, when her body temperature was almost as high as his. She loved to feel the heat spread into her from everywhere that touched him, slowly seeping through her until her whole body was pleasantly warmed, her foot lazily looped over his leg.
Her eyes were closed, waiting for his next kiss, and after a few seconds, she opened them. David was staring down at her, a half smile on his face, but his eyes were serious. “I love you,” he said.
She smiled, loving hearing those words. Every time he said it, it sounded like the first time.
“Hey, Miss Fae.”
Laurel grinned as she walked down the stairs. Her dad had started calling her that after he had come home from the hospital. They’d always been close, but after almost losing him last year, it felt like every minute counted double. And even though his insatiable curiosity about all things faerie drove her up the wall sometimes, she loved how easily he accepted her for what she was.
“How was the first day of school?”
Laurel wandered over to the couch by way of the fridge, where she grabbed herself a Sprite. “It was okay. Better than last year. And I think I’m more prepared for chemistry than I was for biology.”
“Sounds like an overall improvement,” he said, looking up from his book.
“What are you reading?” she asked, glancing at the dog-eared paperback.
He looked a little chagrined. “Stardust.”
“Again?”
He shrugged. Fantasy novels — especially ones involving faeries — had risen to the top of her dad’s reading list, with Neil Gaiman’s faerie tale numbering among his very favorites.
“Where’s Mom?” Laurel asked, though she could guess at the answer.
“Taking inventory,” came the expected reply. “She’s got to get her order in tomorrow.”
“I figured,” Laurel said.
Her dad looked up into her somber face and put his book down. “You okay?”
She shrugged. Her dad sat up a little and patted the spot beside him. Laurel sighed and joined him on the couch, leaning her head against his shoulder.
“What’s the matter?”
“I don’t know. It’s just…it’s kind of weird to suddenly have you around more than Mom. She’s at the store all the time.”
His arm tightened around her. “She’s just busy right now. Starting up a store takes a lot of work. You remember last summer when I was getting the bookstore going. I was never home.” He chuckled. “In fact, if I had been home more, I like to think I would have figured things out.” He paused and squeezed Laurel’s shoulders again. “You have to understand, when I…got sick, your mom felt completely helpless. We had almost no insurance, the hospital bills were piling up, and if anything had happened she would have had no way to support you. She’s never quite gotten the knack of running my store. She might have been able to make ends meet, but only just. She’s afraid to ever get into that position again, and let’s face it — we’re not young.” He turned to face her. “She’s doing this for you. So she can support you if anything ever happened again.”
Laurel rubbed her toe along the couch cushion. “But sometimes I think…” She paused, then hurried on in a rush of breath before she could change her mind. “She hates that I’m a faerie.”
Her dad scooted up a little. “What do you mean?”
After the first sentence, the rest tumbled out. “Everything started to change when she found out. She acts like she doesn’t know me anymore — like I’m a stranger living in her house. We don’t talk. We used to talk all the time, about everything. And now I feel like she avoids my eyes and leaves the room when I come in.”
“Sweetie, you need to give her a little time to get the store open. I really think—”
“It was before the store,” Laurel interrupted, shaking her head. “She doesn’t like to hear anything about me not being normal. When I got the invitation to go to Avalon I was so excited — the chance of a lifetime. And she almost didn’t let me go!”
“In all fairness, that was because of the ‘gone for two months with complete strangers’ thing, not necessarily the faerie thing.”