Wings w-1

by Aprilynne Pike

  “No, David,” she snapped. “It doesn’t. It makes me want to go home and go to sleep and wake up to find that all of this is a dream. That the flower, the bump, even public school never happened. That’s what it makes me want!” She turned without letting him answer and jogged down a random trail. She didn’t care where it led. She just had to get away.

  “What scares you more, Laurel,” David yelled after her, “that he’s right, or that he’s wrong?”

  Laurel ran all the way home and stood panting in her driveway for several minutes before she made her way up the curving walk to her front door. The days were getting shorter, and already the sun was beginning to set. She collapsed onto the front porch with her arms wrapped around her knees. It was that magical time when the clouds were purple, tinged with a fluorescent orange. Laurel loved this time of day. Their new house had a big, west-facing picture window where she and her mother would often watch the clouds flush bright purple, then fade slowly to lilac as the orange of the dying sun overcame them.

  Tonight it held no beauty for her.

  Laurel looked out into her yard at the white dogwoods that lined the front walk. If Tamani could be believed, she had more in common with the trees than with her living, breathing parents waiting just on the other side of the door.

  She looked down at her feet. Without thinking, she had slipped out of her flip-flops and pushed her toes into the crumbly dirt of the front flower beds. She took quick, shallow breaths to stave off her panic as she dusted the dirt from her feet and returned them to her shoes. What if she went into the backyard, buried her feet in the rich dirt, and lifted her arms to the heavens? Would her skin slowly harden into tree bark? Would she bloom with more petals, maybe from her stomach or the top of her head?

  It was a terrifying thought.

  But Tamani had looked normal. If he was really the same as her, did that mean she wouldn’t change? She still wasn’t sure she could trust anything he’d said.

  The front door rattled, and Laurel shot to her feet and turned as her father’s head poked out. “I thought I heard someone,” her dad said with a smile. “What are you doing?”

  Laurel paused, trying to remember what had made her stop and sit in the first place. “I was just watching the sunset,” she said with a forced smile.

  He sighed and leaned against the door frame. “It is beautiful, isn’t it?”

  Laurel nodded and tried to swallow the lump in her throat.

  “You’ve been very quiet the last few weeks, Laurel. Are you all right?” he asked softly.

  “Just stressed about school,” Laurel lied. “It’s harder than I thought.”

  He joined her on the porch step. “Are you handling it okay?”

  “Yeah, it just takes a lot out of me.”

  He smiled and laid his arm across Laurel’s shoulders. Laurel stiffened, but her dad didn’t seem to notice that or the thin petals separated from discovery by a mere millimeter or so of fabric. “Well, we’ve got a lot of peaches to keep your energy up,” he said with a grin.

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Come in when you’re ready,” he said. “It’s almost dinnertime.”

  “Dad?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Was I…different from other kids when I was little?”

  He stopped, saw Laurel’s face, then joined her on the front step again. “What do you mean?”

  She considered confiding in him but quickly changed her mind. She wanted to find out what he knew first. “Like the way I eat. Other kids don’t eat like me. Everyone thinks it’s weird.”

  “It is a little different. But I don’t know anyone who eats more fruits and vegetables than you do. I think that’s healthy. And you haven’t had any problems, have you?”

  Laurel shook her head. “Have I ever been to a doctor?”

  “Sure. When we were finalizing the adoption, a pediatrician came over to the cabin to make sure you were in good health.” He paused. “Actually, this is a funny story. He checked you over and everything looked good.” Her dad laughed. “Except that your knee wouldn’t do that kick thing when he hit it with his little mallet. He was concerned, but I didn’t think it really mattered. Then he pulled out his stethoscope. That’s when things got weird. He kept moving his stethoscope all over your back and chest. I asked him what the problem was, and he told me that I should go get your mom. He wanted to talk to both of us. So I went to get her, and by the time we got back, he was packing his things up. He smiled and said you were in perfect health.”

  “Then what was up?”

  “That’s what I asked him. He said he didn’t know what I was talking about. Let’s just say that didn’t help your mom’s view of doctors. She railed about what a nut he was for weeks.”

  “And you never did find out?”

  Her dad shrugged. “I don’t think there was anything wrong with you. I think his stethoscope was broken, or he used it wrong or something. Then he realized his mistake, didn’t want to look incompetent, and tried to brush it all off. Doctors never like to admit they’re wrong.” He looked over at Laurel. “What is this about? Do you want us to take you to the doctor? We got you exempted from your school physical, but if it would make you feel better, we can take you now.”

  Laurel shook her head. That was the last thing she wanted. “No. I really don’t.”

  “Are you okay?”

  Laurel smiled. “Yeah, I think I am.”

  “You sure?” her dad pressed, his eyes soft but concerned.

  She nodded. “I’m fine.”

  “Good.” He stood and turned the knob on the door. “Oh, by the way, we got the offer from Barnes this morning.”

  “That’s awesome,” Laurel said as she stared out at the darkening horizon. “I hope he buys it fast.” I don’t ever want to go back, she added in her head.

  TEN

  LAUREL WAS SITTING ON DAVID’S PORCH WHEN HE walked out for school the next morning. He stared down at her for a few seconds, then took a deep breath and locked the door.

  “I’m sorry,” Laurel said before David could turn back around. “I had no reason to yell at you. You were so great and tried to help and I slapped you in the face for it.”

  “It’s fine,” David mumbled, pocketing his key.

  “No, it’s not,” Laurel said, falling into step beside him. “I was awful — I yelled at you. I never yell. I’ve just been so stressed.”

  David shrugged. “I kinda deserved it. I pushed too hard. I should have backed off.”

  “But I need that sometimes. I don’t like to face hard things. You’re way better at that than me.”

  “That’s just because it’s not so personal for me. I’m not the one with a blossom.”

  Laurel stopped and grabbed David’s hand to turn him around. When he did, she didn’t let go. It felt nice to have her hand in his. “I can’t do this without a friend. I’m really sorry.”

  David shook his head, then lifted a hand slowly to her face and brushed some hair behind her ear, his thumb lightly caressing her cheek as he did. She held very still, loving the feeling of his hand against her face. “You’re impossible to stay mad at.”

  “Good.” Standing so close, the warmth of his chest almost touching her, she had the sudden urge to kiss him. Without stopping to question it, she shifted her weight to the front of her toes and leaned forward. But a car flew by just at that moment and Laurel lost her nerve. She turned abruptly and started walking. “Don’t want to be late,” she said, laughing tensely.

  David quickly caught up. “So, did you want to talk about it?” he asked.

  “I don’t know what there is to talk about,” Laurel replied.

  “What if he’s right?” David didn’t have to specify who he was.

  Laurel shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense. I admit I’m a little different, and this flower on my back is seriously weird, but to actually be a plant? How could I even be alive?”

  “Well, plant could mean a lot of things. There are plant
s with more capabilities than you could possibly imagine — and those are only the ones scientists have discovered. They suspect there are millions of species in the rain forests that no one has ever been able to study.”

  “Sure, but have you ever seen a plant step out of the dirt and walk up the street?”

  “No.” He shrugged. “But there are a lot of things I’ve never seen before. That doesn’t mean they don’t exist.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m learning that every day.”

  “It doesn’t make sense,” she repeated.

  “I thought about this a lot last night, actually. You know, on the odd chance that you were ever going to talk to me again. There’s actually a fairly easy way to prove or disprove it.”

  “How?”

  “Tissue samples.”

  “What?”

  “You give me various samples of cells from your body and we look at them under my microscope and see if they’re plant or animal cells. That should be pretty conclusive.”

  Laurel wrinkled her nose. “How do I give you tissue samples?”

  “We could get epithelial cells from your cheek like they do on CSI.”

  Laurel laughed. “CSI? You’re going to investigate me now?”

  “Not if you don’t want me to. But I figure you should at least test out what this guy — what was his name?”

  “Tamani.” A small shiver traveled up her spine.

  “Yeah. You should check out what Tamani said and find out if there’s any truth to it.”

  “What if it is true?” Laurel had stopped walking.

  He looked back at her, and her face was etched with fear. “Then you’d know.”

  “But it would mean that my whole life would be this terrible lie. Where would I go? What would I do?”

  “You wouldn’t have to leave. Everything could stay the same.”

  “No, it couldn’t. People would find out and they’d want to…I don’t know, do stuff to me.”

  “No one has to find out. You won’t tell; I won’t tell. You’ll have this amazing secret that sets you apart from everyone else. You would know that you were this…incredible thing, and no one else would ever suspect.”

  Laurel kicked at the asphalt. “You make it sound exciting and glamorous.”

  “Maybe it is.”

  Laurel hesitated, and David stepped a little closer. “It’s your call,” he said softly, “but whatever you decide, I’ll help you.” He placed a soft, warm hand at the back of her neck and Laurel’s breath caught in her chest. “Whatever you need, I’ll be. If you need the science geek to give you answers from a textbook, I’m your guy; if you just want a friend to sit by you in bio and help you feel better when you’re sad, I’m still your guy.” His thumb slowly stroked across her earlobe and down her cheek. “And if you need someone to hold you and protect you from anyone in the world who might want to hurt you, then I am definitely your guy.” His pale-blue eyes bore into hers, and for a second she couldn’t breathe. “But it’s all up to you,” he whispered.

  It was so tempting. Everything about his presence was so comforting. But Laurel knew it wouldn’t be fair. She liked him — a lot — but she wasn’t sure if her feelings were romantic or just needy. And until she was sure, she couldn’t commit to anything. “David, I think you’re right — I should get some answers. But right now all I need, all I can handle, is a friend.”

  David’s smile was a little forced, but he squeezed her shoulder gently and said, “Then that’s what you’ll get.” He turned and started walking again, but he stayed close enough to her side that their shoulders brushed.

  She liked that.

  “These are definitely plant cells, Laurel,” David said, squinting at his microscope.

  “Are you sure?” Laurel asked, taking her turn looking at the cells she had swabbed from the inside of her cheek. But even she recognized the thick-walled, square cells that dotted the brightly lit slide.

  “Ninety-nine percent certain,” David said, stretching his arms above his head. “I think this Tamani guy’s on to something.”

  Laurel sighed and rolled her eyes. “You weren’t there; he was seriously weird.” Yeah, keep telling yourself that; maybe you’ll believe it. She pushed the little voice away.

  “All the more reason for him to be related to you.”

  Laurel scrunched up her eyebrows and kicked David’s chair as he laughed. “I am incredibly offended,” she said, widening her eyes dramatically.

  “Still,” David said, “it looks like he’s right. At least about this.”

  Laurel shook her head. “There’s got to be something else.”

  David paused. “There is one thing, but — no, it’s dumb.”

  “What?”

  David studied her for a minute. “I–I could look at a blood sample.”

  “Oh.” Laurel’s heart sank.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “How would you get the blood?”

  David shrugged. “A finger prick should do it easy.”

  Laurel shook her head. “I can’t do needles. They terrify me.”

  “Really?”

  Laurel nodded, her face pinched. “I’ve never been stuck with a needle.”

  “Never?”

  Laurel shook her head. “No doctors. Remember?”

  “What about shots?”

  “I didn’t have any. My mom had to fill out a special form to get me into school.”

  “No stitches?”

  “Oh, gosh,” she said, covering her mouth. “I don’t even want to think about that.”

  “Okay, forget it then.”

  They sat in silence for quite a while.

  “I wouldn’t have to look?” Laurel asked.

  “I promise. And it doesn’t really hurt.”

  Laurel’s breath caught in her throat, but this seemed important. “Okay. I’ll try.”

  “My mom’s diabetic, so she’s got lancets in her room for testing her blood. That’s probably the easiest way. I’ll be right back.”

  Laurel forced her breathing to even out while David was out of the room. He walked back in, hands empty.

  “Where is it?” she asked.

  “I’m not telling you. I’m not even going to let you see it. Scoot over. I have an idea.” He sat on the bed just in front of her. “Okay, sit behind me and put your arms around my waist. You can keep your head down against my back and squeeze me if you get scared.”

  Laurel scooted behind him. She pressed her face against his back and squeezed his waist as hard as she could.

  “I do need one hand,” David said, his voice a little strained.

  Laurel forced herself to loosen her hold and relinquished one hand. David rubbed her palm softly as she started to squeeze him again. “Ready?” he asked.

  “Surprise me,” she said, her voice breathless.

  He rubbed her hand a little longer, then she let out a squeak as a sensation like a static shock erupted on her finger. “Okay, it’s over,” David said calmly.

  “Did you put it away?” Laurel asked without lifting her head.

  “Yeah,” David said, his voice strangely flat. “Laurel, you need to see this.”

  Curiosity helped dissipate her fear as Laurel peeked over David’s shoulder. “What?”

  David was gently applying pressure to the end of her middle finger. A bead of clear liquid pooled out.

  “What is that?” Laurel asked.

  “I’m more concerned with what it’s not,” David replied. “It’s not red.”

  Laurel just stared.

  “Um, can I…?” David gestured at the box of slides.

  “Of course,” Laurel said numbly.

  David took a thin glass slide and dabbed Laurel’s finger against it. “Can I get a couple?”

  Laurel just nodded.

  Three slides later, David wrapped Laurel’s finger in a tissue and Laurel tucked her hands into her lap.

  David sat beside her, his thigh touching hers. “Laurel, is this what always comes out wh
en you cut yourself?”

  “I haven’t cut myself in ages.”

  “You have at least had a scraped knee at some point, haven’t you?”

  “I’m sure I have, but…” Her voice trailed off as she realized she couldn’t pinpoint a single instance. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I can’t remember.”

  David ran his fingers through his hair. “Laurel, have you ever bled…from anywhere in your whole life?”

  She hated everything he was implying, but she couldn’t deny the truth. “I don’t know. I honestly can’t remember ever bleeding.”

  David slid his chair back over to the microscope and put the new slide under the lighted scope, then studied it through the lens for a long time. He switched the slides and looked again. Then he pulled out a few red-stained slides from another box and worked them into the rotation.

  Laurel didn’t move the whole time.

  He turned to her. “Laurel,” he said, “what if you don’t have blood? What if this clear fluid is all that flows through your veins?”

  Laurel shook her head. “That’s not possible. Everybody has blood, David.”

  “Everybody’s epithelia are animal cells as well, Laurel — but not yours,” he responded. “You said your parents don’t believe in doctors. Have you ever been to see one?”

  “When I was really little. My dad told me about it the other night.” Her eyes widened. “Oh, my gosh.” She related the story to David. “He knew, he must have.”

  “Why wouldn’t he tell your parents?”

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head.

  David was quiet, his brow knitted. When he spoke, it was hesitantly. “Do you mind if I try something?”

  “As long as it doesn’t include cutting me open to look at my guts.”

  He laughed.

  Laurel didn’t.

  “Can I take your pulse?”

  Laurel was caught off-guard by the wave of relief and humor that washed over her. She started to laugh and couldn’t stop. David looked at her silently while she laughed out her hysteria, until she finally got herself back under control. “Sorry,” she said, breathing heavily as she warded off yet another wave of giggles. “It’s just…this is so much better than cutting me open.”