“They make really great fruit smoothies. Nothing but frozen fruit and fruit juice.” Laurel wondered if describing the smoothies in detail was too weird. “They’re so good! You should come.”
“Um.” Yuki hesitated and Laurel could tell she was looking for a way to say no.
“I’ll drive,” Laurel said helpfully.
“Yeah, okay, I guess,” Yuki said, mustering a smile that didn’t look entirely fake. Laurel could only imagine how lonely it must be for Yuki, staying here all by herself. Laurel had seen her talking to a lot of different people in the hallways at school, but Aaron assured Laurel that no one ever came to Yuki’s house.
“My treat,” Laurel said, stretching her arm out toward her car.
Yuki stayed quiet on the drive over as Laurel and Chelsea tried to keep the conversation going, talking about the psychology class they had together—which proved duller than actually sitting through the class. At least once they got to Vera’s they would have food to put in their mouths to excuse the silence.
After everyone selected a dessert, they sat outside at a table with an umbrella that did nothing to block the setting sun—just the way Laurel liked it.
“This is really good,” Yuki finally said, with a hint of a smile.
“I thought you’d like it,” Laurel said, scooping up a small spoonful of her mango-strawberry slush.
“So,” Chelsea said, obviously trying to be conversational, “what’s school like in Japan?”
Yuki looked suddenly bored. “Pretty much like here, but with uniforms.”
“I hear you guys have cram schools and super-long hours and stuff. Your friend, um, June? He’s really smart.”
“Jun,” Yuki corrected, softening the “J” and making Chelsea blush. “I don’t really know him. And I never went to juku. A lot of us never do.”
“Tell us about you, then,” Laurel interjected.
Yuki shrugged, glancing away. “Not much to tell. I like to read, I drink way too much green tea, I do ikebana, and I listen to music from the seventies that no one has ever heard of.”
Laurel laughed. She and Chelsea both knew there was so much more to Yuki than that, and Yuki knew it too. But Yuki didn’t know how much Laurel knew, and she didn’t know that Chelsea knew anything at all. It was like a supernatural “Who’s on First?”
“What’s ikebana?” Chelsea asked, pronouncing each syllable carefully.
“Flower arrangement. Artistic. You’d probably find it dull.”
Flower arranging? Laurel thought, sitting up straight. She wondered if that could possibly be a euphemism for some kind of faerie magic—but it could just as easily have been a sign that Yuki was as drawn to nature as any other faerie.
“No, it sounds interesting,” Chelsea said, but it was clear that she had no idea what to say next.
All three busied themselves with their food.
“Oh, hey,” Laurel started. It was now or never. “Tama . . . uh . . . said you asked him to the Sadie Hawkins? Or Autumn Hop? Whatever they decided to call it.” The posters going up around campus were confusing, to say the least. Laurel got the impression that someone in student government had looked up Sadie Hawkins on Wikipedia after half the posters were printed.
Yuki nodded. “I did. How do you know Tam?” she asked, gazing intently at Laurel.
“He, um, sits near me in Government,” Laurel said. “I was telling him how Chelsea and I usually double to stuff like this, and he seemed pretty interested. Maybe we could all go together?”
“Absolutely,” Chelsea said, a touch of sarcasm in her voice that Laurel hoped Yuki didn’t catch. “I think that would be fascinating.”
Fascinating? “Great. It’s a date, then!” Laurel said. “If that’s okay with you, I mean,” Laurel added, turning her attention back to Yuki.
“Sure,” Yuki said, smiling at Chelsea now. She sounded totally sincere. Enough that it pricked at Laurel’s conscience. “I think it would be fun to do a group thing. Less pressure, you know. I mean, I don’t even really know Tam very well yet so . . . yeah.” Her voice trailed away.
With a pointed glance in Laurel’s direction, Chelsea picked up her spoon, licked it, and said, “Well, I think he’s hot.”
Both faeries looked studiously away.
“Okay, seriously, what was that?” Laurel said, after dropping Yuki off following the rather painfully awkward half hour they’d all just spent together.
“What?”
“The ‘Tamani is hot’ thing?”
Chelsea shrugged. “He is.”
“The last thing I want to talk to Yuki about is Tamani.”
“Why?” Chelsea asked, smirking.
“Because she’s a faerie and I don’t want her getting suspicious,” Laurel said, almost nonchalantly.
“Suuure,” Chelsea drawled. “What is up with you and Tam, anyway?”
“Please don’t call him that,” Laurel snapped, knowing it was completely unwarranted. “His name is Tamani, and I know you have to call him Tam at school, but could you please use his whole name when it’s just us?”
Chelsea sat silently, looking at Laurel.
“What?” Laurel finally asked, exasperated.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Chelsea said seriously. “What is up with you and Tamani?” she said, stressing his full name.
“Um.” Yuki hesitated and Laurel could tell she was looking for a way to say no.
“I’ll drive,” Laurel said helpfully.
“Yeah, okay, I guess,” Yuki said, mustering a smile that didn’t look entirely fake. Laurel could only imagine how lonely it must be for Yuki, staying here all by herself. Laurel had seen her talking to a lot of different people in the hallways at school, but Aaron assured Laurel that no one ever came to Yuki’s house.
“My treat,” Laurel said, stretching her arm out toward her car.
Yuki stayed quiet on the drive over as Laurel and Chelsea tried to keep the conversation going, talking about the psychology class they had together—which proved duller than actually sitting through the class. At least once they got to Vera’s they would have food to put in their mouths to excuse the silence.
After everyone selected a dessert, they sat outside at a table with an umbrella that did nothing to block the setting sun—just the way Laurel liked it.
“This is really good,” Yuki finally said, with a hint of a smile.
“I thought you’d like it,” Laurel said, scooping up a small spoonful of her mango-strawberry slush.
“So,” Chelsea said, obviously trying to be conversational, “what’s school like in Japan?”
Yuki looked suddenly bored. “Pretty much like here, but with uniforms.”
“I hear you guys have cram schools and super-long hours and stuff. Your friend, um, June? He’s really smart.”
“Jun,” Yuki corrected, softening the “J” and making Chelsea blush. “I don’t really know him. And I never went to juku. A lot of us never do.”
“Tell us about you, then,” Laurel interjected.
Yuki shrugged, glancing away. “Not much to tell. I like to read, I drink way too much green tea, I do ikebana, and I listen to music from the seventies that no one has ever heard of.”
Laurel laughed. She and Chelsea both knew there was so much more to Yuki than that, and Yuki knew it too. But Yuki didn’t know how much Laurel knew, and she didn’t know that Chelsea knew anything at all. It was like a supernatural “Who’s on First?”
“What’s ikebana?” Chelsea asked, pronouncing each syllable carefully.
“Flower arrangement. Artistic. You’d probably find it dull.”
Flower arranging? Laurel thought, sitting up straight. She wondered if that could possibly be a euphemism for some kind of faerie magic—but it could just as easily have been a sign that Yuki was as drawn to nature as any other faerie.
“No, it sounds interesting,” Chelsea said, but it was clear that she had no idea what to say next.
All three busied themselves with their food.
“Oh, hey,” Laurel started. It was now or never. “Tama . . . uh . . . said you asked him to the Sadie Hawkins? Or Autumn Hop? Whatever they decided to call it.” The posters going up around campus were confusing, to say the least. Laurel got the impression that someone in student government had looked up Sadie Hawkins on Wikipedia after half the posters were printed.
Yuki nodded. “I did. How do you know Tam?” she asked, gazing intently at Laurel.
“He, um, sits near me in Government,” Laurel said. “I was telling him how Chelsea and I usually double to stuff like this, and he seemed pretty interested. Maybe we could all go together?”
“Absolutely,” Chelsea said, a touch of sarcasm in her voice that Laurel hoped Yuki didn’t catch. “I think that would be fascinating.”
Fascinating? “Great. It’s a date, then!” Laurel said. “If that’s okay with you, I mean,” Laurel added, turning her attention back to Yuki.
“Sure,” Yuki said, smiling at Chelsea now. She sounded totally sincere. Enough that it pricked at Laurel’s conscience. “I think it would be fun to do a group thing. Less pressure, you know. I mean, I don’t even really know Tam very well yet so . . . yeah.” Her voice trailed away.
With a pointed glance in Laurel’s direction, Chelsea picked up her spoon, licked it, and said, “Well, I think he’s hot.”
Both faeries looked studiously away.
“Okay, seriously, what was that?” Laurel said, after dropping Yuki off following the rather painfully awkward half hour they’d all just spent together.
“What?”
“The ‘Tamani is hot’ thing?”
Chelsea shrugged. “He is.”
“The last thing I want to talk to Yuki about is Tamani.”
“Why?” Chelsea asked, smirking.
“Because she’s a faerie and I don’t want her getting suspicious,” Laurel said, almost nonchalantly.
“Suuure,” Chelsea drawled. “What is up with you and Tam, anyway?”
“Please don’t call him that,” Laurel snapped, knowing it was completely unwarranted. “His name is Tamani, and I know you have to call him Tam at school, but could you please use his whole name when it’s just us?”
Chelsea sat silently, looking at Laurel.
“What?” Laurel finally asked, exasperated.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Chelsea said seriously. “What is up with you and Tamani?” she said, stressing his full name.
