“Oops,” Yuki said coyly. “It just . . . happened.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
“ARE YOU OKAY?” CHELSEA JOINED LAUREL ON the floor, where she was slumped with her back against her locker, wracking her brain for some way to use the final sample. She’d decided to suspend one of the samples in wax yesterday and turn it into a candle to see what happened when she burned it. She had only succeeded in filling her room with a foul-smelling smoke that lingered in her curtains and bedding even after she’d left the windows open all night.
Which had made for a frigid night. Winter was still technically a week away, but a wet chill had descended on Crescent City and Laurel hadn’t managed to really warm up all day.
“I’m fine,” Laurel said, looking over at her friend. “Just a little tired. And I have a headache.” After several headache-free weeks, they had come back with a vengeance after Thanksgiving break. She hadn’t experienced stress headaches like this since last year, when things had gotten sticky with the trolls.
“Do you need to go outside for lunch?” Chelsea asked.
“It’s raining pretty hard. I don’t really feel like it.” She shrugged. “I should probably just eat something.” She always got a little run-down toward the end of the semester, but dealing with David, Tamani, and Yuki was twice as exhausting as fighting trolls, which—as it was practically a holiday tradition now—might have been preferable.
But Shar wasn’t going to let that happen. No matter how many times she or Tamani suggested they just raid the cabin and be done with it, Shar refused. After three weeks it seemed like a lost cause to Laurel, but Shar insisted it was too dangerous to barge in without knowing more, and would destroy their chance to learn something new besides. So they continued to watch and wait and wind tighter with every passing day.
Laurel tried to shake her gloomy thoughts away and smiled at her friend. “I’ll be fine. It’s just the end of the semester.”
“Yeah, finals. I totally get it.” Chelsea sighed. “I should just give up. I mean, unless David crashes and burns this semester there’s no way I can beat his GPA.” She laughed. “Of course, if I do slack off, this will be the one semester he does crash and burn, and then I’ll know that I could have beaten him, but I was lazy. So, it’s studyville for me,” she said, giving Laurel a sarcastic thumbs-up.
Laurel smiled and shook her head. She was proud of her good grades, but David and Chelsea took it to a whole different level.
The hallways were emptying out. Laurel thought about heading for the cafeteria, but she didn’t want to stand up. She wasn’t normally one for naps, but now seemed like a great time to make an exception.
“Can I ask you a really weird question?”
Laurel stared at her. “You just did. At least for you.”
Chelsea chuckled nervously. “I just . . . I just wondered. You’ve been broken up with David for a while now. Are you guys done for good?”
Laurel studied the floor. “I don’t know.”
“Still?”
Laurel shrugged.
“So, if—hypothetically—I were to ask him to the winter formal next week, would that be a problem?”
Laurel gaped at Chelsea as a strange feeling settled in her stomach. “Did you break up with Ryan?”
Chelsea rolled her eyes. “No, no. Thus the hypothetical part.”
“That’s a pretty extreme hypothetical,” Laurel said. Her mind was racing. It wasn’t that she actually expected Chelsea to ask David. But . . . what if she did?
Chelsea shrugged.
“I—I . . .” Laurel couldn’t even think of anything to say. The idea that David would go to any kind of formal dance with anyone but her was beyond comprehension. Laurel and David hadn’t missed a formal dance since sophomore year.
“Forget it,” Chelsea said. “I can see it bothers you. I’m sorry I said anything. Please don’t be mad.”
“No,” Laurel said, climbing to her feet and extending a hand to help Chelsea up. “It’s okay. I’m glad you said something. Really. Are things that bad between you and Ryan? You haven’t said anything about his scores in a while. I figured that got sorted out.”
“More like swept under the rug,” Chelsea said, shrugging. “Anyway, let’s go get some food in you.”
But suddenly food wasn’t even on the list of things Laurel was thinking about. With the mystery of the trolls’ cabin, the unsolved puzzle of the blue powder, and Yuki’s constant presence, Laurel hadn’t had the time—much less the energy—to think about something like the winter formal. But now that Chelsea had brought it up, it somehow took priority. Laurel wasn’t sure exactly what she was going to do, but her mind was screaming at her to do something.
The noise of the cafeteria assaulted her ears as she studied the tops of the students’ heads, looking for David. He was pretty easy to spot, sitting beside Ryan, the two of them head and shoulders above most of the other kids around them. Chelsea got in the hot lunch line while Laurel strode over and tapped David on the shoulder.
“Hey!” he said, turning to her with a grin. So friendly. David was a model of platonic affection—except for the longing in his eyes. She wasn’t sure she wanted to lose that. Ever.
“Can I talk to you? Somewhere quieter?” she asked.
“Sure,” he said, getting up a little too quickly.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“ARE YOU OKAY?” CHELSEA JOINED LAUREL ON the floor, where she was slumped with her back against her locker, wracking her brain for some way to use the final sample. She’d decided to suspend one of the samples in wax yesterday and turn it into a candle to see what happened when she burned it. She had only succeeded in filling her room with a foul-smelling smoke that lingered in her curtains and bedding even after she’d left the windows open all night.
Which had made for a frigid night. Winter was still technically a week away, but a wet chill had descended on Crescent City and Laurel hadn’t managed to really warm up all day.
“I’m fine,” Laurel said, looking over at her friend. “Just a little tired. And I have a headache.” After several headache-free weeks, they had come back with a vengeance after Thanksgiving break. She hadn’t experienced stress headaches like this since last year, when things had gotten sticky with the trolls.
“Do you need to go outside for lunch?” Chelsea asked.
“It’s raining pretty hard. I don’t really feel like it.” She shrugged. “I should probably just eat something.” She always got a little run-down toward the end of the semester, but dealing with David, Tamani, and Yuki was twice as exhausting as fighting trolls, which—as it was practically a holiday tradition now—might have been preferable.
But Shar wasn’t going to let that happen. No matter how many times she or Tamani suggested they just raid the cabin and be done with it, Shar refused. After three weeks it seemed like a lost cause to Laurel, but Shar insisted it was too dangerous to barge in without knowing more, and would destroy their chance to learn something new besides. So they continued to watch and wait and wind tighter with every passing day.
Laurel tried to shake her gloomy thoughts away and smiled at her friend. “I’ll be fine. It’s just the end of the semester.”
“Yeah, finals. I totally get it.” Chelsea sighed. “I should just give up. I mean, unless David crashes and burns this semester there’s no way I can beat his GPA.” She laughed. “Of course, if I do slack off, this will be the one semester he does crash and burn, and then I’ll know that I could have beaten him, but I was lazy. So, it’s studyville for me,” she said, giving Laurel a sarcastic thumbs-up.
Laurel smiled and shook her head. She was proud of her good grades, but David and Chelsea took it to a whole different level.
The hallways were emptying out. Laurel thought about heading for the cafeteria, but she didn’t want to stand up. She wasn’t normally one for naps, but now seemed like a great time to make an exception.
“Can I ask you a really weird question?”
Laurel stared at her. “You just did. At least for you.”
Chelsea chuckled nervously. “I just . . . I just wondered. You’ve been broken up with David for a while now. Are you guys done for good?”
Laurel studied the floor. “I don’t know.”
“Still?”
Laurel shrugged.
“So, if—hypothetically—I were to ask him to the winter formal next week, would that be a problem?”
Laurel gaped at Chelsea as a strange feeling settled in her stomach. “Did you break up with Ryan?”
Chelsea rolled her eyes. “No, no. Thus the hypothetical part.”
“That’s a pretty extreme hypothetical,” Laurel said. Her mind was racing. It wasn’t that she actually expected Chelsea to ask David. But . . . what if she did?
Chelsea shrugged.
“I—I . . .” Laurel couldn’t even think of anything to say. The idea that David would go to any kind of formal dance with anyone but her was beyond comprehension. Laurel and David hadn’t missed a formal dance since sophomore year.
“Forget it,” Chelsea said. “I can see it bothers you. I’m sorry I said anything. Please don’t be mad.”
“No,” Laurel said, climbing to her feet and extending a hand to help Chelsea up. “It’s okay. I’m glad you said something. Really. Are things that bad between you and Ryan? You haven’t said anything about his scores in a while. I figured that got sorted out.”
“More like swept under the rug,” Chelsea said, shrugging. “Anyway, let’s go get some food in you.”
But suddenly food wasn’t even on the list of things Laurel was thinking about. With the mystery of the trolls’ cabin, the unsolved puzzle of the blue powder, and Yuki’s constant presence, Laurel hadn’t had the time—much less the energy—to think about something like the winter formal. But now that Chelsea had brought it up, it somehow took priority. Laurel wasn’t sure exactly what she was going to do, but her mind was screaming at her to do something.
The noise of the cafeteria assaulted her ears as she studied the tops of the students’ heads, looking for David. He was pretty easy to spot, sitting beside Ryan, the two of them head and shoulders above most of the other kids around them. Chelsea got in the hot lunch line while Laurel strode over and tapped David on the shoulder.
“Hey!” he said, turning to her with a grin. So friendly. David was a model of platonic affection—except for the longing in his eyes. She wasn’t sure she wanted to lose that. Ever.
“Can I talk to you? Somewhere quieter?” she asked.
“Sure,” he said, getting up a little too quickly.
