“You really think you can compete?”
But Chelsea’s curiosity was almost as infamous as her honesty and she leaned forward so she could see Yuki again. “Compete with who?”
“Laurel, of course. Fact of the matter is, she doesn’t have to choose David – which she will,” Yuki added, doubtless for Tamani’s benefit. “But even if she doesn’t, you still lose. Let’s say everything happens like you dream. Laurel leaves David behind, and one day he turns around and realises, for the first time ever, that you’ve been standing there the whole time, just waiting to be noticed.”
Chelsea’s face flushed red, but her eyes never left Yuki’s.
“Suddenly you’re everything he never knew he always wanted. He adores you and – unlike your flaky boyfriend – is willing to go to college anywhere you want.”
“Who told y—”
“You go to Harvard, you move in together, maybe you even get married. But,” she said, leaning forward as far as she could, “Laurel will always be there in the back of his mind. All the adventures they had, the plans they made. She’s prettier than you, more magical than you, just plain better than you. Face it, you have no hope of ever being anything but a rebound. And you’ll have to live your life knowing that if it had been up to David, he would never have even gotten a chance to be with you. Laurel wins.”
Chelsea’s breathing was ragged. She stood, avoiding Tamani’s eyes. “I . . . I think I need some water.”
Tamani watched her disappear into the kitchen, just out of sight. He heard the tap start to run – and run. And run some more, much longer than necessary to fill a cup. After a full minute he stood and shot a glare at Yuki, who looked smug.
Shar lifted his head at the sound of Tamani’s footsteps. But Tamani waved a be right back sign at him.
Keeping Yuki in the corner of his eye, Tamani followed Chelsea to the kitchen, where she stood, facing away from him, arms braced on the sink. There was no cup in sight.
“You all right?” Tamani asked quietly, his voice just louder than the hiss of the tap.
Chelsea’s head jerked up. “Yeah, I . . .” She gestured aimlessly. “I couldn’t find a glass.”
Tamani opened a cupboard right in front of her and retrieved one, handing it to her wordlessly. She filled it under the flowing water and started to reach for the tap to turn it off, but Tamani stopped her. “Leave it on. Less likely she can hear us.”
Chelsea looked down at the running water – probably fighting the urge to not waste it – then nodded and withdrew her hand. Tamani stepped a little closer, half an eye still on Yuki’s blossom, barely visible around the corner.
“She’s wrong,” he said simply. “She makes everything she says sound true, but it’s twisted until it’s not really truth at all.”
“No, it’s absolutely true,” Chelsea said with surprising confidence. “Laurel is so much more than I will ever be. I hadn’t thought about how her effect on David could linger like that. But it will. Yuki’s right.”
“You can’t think that way. Laurel is very different from you, but you, you’re amazing all by yourself,” Tamani said, surprising himself by how much he meant it. He hesitated, then grinned. “You’re funnier than Laurel.”
“Oh, good,” Chelsea said dryly. “I’m sure a couple of well-timed jokes’ll win David’s heart over to me forever.”
“That’s not what I mean,” Tamani said. “Listen, seriously, you can’t compare yourself to a faerie. We’re plants. Our perfect symmetry is something you humans value for some reason. So on the outside, yeah, she’s going to look different from you. But that doesn’t make her better, and honestly, except for maybe in the beginning, I don’t think that’s what David saw in her.”
“So she’s better on the inside, too?” Chelsea muttered.
Now she’s being deliberately knot-headed. “No, listen, I just want you to understand what makes Yuki so wrong. In Avalon, everyone has the same kind of symmetry Laurel and I have. We do have a range of . . . beauty, I guess, but there’s nothing special about Laurel’s appearance. She even has a friend at the Academy who is practically her mirror image. If David somehow met Katya, or some faerie more beautiful than her, do you think he’d stop loving Laurel?”
“I gotta say, you’re really bad at this,” Chelsea grumbled.
“Sorry.” Tamani grimaced. “I didn’t mean to imply that he would never stop—”
Chelsea interrupted him with a small, pitiable sound. “It’s OK, I know what you’re trying to say. Really, the last thing you need to be doing is trying to convince people that Laurel’s nothing special. I don’t believe it; you don’t believe it. And considering the fact that you stealing her away is my only hope for any chance with David in the future, I hope you never do.”
“No, that’s not it at all.” He paused, thinking. “Laurel was gone for a long time, Chelsea. And even though she always had my love, I’ve looked at other girls in the past.” He couldn’t help but feel a little silly, making the confession. “There was one really beautiful faerie who I . . . danced with a couple times, at festivals. I haven’t seen her in years, but I have to tell you, since being able to really be with Laurel – to get to know her all over again – I haven’t thought of that faerie once. Seriously,” he added with a grin when Chelsea raised her eyebrows. “I barely remembered her enough to bring her up. I love Laurel, so she becomes the most beautiful faerie in the world to me, and no one else can compare.”
“Yes, I think we’ve established that Laurel is awesome,” Chelsea drawled. “I think so too. That’s kind of the problem.”
“No, I . . . Forget Laurel for a minute. Just listen to what I’m saying. I don’t know if David will ever love you. But if he does, if he really does, it won’t matter how pretty or exciting someone else might be. If he really loves you, you can’t possibly lose. Because he won’t see anyone as even remotely comparable to you.”
Chelsea looked up at him with her big grey eyes – eyes that begged for his words to be true. “Would you forget about Laurel, if you fell in love with me?”
Tamani sighed. “Sure, if it were possible for me to love anyone but her. I don’t think it is, though.”
“How does she resist you?” Chelsea asked, but her smile was back.
Tamani shrugged. “I wish I knew. How does David resist you?”
She laughed, for real this time, dissipating the tension that had filled the small kitchen.
“I wish you success with him,” Tamani said, serious now.
“How altruistic of you,” Chelsea replied, rolling her eyes.
“No, really,” Tamani said, laying a hand on her arm and leaving it there until she looked up at him. “My own hopes aside, I know what it feels like to pine for someone. I know the pain it can bring.” He paused before whispering, “I wish us both success.” As they walked out of the kitchen together, he offered her a grin. “And the fact that the one depends on the other, well, chalk it up to a happy accident.”
Though Laurel’s eyes were open when her alarm rang, its shrill buzz still made her jump as it cut through the early morning half light. December 22. Normally this was a day she would spend helping her parents in their stores, or putting up last-minute decorations, listening to Christmas music, maybe making some holiday treats. She suspected this year wouldn’t be nearly so festive.
The sky was