Wings. Aprilynne Pike

them, they might be more a part of you than just a…growth. Maybe it’s not really flower petals, maybe they’re more like - well, wings.” He laughed. “Sounds really weird, huh?”

      Laurel giggled. “Weirder than the fact that they’re growing out of my back in the first place?”

      “You got a point.” He let out a sigh as his eyes drifted back to the petals shimmering in the sun. “So…do you have to water them…it?”

      “I don’t know.” Laurel snorted. “Wouldn’t that be nice? Then I’d have an easy way to make it die.”

      David muttered something under his breath.

      “What?”

      David shrugged. “I think it’s pretty, that’s all.”

      Laurel glanced over her shoulders at the blue-tinged ruffly edges that spanned out on each side of her. “Do you?”

      “Sure. If you went to school like that, I bet half the girls there would be insanely jealous.”

      “And the other half would be staring at me like I was a freak of nature. No, thank you.”

      “So what are you going to do?”

      She shook her head. “I don’t know what I can do. Nothing, I guess.” She laughed humourlessly. “Wait for it to take over my body and kill me?”

      “Maybe it will go away.”

      “Right, that’s what I kept telling myself about the bump.”

      David hesitated. “Have you…told your parents?”

      Laurel shook her head.

      “Are you going to?”

      She shook her head again.

      “I think you should.”

      Laurel swallowed hard. “I’ve been thinking about that since I woke up.” She turned to look at him. “If you were a parent and your kid told you she had a giant flower growing out of her back, what would you do?”

      David started to say something, then looked down at the ground.

      “You would do the responsible thing. You’d take her to the hospital; she’d get poked and prodded and become a medical freak. That’s what would happen to me. I don’t want to be that kid, David.”

      “Maybe your mom could make something to help,” David suggested half-heartedly.

      “We both know this is way bigger than anything my mom could fix.” Laurel clasped her fingers in front of her. “Honestly, if this thing is going to kill me, I’d rather it did it in private. And if it goes away,” she said with a shrug, spreading her hands out in front of her, “then it’s better that no one else knew.”

      “OK,” David finally said. “But I think you need to reconsider if anything else happens.”

      “What else could happen?” Laurel asked.

      “It could get bigger. Or spread.”

      “Spread?” She hadn’t considered that.

      “Yeah, like if leaves started growing across your back - or you got flowers…some other place.”

      She was quiet for a long time. “I’ll think about it.”

      He chuckled dryly. “I guess I see now why you couldn’t come to the beach today.”

      “Oh, shoot. I’m so sorry. I completely forgot.”

      “It’s OK. It’s not for another couple of hours.” He was quiet for a while. “I’d invite you again, but…” He gestured at the petals, and Laurel nodded ruefully. “Wouldn’t exactly work.”

      “Can I come see you afterwards, though? Just to make sure you’re OK?”

      Tears built up in Laurel’s eyes. “Do you think I will be OK?”

      David joined her on the bed and draped one arm around her shoulders. “I hope so.”

      “You don’t know that though, do you?”

      “No,” David replied honestly. “But I certainly hope so.”

      She rubbed her arm across her face. “Thanks.”

      “So can I come?”

      She smiled up at him and nodded.

       Chapter Seven

      Laurel was lounging on the couch when the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” she called. She opened the door and smiled at David in his black T-shirt over bright yellow board shorts. “Hey,” she said, stepping out on to the porch and pulling the door shut behind her. “How was the party?”

      David shrugged. “Would’ve been more fun with you there.” He hesitated. “How are you?”

      Laurel looked down at the ground. “I’m OK. Same as this morning.”

      “Does it hurt or anything?”

      She shook her head.

      She felt his hand trace down her arm. “It’ll be OK,” he said softly.

      “How’s it supposed to be OK, David? I have a flower growing on my back. That is not OK.”

      “I meant, we’ll figure something out.”

      She smiled sadly. “I’m sorry. You came over to be nice, and I’m just—” Her voice cut off as bright headlights cut across her face. She held a hand up to block the glare and watched a car pull into the driveway. A tall, broad-shouldered man stepped out and began walking towards them.

      “This the Sewell residence?” His voice was low and gravelly.

      “Yeah,” Laurel said as he stepped into the light on the porch. Laurel wrinkled her nose involuntarily. His face didn’t look quite right. The facial bones were sharp and rugged and his left eye drooped. His long nose looked like it had been broken a few times without being set correctly and, even though he wasn’t sneering, his mouth was set in a permanent look of disappointment. His shoulders were enormously broad and the suit he was wearing looked out of place on his bulky form.

      “Are your parents home?” the man asked.

      “Yeah, just a sec.” She turned slowly. “Um, come on in.”

      She held the door open and both the man and David stepped through. As the three of them stood in the entryway the man sniffed, then cleared his throat. “You have a bonfire or something today?” he asked, looking critically at David.

      “Yeah,” David said. “Down at the beach. I was in charge of lighting it, and let’s just say there was a lot of smoke before there was any fire.” He laughed for a second, but when the man did not even smile, he fell silent.