Wings

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 plants 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 when 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.”

David smiled halfway and rolled his eyes. “Let me have your hand,” he said.

She held out her arm and he laid two fingers on her wrist. “Your skin is really cool,” he said. “I’m kinda surprised I haven’t noticed that before.” Then he was quiet, concentrating. After a while, he shifted from the chair to the bed beside her. “Let me try it up here on your neck.”

He held the back of her neck with one hand and placed his fingers firmly against the right side. She could feel his breath on her cheek, and even though he was looking studiously away from her face, she couldn’t look anywhere else. She saw things she’d never noticed before. A light smattering of freckles along his hairline, a scar almost hidden by his eyebrow, and the graceful curve of his eyelashes. She vaguely felt his fingers push a little harder. When her breath caught, he drew back. “Did that hurt?”

She shook her head and tried not to notice how close he was.

A few seconds later, his hands drew away. She didn’t like the look in his eyes — the worried crease between his eyebrows. “What?” she asked.

But he just shook his head. “I have to be sure. I’m not going to scare you for nothing. Can I…can I listen to your chest?”

“Like with a stethoscope?”

“I don’t have a stethoscope. But if I…” He hesitated. “If I put my ear right over your heart, I should be able to hear it loud and clear.”

Laurel sat up a little straighter. “Okay,” she said quietly.

David put one hand on each side of her ribs and slowly lowered his head. Laurel tried to breathe evenly, but she was sure her heart must be racing. His cheek was warm against her skin, pressing against the neckline of her shirt.

After a long moment he lifted his face away.

“So—”

“Sshh,” he said, turning his head and putting his other cheek against the opposite side of her chest. He didn’t stay there very long before he raised his head again. “There’s nothing,” he said, his voice very soft. “Not on your wrist or at your neck. And I can’t hear anything in your chest. It sounds…empty.”

“What does that mean, David?”

“You don’t have a heartbeat, Laurel. You probably don’t even have a heart.”