Wings

“Sorry.”

“Did…did I do something?”

Laurel’s head lifted sharply. “You? No, David. You…you’re great.” Guilt settled over her. She forced a smile. “I just had an off day, that’s all. Give me the weekend to get over it. I’ll feel better on Monday. I promise.”

David nodded and the silence returned, heavy and awkward. Then he cleared his throat. “Can I walk you home?”

She shook her head. “I’m going to stay here awhile. I’ll be all right,” she added.

“But…” He didn’t continue. He just nodded, then stood and started to walk away. Then he turned. “If you need anything, you know my number, right?”

Laurel nodded. She had it memorised.

“OK.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I’m leaving now.”

Just before he passed out of sight, Laurel called to him. “David?”

But when he turned to her, his face so frank and open, she lost her nerve. “Have fun tomorrow,” she said lamely.

His face fell a little, but he nodded and continued walking away.

That night Laurel sat on the vanity in her bathroom staring at her back. Tears slid down her cheeks as she again smeared salve all over the lump. It hadn’t done anything before, and logic told her it wouldn’t do anything this time - but she had to try something.

Chapter Five (#ulink_d97897c1-457e-5e93-a0c8-3e9d0af20175)

Saturday morning dawned cool, with only a light mist that the sun would probably burn off by noon. Laurel predicted a hundred per cent chance of everyone at the bonfire diving or being pushed into the chilly Pacific water, and was doubly grateful she had bowed out. She lay in bed for several minutes watching the sunrise with its blended hues of pink, orange and a soft, hazy blue. Most people enjoyed the beauty of a sunset on a regular basis but, to Laurel, it was sunrise that was truly breathtaking. She stretched and sat up, still facing the window. She thought of the percentage of people in her small town who were sleeping through this incredible sight. Her father, for one. He was an infamous sleeper and rarely rose before noon on Saturday - or Sleepday, as he called it.

She smiled at that thought, but reality trickled in all too soon. Her fingers walked over her shoulder and her eyes flew open wide. She bit off a shriek as her other hand joined the first, trying to confirm what she was feeling.

The bump was gone.

But something else had replaced it. Something long and cool.

And much bigger than the bump had been.

Cursing herself for not being one of those girls with a mirror in her room, Laurel craned her neck, trying to see over her shoulder, but she could only see rounded edges of something white. She threw back the thin bedsheet and ran to her door. The knob turned silently and Laurel opened the door a tiny crack. She could hear her father snoring, but sometimes her mother got up early and she was very quiet. Laurel let her door swing open - consciously grateful, for the first time in her life, for well-oiled hinges - and slid down the hall towards the bathroom with her back to the wall. As if that was going to help.

Her hands were unsteady as she pushed the bathroom door closed and fumbled with the lock. Only when she heard the bolt click into place did she let herself breathe again. She leaned her head against the rough, unfinished wood and forced her breathing to slow. Her fingers found the light switch and she flipped it on. Taking a deep breath, she blinked away the dark spots and stepped towards the mirror.

She didn’t even have to turn to see the new development. Long, bluish-white forms rose over both shoulders. For a moment Laurel was mesmerised, staring at the pale things with wide eyes. They were terrifyingly beautiful - almost too beautiful for words.

She turned slowly so she could see them better. Petal-like strips sprouted from where the bump had been, making a gently curved four-pointed star on her back. The longest petals - fanning out over each shoulder and peeking around her waist - were more than a foot long and as wide as her hand. Smaller petals - about twenty centimetres long - spiralled around the centre, filling in the leftover space. There were even a few small green leaves where the enormous flower connected to her skin.

All of the petals were tinged a dark blue at the centre that faded to the softest sky blue in the middle and white at the ends. The edges were ruffled and looked eerily like the African violets her mother painstakingly grew in their kitchen. There must have been twenty of the soft, petal-like strips. Maybe more.

Laurel turned her front to the mirror again, her eyes on the hovering petals that floated beside her head. They looked almost like wings.

A loud rap on the door snapped Laurel out of her trance. “Done yet?” her mother asked sleepily. Laurel’s fingernails bit into her palm as she stared in horror at the huge white things. They were pretty, sure, but who in the world grew an enormous flower out of their back? This was ten - no - a hundred times worse than the bump. How was she going to hide it?

Maybe the petals would just pluck off. She grabbed one of the oblong strips and yanked on it. Pain radiated down her spine and she had to bite her cheek hard to stifle a scream. But she couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped from between her teeth.

Her mother knocked again. “Laurel, are you OK?”

Laurel took several deep breaths as the pain faded to a dull throb and she regained her power of speech. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice shaking a little. “Just a minute.” Her eyes swept the room looking for something useful. The thin, strappy nightgown she was wearing would be no help at all. She grabbed her oversized towel and threw it over her shoulders, pulling it close around her. After a quick check in the mirror to make sure there were no gigantic petals in sight, Laurel opened the door and forced a smile at her mother. “Sorry I took so long.”

Her mother blinked. “Did you take a shower? I didn’t hear the water running.”

“It was short.” Laurel hesitated. “And I didn’t get my hair wet,” she added.

But her mother wasn’t paying much attention. “Come on down when you’re dressed and I’ll make you some breakfast,” she said with a yawn. “It looks like it’s going to be a beautiful day.”

Laurel skirted past her mother into the safety of her own room. She didn’t have a lock on her door, but she wedged a chair under the doorknob like she’d seen people do in movies. She looked at the set-up dubiously. It didn’t look like it would keep much out, but it was the best she could do.

She let the towel fall from her shoulders and examined the crushed petals. They were a tad rumpled, but they didn’t hurt. She pulled one long piece over her shoulder and examined it. The huge bump was one thing, but what was she going to do about this?

She sniffed at the white thing, paused, and sniffed again. It smelled like a fruit blossom but stronger. A lot stronger. The intoxicating scent was starting to fill the room. At least the huge thing didn’t stink. She’d have to tell her mom she got a new perfume or something. Laurel inhaled again and wished she could find something that smelled this good at the perfume counter.

As the enormity of the situation crashed over Laurel, the room seemed to spin beneath her. Her chest felt tight as she tried to consider what to do.

The most important thing first; she had to hide it.

Laurel opened her closet and stood in front of it, looking for something to help her hide an enormous flower growing out of her back, but that hadn’t exactly been her first priority when she’d gone clothes shopping in August. Laurel groaned at the closet full of light, thin blouses and sundresses. Hardly made for hiding anything.

She sifted through her clothes and grabbed a few tops. After checking to make sure the coast was clear, Laurel ran to the bathroom, swearing she would get to a store today and buy a mirror for her room. The door closed a little harder than she intended but, though she stood next to it with her ear pressed against the cool wood for several seconds, she didn’t hear any response from her mother.

The first top wouldn’t even fit over the enormous flower thing. She stared at it in the mirror. There had to be another way.

She grabbed as many of the long, white petals as she could and tried wrapping them around her shoulders. That didn’t work very well. Besides, she didn’t really want to wear sleeves for the rest of her life - however long that might be.

She pulled them around under her arms and wrapped them around her waist instead. That worked better. Much better. She grabbed a long pink silk scarf off one of the hangers and wrapped it around her waist, securing the petals to her skin. Then she buttoned her shorts up over part of the scarf. It still didn’t hurt, but she felt confined and smothered.

Still, it was better than nothing. She picked a lightweight, peasant-style blouse and threw it over the whole thing. Then, with trepidation, she turned to look in the mirror.

Pretty impressive, if she did say so herself. The fabric of the blouse was bunchy anyway, so you couldn’t tell anything was underneath. Even from the side the bulge down her back was only barely noticeable and, if she brushed her hair down over it, no one would be able to tell. One small problem solved.

A hundred big ones left.

This was way more than some strange manifestation of puberty. Mood swings, disfiguring acne, even periods that went on for months were at least semi-normal. But growing oversized flower petals out of your back from a zit the size of a softball? This was something else entirely.

But what? This was the kind of stuff you saw in cheap horror movies. Even if she did decide to tell someone, who would believe her? Never, even in her worst nightmares, had she imagined something like this could happen to her.

This was going to ruin everything. Her life, her future. It was like everything was washed away in an instant.

The bathroom suddenly felt too warm. Too small, too dark, too…too everything. Desperate to get away from the house, Laurel scooted through the kitchen, grabbed a can of soda and opened the back door.

“Going for a walk?”

“Yeah, Mom,” she said without turning round. “Have fun.”