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Authors: Amy Brecount White

Forget-Her-Nots (13 page)

BOOK: Forget-Her-Nots
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B
ill’s
bust” was a life-sized statue of William Shakespeare at the front entrance to Avondale. Gladys had named the school after the River Avon, which runs through the bard’s birthplace. Laurel was hurrying from the soccer field with Kate to meet Whitney, and she’d finally worked up the courage to ask Kate if Justin had called.

“No,” said Kate. “He only sent me one e-mail, about playin’ Frisbee, and I put him off. Alan’s called nine times and we’re texting all the time. I would’ve gone there for dinner tonight, but they had an away meet.”

“So, you’ve answered all of Alan’s messages?” asked Laurel.

“Definitely,” said Kate. “He’s adorable!”

“What about the other guys?”

“I didn’t answer, and they didn’t write back.”

“So, it wears off,” Laurel whispered.
Thank God.

“What? You mean the flower magic?” asked Kate.

Laurel nodded. “It must.”

“But I wanna keep Alan around.” Kate stopped walking. “Do you think he likes me only ’cause of the flowers?”

“No way,” said Laurel. All guys seemed to be attracted to Kate.

“But all the other boys have moved on,” said Kate. “I need more flowers! Now.”

“Calm down already,” Laurel whispered. “Even if the magic is temporary, I think the feelings only last if they’re really real. Miss Spenser and the professor aren’t going to stop loving each other when my flowers aren’t around.”

“No way. They’re gaga.”

“Like you and Alan. Maybe none of the other guys were in love with you, but my flowers made them feel like they were. And Robbie can’t possibly love Tara.”

Just ahead of them Whitney took a long drag and flicked a cigarette butt into the grass. “Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” Kate and Laurel responded in chorus.

“Who’s the chaperone?” Amanda nodded at Kate.

“This is Kate,” said Laurel. “We’re on JV soccer together.”

Whitney straightened her lips into a wry smirk. “Can you keep a secret, Kate?”

“Of course,” Kate said eagerly. “I
never
tell anybody anything.”

Laurel had to suck in her lips so no one would see her smile.

Whitney shoved her hands into Ricky’s jacket. “So you’ve done this flower thing a lot?”

Laurel shook her head. “Only once.”

“Nooo.” Kate bumped her. “At least four times. You gave three bouquets to Spinster Spenser, and one to me at May Day. I had guys hangin’ off me.”

Laurel shot Kate a look of caution. She wasn’t sure how much she wanted these seniors to know.

“Really?” Whitney’s eyes appraised Kate. “Are the guys still around?”

Kate shook her head. “Just one—the one I want.”

“Interesting,” said Whitney.

“Bogus,” said Amanda. “I can’t even believe we’re listening to freshmen, Whit. I’m calling him now.” She took out a cell phone but didn’t dial.

Whitney stared hard at Laurel. “This isn’t some moronic prank, is it?”

Laurel and Kate both shook their heads.

“’Cuz you can just leave this school now if it is,” Whitney finished.

“Of course it is,” said Amanda. “You can’t think some stupid flowers—”

Whitney glared at Amanda. “So. If your flowers can make somebody fall in love, could they make somebody fall out of love?”

“Maybe,” said Laurel. Basil had cured Robbie’s obsession almost instantly.

“And is it permanent?” asked Whitney. “What the flowers do?”

“Permanent enough,” said Kate. “Spinster Spenser’s gettin’ married.”

Whitney turned to Kate. “You mind giving us space? I need to talk to Laurel alone.”

Kate’s face fell. “Uh, sure,” she said. “Whatever.”

Laurel thought about protesting, but she was too curious. She followed when Whitney started down the lane toward school. Amanda stayed behind, as if guarding Kate. The sun was low, and the air was cooling. On either side of the road the trees were covered in snowy blossoms that took on the pink cast of the evening.

“Promise me no one will ever find out about this,” Whitney whispered.

Laurel nodded.

“Say it,” said Whitney.

Laurel rolled her eyes at the ground. “I promise no one will ever find out about this. You want me to cross my heart and hope to die, too?”

Whitney frowned. “I’ll know if you tell anyone.”

“I said I won’t.”

“Okay.” Whitney took a deep breath. “Everybody says Ricky and I are destined to be prom king and queen. I don’t want to mess with that, but Ricky and I don’t exactly have the same agenda.”

Laurel shook her head. “What do you mean?”

Whitney pushed back her thick hair. “Ricky’s dad reserved a hotel suite for after prom, and Ricky says he’s kicking everyone out so we can spend the night together.”

“Ohhh.” Laurel glanced sideways at the senior. She’s treating me like I’m her best friend or something, she thought.

“I mean, it’s not like I’m an angel,” said Whitney. “Ricky’s totally fun, but I don’t love him. And my sister got pregnant at her prom. That can’t happen to me.”

“So why don’t you just break up?” said Laurel. “Or say no?”

Whitney shook her head. “Everybody loves Ricky. They’ll think I’m a bitch if I dump him, and then no way will I be queen. Trust me; it will be so much easier if he doesn’t want to, you know?”

Not really, thought Laurel, but she nodded anyway. “So what do you want me to do?”

“I was thinking”—Whitney stopped walking—“you could have flowers ready and give them to me right after the announcement. Flowers to turn him off.”

“But I’m not going to prom.”

“Yes, you are,” said Whitney. “I put your name on the list of freshman hostesses. You can even ask that Kate girl to help.”

Laurel said little as they walked back to where Kate and Amanda stood. Whitney’s request was bizarre, but she didn’t see a way out of it. The senior’s bad side could be even worse than Tara’s, she’d heard.

Amanda handed a cell phone to Whitney. “He says two minutes.”

“Cool,” said Whitney, waving them off. “Y’all run along back to campus. Wouldn’t want you to get into any trouble.”

Laurel felt too curious to move far. She and Kate walked away and then hid behind a shrub, so they heard and then saw Ricky’s red Wrangler as it crested a hill and screeched to a stop. After the seniors climbed inside, the car did a tight U-turn and sped away.

Kate stood up and stretched. “How do they get away with leaving campus?”

“Maybe the rules are different for seniors,” said Laurel.

“Maybe just for them,” said Kate.

They started walking back. “How well do you know her?” Laurel asked.

“Whitney? Only what I hear, but everybody says Amanda does weed.”

“I thought the school had really cracked down?”

“They did,” said Kate. “Remember? Everyone has to sign a release form sayin’ they can search our lockers. So what did Whitney want? Another hot boyfriend?”

Laurel hesitated. “I—uh—promised her I wouldn’t say anything.”

Kate stopped and put her hands on her hips. “Laurel Whelan, you can’t possibly be more loyal to her than you are to me.”

“She made me swear. She’ll
kill
me if it gets out.”

“But I thought we were friends now. I thought we trusted each other.”

“We do,” said Laurel. “We are. But please don’t make me tell.”

“Can’t you give me a little clue?” Kate pressed.

Laurel shook her head.

Kate looked away. “I’m gonna skip dinner. I’m not hungry anymore.”

“Come on.” Laurel grabbed Kate’s arm. “You’re always hungry. You wouldn’t want me to tell anyone your secrets.”

“But I don’t have any juicy ones,” Kate said despondently.

“Sure you do,” said Laurel. “About
Alan
. Is there movie night this weekend? Want to go together?” Justin was likely to be there.

Kate shook her head. “Tara already called dibs, and I know you don’t wanna hang out with her. Sorry.”

Laurel frowned at Kate’s ponytail as she walked ahead toward the dining hall. “Wait a sec!” Laurel yelled and caught up. “Whitney said we could be freshman hostesses for prom.”

Kate stopped walking. “Both of us?”

Laurel nodded.

“Well, why didn’t you say so? That changes
everything
.”

 

Laurel and her flowers were gossip topic number one on campus. Kate and Rose kept her informed on what was said:

“She made that all up to get attention.”

“Does she
actually
think this flower stuff will make people like her?”

“Are you kidding me? Enough already with the Harry Potter magic crap.”

“How do I get some?”

So far, ten notes asking for flowers had been shoved through the slits in her locker or under her door. Most of them wanted to snag a prom date. Laurel had e-mailed back promising to help, even though she’d have to do a lot more research. And Kate was now asking for rosemary before even minor quizzes.

“You’re Laurel, right?” a voice whispered behind her as she switched books at her locker on Thursday. Susan Monroe, a sophomore cheerleader, was leaning over her.

“Hi, Susan.” Laurel turned and stood up.

“I have this favor to ask,” Susan whispered as she ran her fingers through her streaked hair. “I blew off my homework last night, and I just found out we have this chem quiz next period. Someone said you have some lucky flowers or something that makes you remember better. Can I have some?”

Kate and her big mouth. “You need it now?”

Susan nodded. “Right now.”

Laurel frowned into her locker. After the history test she’d emptied the contents of her pocket onto the top shelf. The stems of rosemary were dry and browning.

She put one into Susan’s outstretched hand. “This is all I have, but it’s kind of dried up. I don’t know if—”

“I’ll take anything.” Susan stared into her cupped palms. “That’s it?”

“Wait.” Laurel held her hand over Susan’s and said the words to herself. “That’s it.”

“I totally owe you for this,” Susan said, and then ran down the hallway.

Fear flickered through Laurel. Nothing in her body had tingled.

 

Miss Spenser caught up with Laurel as the girls were filing out of her class. “Could you wait a minute, Laurel?” she said. “I have a favor to ask.”

Laurel smiled in anticipation. I’ll make you the perfect wedding bouquet, she thought.

“Have I told you that Luke and I’ve decided not to wait?” Miss Spenser asked. “I know it’s impulsive, but it’s so lovely out now. We’ll be married in two weeks and would be delighted if you could be our flower girl.”

Laurel choked back the “yes” that was poised on her tongue. That’s for little girls, she thought.

“I picture you strolling down the aisle strewing petals on the grass.” The teacher’s hand swept out to illustrate. “White and pink and red rose petals. I’m not having bridesmaids, but I am indulging myself with a flower girl. Luke says your bouquets drew him to me. I just never imag—” Her voice faltered as her eyes filled.

“Okay.” Laurel squeezed Miss Spenser’s hand. “Yes. I’ll be your flower girl. I—I’m honored.”

 

Rose flagged down Laurel and Kate outside the dorm. “Hey, I want to show you something I found,” she said. “Let’s go back to Laurel’s room.”

“I have a big quiz tomorrow,” Kate whispered to Laurel. “Do you have any more rosemary? Or something newer?”

“I have rosemary,” Laurel said, glancing at Rose, who was obviously listening.

“Hey, what about forget-me-nots?” said Kate as they filed into the room. “Could they help me remember, too?”

“Maybe.” Laurel pictured clusters of tiny blue blooms, one of her mom’s favorites.

“Forget-
who
-nots?” said Rose.

“Forget-
me
-nots,” said Kate. “I don’t want to forget my Spanish vocab words.”

Rose sat down on Laurel’s desk, grinning. “Okay, so forget-
you
-nots.”

“Forget-
her
-nots,” Laurel said. And I don’t want to be forgotten, either, she added to herself.

Rose’s eyebrow arched. “Flowers for quizzes, eh?”

Laurel tried to silence Kate with a look. “To help remember. Some girls have asked for some.”

“Older girls,” said Kate, bouncing on the bed. “Tashi wants some, too.”


Older
girls,” mimicked Rose. “That explains everything. I had no idea you were so
pop
-ular, floral Laurel.” She pulled out a paperback and flipped through it, looking for something.

“Tashi, as in the varsity center forward?” Laurel asked, sitting down next to Kate.

“Exactly.” Kate bounced again. “Floral Laurel. I like it.”

“What does Tashi want?” asked Laurel.

“She needs help with her evil Spanish teacher,” said Kate. “I promised her some flowers for friendship or something by tomorrow.”

“Ka-ate,” said Laurel. “Friendship flowers?”

“It’s got to be easier than
luv
flowers,” said Kate. “Or whatever
Whitney
wants.”

Laurel sighed, because Kate wasn’t easing up about Whitney. “I don’t even know which flowers are for friendship.”

“You’ll figure it out.” Kate waved her concerns away. “Hey, you’re goin’ to the wedding, aren’t you?”

“Stop bouncing,” Laurel said as she stood up. “Miss Spenser asked me to be the flower girl.” She could already see the wicked grin breaking out on Tara’s face.

“The flower girl?” said Kate.

Rose looked up from her book.

Laurel frowned. “It’s not like I could turn her down. She’s too . . . happy.”

“Well.” Kate bit her lip. “I have this great light purple dress—”

Rose waved her hands. “Stop. Cease. Girl talk later. I found the passage, and I only have a few minutes.”

Kate tilted her head to read the cover of Rose’s book. “Shakespeare?”

Laurel took a step closer to Rose. Her mom had adored Shakespeare.

Rose nodded. “We’re reading
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
in Honors English. Listen to these lines.

“Fetch me that flower; the herb I showed thee once:

The juice of it on sleeping eyelids laid

Will make or man or woman madly dote

Upon the next live creature that it sees.”

BOOK: Forget-Her-Nots
3.77Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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