Read Online Forget-Her-Nots by Amy Brecount White - Free Book Online
Authors: Amy Brecount White
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empty-handed.”
Miss Spenser smiled. “Your earlier bouquet was lovely. How long might this take?”
“Ten minutes?” said Laurel.
“All right,” said Miss Spenser. “I could use a sip of water.”
“Great!” Laurel pulled Kate’s arm and whispered as they hurried away. “Run to the bathroom and get some wet paper towels. Please.”
“Cool,” said Kate. “Got it.”
Laurel let her legs lengthen into a sprint as she headed toward the library. She rounded the tower and gasped. Hundreds of tulips—red, yellow, and white—had opened their petals to the warming sun. Yellow tulips were for“hopeless love” or friendship, she remembered, and she wasn’t sure about white, so she picked only red. A hint of their spiciness swirled around her, but she tried not to breathe it in. She gathered a dozen—enough to speak loudly for Miss Spenser’s shy heart.
Moments later Laurel was dashing back to the teacher cottages. Nicole couldn’t smell the tulips, but Laurel hadn’t said her words then. In her mind’s eye she pictured Professor Featherstone kissing Miss Spenser’s hand, the two of them twirling and waltzing with happiness.
“Bright cut flowers,” Laurel said, “leaves of green. Bring about what I have seen.” The scented energy rocketed up her arm and flowed through her body.
Kate was just ahead on the path, but so was Tara. Breathless, Laurel held the flowers farther from her face and hoped no one else could hear the humming that filled her ears.
Tara shook her head. “More flowers? Are you playing Little Red again?”
Kate glanced anxiously from Tara to Laurel. She handed the wet paper towels to Laurel who—her hands shaking visibly—wrapped them around the stems. The humming, the tingling inside her was building.
“I like Laurel’s flowers,” said Kate.
“You’re not supposed to pick them on school grounds,” said Tara.
Laurel mirrored her glare. “Are you going to tell on me?”
“I’m no snitch,” said Tara. “Just tell me who they’re for.”
Suddenly dizzy, Laurel looked pleadingly at Kate.
“Um,” Kate started, “she’s givin’ them to Ms. Suarez . . . who needs them for some meeting thingy at the conservatory. Right?”
“Right,” Laurel panted. Her hands were stinging, and she could barely stand still.
“La-ame,” said Tara. “But why should I expect more from you?”
“Got to run.” Laurel flashed Kate a look of gratitude and took off. Miss Spenser was waiting in her car, and Laurel almost tossed the tulips through the open window.
Miss Spenser caught them in her lap. “Oh! How wonderful. Where did you get these?”
The fierce energy sailed out of her, and Laurel sighed in relief. “By the library. There are tons blooming.”
“You know, students aren’t supposed to pick flowers.” Miss Spenser tried to look stern, but her finger was stroking one of the velvety petals.
“Keep the bouquet with you the whole time,” Laurel said. “Especially when you’re with the professor.”
Miss Spenser’s eyebrows lifted. “How do you know that I’m seeing him?”
Laurel felt like her mind had stumbled. “But you are , aren’t you?”
“Yes, but you’re becoming quite dictatorial these days,” Miss Spenser teased, suddenly girlish. “Thank you, dear. You’re an angel.”
Waving, Laurel watched the taillights disappear down the tree-lined road and crossed her fingers. This is so crazy, she thought, walking to dinner. But it feels right.
By the time Laurel reached the dining hall, Kate’s table was full. Laurel had a quick meal with Rose and Mina and then headed for the dorm’s basement, which held the mailroom. An occasional postcard from her dad was all she could realistically hope for, but she couldn’t stop herself from checking. The other letters her mom had promised were somewhere in this world.
“Where’s Tara?” Laurel whispered to Kate, who showed up moments later.
“Nicole’s room,” said Kate. She picked up a
Miss Spenser smiled. “Your earlier bouquet was lovely. How long might this take?”
“Ten minutes?” said Laurel.
“All right,” said Miss Spenser. “I could use a sip of water.”
“Great!” Laurel pulled Kate’s arm and whispered as they hurried away. “Run to the bathroom and get some wet paper towels. Please.”
“Cool,” said Kate. “Got it.”
Laurel let her legs lengthen into a sprint as she headed toward the library. She rounded the tower and gasped. Hundreds of tulips—red, yellow, and white—had opened their petals to the warming sun. Yellow tulips were for“hopeless love” or friendship, she remembered, and she wasn’t sure about white, so she picked only red. A hint of their spiciness swirled around her, but she tried not to breathe it in. She gathered a dozen—enough to speak loudly for Miss Spenser’s shy heart.
Moments later Laurel was dashing back to the teacher cottages. Nicole couldn’t smell the tulips, but Laurel hadn’t said her words then. In her mind’s eye she pictured Professor Featherstone kissing Miss Spenser’s hand, the two of them twirling and waltzing with happiness.
“Bright cut flowers,” Laurel said, “leaves of green. Bring about what I have seen.” The scented energy rocketed up her arm and flowed through her body.
Kate was just ahead on the path, but so was Tara. Breathless, Laurel held the flowers farther from her face and hoped no one else could hear the humming that filled her ears.
Tara shook her head. “More flowers? Are you playing Little Red again?”
Kate glanced anxiously from Tara to Laurel. She handed the wet paper towels to Laurel who—her hands shaking visibly—wrapped them around the stems. The humming, the tingling inside her was building.
“I like Laurel’s flowers,” said Kate.
“You’re not supposed to pick them on school grounds,” said Tara.
Laurel mirrored her glare. “Are you going to tell on me?”
“I’m no snitch,” said Tara. “Just tell me who they’re for.”
Suddenly dizzy, Laurel looked pleadingly at Kate.
“Um,” Kate started, “she’s givin’ them to Ms. Suarez . . . who needs them for some meeting thingy at the conservatory. Right?”
“Right,” Laurel panted. Her hands were stinging, and she could barely stand still.
“La-ame,” said Tara. “But why should I expect more from you?”
“Got to run.” Laurel flashed Kate a look of gratitude and took off. Miss Spenser was waiting in her car, and Laurel almost tossed the tulips through the open window.
Miss Spenser caught them in her lap. “Oh! How wonderful. Where did you get these?”
The fierce energy sailed out of her, and Laurel sighed in relief. “By the library. There are tons blooming.”
“You know, students aren’t supposed to pick flowers.” Miss Spenser tried to look stern, but her finger was stroking one of the velvety petals.
“Keep the bouquet with you the whole time,” Laurel said. “Especially when you’re with the professor.”
Miss Spenser’s eyebrows lifted. “How do you know that I’m seeing him?”
Laurel felt like her mind had stumbled. “But you are , aren’t you?”
“Yes, but you’re becoming quite dictatorial these days,” Miss Spenser teased, suddenly girlish. “Thank you, dear. You’re an angel.”
Waving, Laurel watched the taillights disappear down the tree-lined road and crossed her fingers. This is so crazy, she thought, walking to dinner. But it feels right.
By the time Laurel reached the dining hall, Kate’s table was full. Laurel had a quick meal with Rose and Mina and then headed for the dorm’s basement, which held the mailroom. An occasional postcard from her dad was all she could realistically hope for, but she couldn’t stop herself from checking. The other letters her mom had promised were somewhere in this world.
“Where’s Tara?” Laurel whispered to Kate, who showed up moments later.
“Nicole’s room,” said Kate. She picked up a
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