“You ever heard that saying about keeping your friends close and your enemies closer?”

“We don’t know that she’s an enemy.”

“No,” Tamani agreed, “we absolutely don’t. But either way, we should keep her close.”

“What am I supposed to do? I offered her my help and I told you how well that went.”

“Come on,” Tamani said, his voice soft, but a touch chiding. “Wouldn’t you hate someone who came up and was all patronizing like that?”

Laurel had to admit he was right. “I don’t know what else to do.”

He hesitated and glanced at Mrs. Harms, then leaned a little closer. “Why don’t you let me try?”

“Try . . . making friends with her?”

“Sure. We have a lot in common. Well, more than she knows—but we’re both foreign and new to Crescent City. And,” he said, raising his eyebrows, “you have to admit I’m handsome and charismatic.”

Laurel just stared.

“Plus, I’m saying hi to you in the halls now.” That was certainly true. About three times a day and usually timed for maximum kiss interruption.

“Indeed you are,” Laurel said blandly.

“So I build a friendship with you, and with her, and a few weeks down the line the roads could converge, that’s all I’m saying.”

“It could work,” she agreed, inwardly grateful for the excuse not to have more awkward conversations with Yuki. Her mom always told her you couldn’t force someone to like you, and the last several days were definitely proof of that.

“Plus, I’m not connected with Klea—as far as she knows, anyway. I might have more luck working stuff out of her.”

Laurel couldn’t imagine Tamani not getting exactly the information he wanted out of pretty much anyone. She leaned back and shrugged. “She’s all yours.”

Tamani pulled his car alongside Yuki, who was on the sidewalk headed toward the little house where she seemed to stay every moment she wasn’t in school. When she didn’t look up at him, he called out, “You want a ride?”

She turned, eyes wide, books clutched to her chest. Recognition dawned instantly, but she quickly refocused on the ground in front of her and shook her head, almost imperceptibly.

“Aww, come on,” Tamani said with a playful grin. “I don’t bite . . . hard.”

She looked up at him now, concentration in her eyes. “No thanks.”

“Okay,” he said after a minute. “Suit yourself.” He sped up, pulling ahead of her, and then veered off onto the shoulder. He was sliding from his seat as Yuki reached the car, staring at him in confusion.

“What are you doing?”

Tamani swung the door shut. “You didn’t want a ride, so I figured it was a nice day for a walk.”

She stopped. “Are you kidding me?”

“Well, you don’t have to walk with me, but if you don’t I’ll look awfully strange talking to no one.” And then he turned and started walking at a leisurely pace. He counted very slowly to ten in his head, and just as he reached nine, he heard the crunch of gravel as she hurried to catch up. Perfect.

“I’m sorry,” she said as she reached him. “I don’t mean to be antisocial, it’s just, I don’t really know anyone yet. And I don’t take rides from strangers.”

“I’m not a stranger,” Tamani said, making sure to meet her hesitant gaze. “I was probably the very first person you met at school.” He chuckled. “Other than Robison, I mean.”

“You didn’t act like you even saw me,” Yuki said guardedly.

Tamani shrugged. “I admit I was pretty focused on just understanding people. They talk funny here. Like they all have cotton balls in their mouths.”

She laughed openly now and Tamani took the opportunity to study her. She really was quite pretty, when she wasn’t staring at the ground and he could see her lovely green eyes. She had a nice smile too—something else he hadn’t seen much of.

“I’m Tam, by the way,” he said, extending his hand.

“Yuki.” She looked at his hand for a moment before taking it tentatively. He held it a little longer than necessary, trying to coax another smile out of her.

“Don’t you have . . . a host student to walk with you?” Tamani asked as they turned and headed down the sidewalk. “Isn’t that the ‘exchange’ part?”

“Um . . .” She nervously tucked her hair behind her ear. “Not really. I’m kind of a special case.”

“So who do you live with?”

“I live alone most of the time. Not alone alone,” she hurriedly corrected. “I mean my host, her name’s Klea, she checks on me every day and comes by all the time. She just travels for her job a lot. Don’t tell the school, though,” she added, looking almost shocked at herself for telling him at all. “They think Klea’s around a lot more.”

“I won’t,” Tamani said, deliberately casual. He had watched her house and knew Klea hadn’t set foot in the place in more than a week. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen,” she replied immediately.

Not a moment’s hesitation. If she was lying, she was very good at it.

“Is it lonely?”

She paused now, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. “Sometimes. But mostly I like it. I mean, no one tells me when to go to bed or what to watch on TV. Most kids would kill for that.”