As if freed from shackles instead of clothing, Tamani’s shoulders relaxed and he sighed noisily. Even though he was a bit short by human standards, his arms were lean and long. He stretched, flinging them out wide, his broad shoulders forming the top of a slender triangle that narrowed to his waist, where his jeans hung loosely at his hips. The angles of his back caught the sunlight and for a moment Laurel fancied that she could see him soaking in those nourishing rays. She knew she should say something — announce her presence — but she hesitated.

When he placed his hands on the hips she was eyeing and lifted his face to the sky, Laurel realized she’d better make some noise before he took something else off. She cleared her throat quietly.

The sun tossed golden light through Tamani’s hair as he spun, visibly tense. “It’s you,” he said, sounding relieved. Then a strange look took over. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Not long,” Laurel said quickly.

“A minute?” Tamani pressed. “Two?”

“Um, about one, I guess.”

Tamani shook his head. “And I didn’t hear a thing. Damn human clothes.” He dropped onto a fallen log and pulled off a sock. “They’re not just uncomfortable, they’re noisy! And what is with that school? It’s so dark.”

Laurel stifled a grin. She’d told her mother the same thing after her first day at Del Norte. “You’ll get used to it,” she said, handing him the nectarine. “Eat this. It’ll make you feel better.”

He took the fruit from her, his fingers brushing hers. “Thanks,” he said softly. He hesitated, then faced forward and took a bite. “I trained for this. I did! But they never made me stay indoors for this long at once. I was focused on learning the culture and didn’t even think about the consequences of being inside so much.”

“It helps if you get a seat under the windows,” Laurel suggested. “I learned that the hard way.”