The classroom door swung open suddenly, startling Laurel from her thoughts. Mr. Robison entered, Tamani following close behind.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Mr. Robison said. “Boys and girls?” Laurel hated how adults could combine two perfectly serviceable words into such a condescending phrase. “You might have heard that we have some foreign exchange students from Japan this year. Tam”—Laurel blanched at the counselor’s use of her pet name for Tamani—“isn’t technically in the foreign exchange program, but he just moved here from Scotland. I hope you will treat him with the same courtesy you have always shown our other exchange guests. Tam? Why don’t you tell us a little about yourself.”

Mr. Robison clapped one hand against Tamani’s shoulder. Tamani’s eyes darted briefly to the school counselor and Laurel could only imagine how Tamani would have preferred to respond. But irritation showed on his face for less than a second, and Laurel doubted anyone else noticed. He grinned lopsidedly and shrugged. “I’m Tam Collins.”

Half the girls in the class sighed softly at Tamani’s lilting brogue.

“I’m from Scotland. A little outside of Perth — not the Australia one — and…” He paused, as if searching for anything else about himself that the students might find interesting.

Laurel could think of a few things.

“I live with my uncle. Have since I was a kid.” He turned and smiled at the teacher. “And I know nothing about Government,” he said, laughter in his voice. “Not this one, anyway.”

The entire classroom was won over. The guys were nodding their heads a little, the girls were twittering, and even Mrs. Harms was smiling. And he wasn’t even Enticing them. Laurel almost groaned aloud at the trouble that could lead to.