A Dash of Modern Magic: The Complete Series

Chapter 1

one

Chris

I squash my face against the passenger window, absently swiping my black bangs out of my eyes. “Are you sure we’re going the right way? I thought that sign said ferry parking was to the left.”

“It did.” Quinn’s voice is calm and measured, her hands steady on the wheel even as her car’s tires tremble over the cracked asphalt. “Which is why we turned left back there before we made a right.”

“I don’t remember a left turn.”

Quinn doesn’t take her gaze off the road, but I can tell she’s resisting the urge to roll her eyes at me. “That’s because you were staring at your phone with the hatred of a thousand burning suns.”

I tense at the memory of my parents’ text.

It had been a mistake telling them about this trip.

Silly me, thinking they’d be happy I was putting myself out there again and being more social.

Instead of support, I’d gotten a lecture on how I shouldn’t let any unnecessary distractions get in the way of my schoolwork.

My mom hadn’t needed to spell out what that was code for—she’d made her position on my “lifestyle” perfectly clear.

A hand briefly squeezes my shoulder, and I expel a breath, peeling my forehead away from the window to glance at Quinn.

With her rainbow-dyed dreadlocks and affinity for shawls, she looks like she belongs to another era.

I’ve only known her for a little over a year, but she can always tell when I’m starting to spiral.

It’s one of the things that makes her such a good friend—that, and her unflappable sense of calm.

“How are you not stressing out right now?” I mutter, turning back to stare at the nondescript buildings flicking past. “It’s like a damn logic puzzle to find the parking lot. If I were driving, I’d have collapsed into a puddle of rage by now.”

Quinn snorts. “As if you need an excuse to collapse into a puddle of rage.”

“Fair.” I slump deeper into my seat and play with the door controls. “What makes a thousand burning suns so hateful anyway? I thought suns were supposed to be happy.”

“It’s the heat,” Quinn replies instantly. “Nothing makes me grouchier than getting gross and sweaty. Being like that all the time would fill anyone with hate. Plus, anything that bright is definitely hiding something beneath the cheery facade.”

I chuckle. “Good point. I’m just glad at least one of us speaks asinine road sign.”

“A perk of being your friend—you get good at cutting through bullshit.”

“Please,” I huff. “You’re friends with me because I’m gullible enough to let you drag me along on your crazy adventures. I could be at Geraldine’s, downing shots and picking up cute guys.”

We both know I’d be doing nothing of the sort. If I needed more evidence of how lucky I am to have Quinn as my best friend, I get it when she doesn’t call me on that fact.

Instead, she says, “I’m glad you came. I can’t believe I’ve been in Michigan for three years and never once made the drive. Did you know Mackinac Island was ranked the number one island to visit in the continental US?”

“So you said when you begged me to come with you.”

Quinn takes a turn sharper than necessary, flinging me into the door. I glare at her as she continues blithely, “Well, it’s true. You’re going to love it! Most of the island’s a state park, and I’ve heard the fudge and shopping are to die for. Plus, there are no cars allowed!”

“No cars?” I frown as I settle back in my seat. “How does anyone get anywhere?”

“The island’s small enough you can pretty much walk or bike wherever you need to go. And they have actual horse-drawn carriages.” She sighs dreamily. “Like a real-life fairy tale.”

The car starts to swerve while Quinn’s distracted, and I clutch my armrest, squawking a warning.

Once she’s refocused on the road, I turn back to the window and cross my arms over my seatbelt.

The glass reflects my scowl back at me. “You say that now but wait until you get a good whiff of those horses. Or realize how much your feet ache after walking all day.”

“Complain all you like—your grumpiness doesn’t affect me.” She flips on her turn signal. “I’ve developed immunity through constant exposure.”

Before I can muster a comeback, Quinn takes another right turn, and we emerge into a mostly empty parking lot.

“Thank God,” I groan as she pulls into the nearest open spot. “I was beginning to wonder if this parking lot was a myth.”

“The signs weren’t that hard to follow.” Quinn switches off the car. I unbuckle and reach for the door, pausing when she speaks, her voice uncharacteristically hesitant. “Look. I know this isn’t really your thing and that I…encouraged you to tag along.”

I fix her with a flat look, and she rolls her eyes.

“Okay, fine. I totally forced you to come with me.” Unclipping her seatbelt, she leans across the center console and pokes me hard in the chest. “But promise me you’ll at least try to loosen up and have a good time. You can’t keep pushing the rest of the world away forever.”

Watch me. I force a grin I know doesn’t reach my eyes. “Fine. I promise I’ll do my best not to be a total buzzkill this weekend.”

Her solemn expression dissolves, replaced by her usual carefree grin. “Awesome. Then let’s go find our ferry before it leaves without us.”

Resigned, I follow Quinn out of the car and snag my overnight bag from the backseat. A chill wind buffets us. I shiver, tugging my jacket tighter around me. Though I can’t see Lake Huron past the crumbling buildings ringing the lot, I know it must be close.

“Shuttle or walk?” Quinn asks.

I shrug. “Either works for me. Whichever you’d…”

I trail off as I spy another gaggle of people our age piling out of a pickup truck a few rows down—three guys and a girl, all of them laughing.

I don’t recognize most of them, but Devon’s dark-skinned face is impossible to forget.

The last time I’d seen it, he’d been giving me the same disgusted look as the rest of the team after I stumbled out of Coach’s office, what was left of my world crashing down around me.

His gaze finds me across the parking lot, and his easy laughter vanishes. I remain frozen to the spot. I can’t tell what my expression is doing—probably something between wide-eyed panic and an answering scowl.

Quinn glances between us. “Do you know that guy?”

I don’t reply.

Devon breaks eye contact first, lips curling in a sneer as he loops an arm over the girl’s shoulder and steers his group toward the sign indicating the shuttle stop. He says something, and while I can’t make out the words, their laughter carries on the breeze.

I clench my jaw and turn away.

“Hello? Earth to Chris, come in, Chris.” Fingers waggle in front of my face, and I blink back to reality to find Quinn giving me a concerned look. “Are you all right?”

I swallow down the tight ball of anger, hurt, and betrayal seeing Devon again had conjured. “I’m fine. Just…caught off guard.”

She studies Devon, her eyes narrowing. “I take it you’re not exactly great friends, huh?”

“Something like that.” I stare at my feet and kick at broken bits of asphalt. “That’s Devon. He was on the track team with me…before.”

I’ve told Quinn enough about my past that she understands, her expression softening as she turns back to me. “Ah. Well, it’s a beautiful day out, so forget the shuttle. We might as well enjoy a nice walk.”

“It’s like fifty degrees out here!”

“Then it’ll be refreshing.”

I let Quinn loop her arm through mine and tug me along the sidewalk leading to the docks.

As usual, she fills my withdrawn silence with inane chatter on everything from the dilapidated warehouses we pass to the dream she had last night, inspiring her next great art project.

By the time we reach the ferry landing, most of my tension has leaked away.

So what if Devon signed up for this school trip, too?

I can survive a couple of days with the asshole, for Quinn’s sake.

“How patriotic,” I say, eyeing the ferry that’ll take us across the lake to Mackinac Island.

Painted white and red with blue accents, it rises two levels.

The first is covered while the second, accessible via a narrow staircase, remains open.

Narrow plastic seats that don’t look remotely comfortable line both levels.

Quinn beams at the ferry like she wants to adopt it and take it home with her. “It’s adorable!”

I just shake my head.

As we approach the metal ramp leading onto the ship, a frazzled-looking woman wielding a clipboard like a cudgel stalks over.

Dressed in slacks and a cotton blouse, she peers at us from beneath thick black glasses with a look that suggests she knows we’re up to no good and is determined to catch us.

“Are you two here for the university trip?”

“No,” I deadpan. “We’re hooligans here to steal this ferry and declare ourselves lake pirates.”

The woman narrows her eyes. “I’m afraid that’s rather less funny than you intended, young man, when you consider the exceedingly real pirates like Calico Jack and Roaring Dan Seavey who once terrorized the Great Lakes.”

I open my mouth, but Quinn interjects before I can dig my hole deeper. “You’re right, ma’am. Sorry about my ignorant friend. I, for one, am thrilled for this opportunity to experience the beauty—and history—of Mackinac Island.”

Quinn’s honest enthusiasm bleeds through her words, and the woman harrumphs, appearing at least partially mollified.

“Well, of course you are. Mackinac Island has a rich history, from its time as a fur trading post, to Fort Mackinac’s defense against Canada during the War of 1812, to the island’s eclectic mix of cultures and architectural styles.

While our designated itinerary doesn’t leave enough time to fully appreciate everything the island has to offer, I’d be happy to provide you with a list of my personal recommendations. ”

“That’d be great!” Quinn says.