Chapter 1 #2
I stifle a groan. Knowing Quinn, she probably means it, and if any of the places catch her interest, you can bet she’ll drag me along.
The woman brandishes her clipboard, and I take a hasty step back to avoid a wooden corner to the eye.
“I am Professor Oshkoff, the school’s representative for this trip.
While I know you are technically adults, this is still a university-sanctioned excursion.
” Her gaze lingers on me, laden with thinly veiled disapproval.
“As a result, I expect you to obey my instructions and adhere to our designated itinerary at all times. Failure to do so will result in an official conduct report to the school and may lead to other disciplinary action. Is that understood?”
We chorus our agreement, Quinn with considerably more gusto than me.
I sneak a glance past Oshkoff to the ferry, where I spot Devon squeezed into a seat practically on top of that girl that had been with him.
How much time would the school force us to spend together?
Hopefully, no more than absolutely necessary.
“Good,” Oshkoff says. “Names?” She scribbles our responses onto her clipboard before offering us each a printed schedule. I reluctantly take mine. “Sit wherever you’d like. We should be underway shortly.”
Oshkoff shuffles off, glaring toward the nearby drop-off zone and muttering under her breath about tardy students.
I scan the itinerary as I follow Quinn onto the ferry.
To my relief, she heads straight for the stairs leading to the upper level.
I have zero interest in being anywhere near Devon, and I don’t recognize anyone else there.
By the looks of it, our student group makes up most of the sparse passengers.
This late in the day, the only people still heading to the island are those like us who are planning to spend the night.
“A bicycle tour of the island?” I say, plopping into a seat beside Quinn on the mostly deserted upper level. It’s chillier up here since it’s exposed to the crisp evening air, and I snuggle into Quinn’s side with an exaggerated groan. “And a group dinner? God, kill me now.”
Quinn prods me hard enough in the ribs that I yelp. “You promised you’d try to enjoy yourself! Besides, it’s not like this was some big secret. The university emailed us the itinerary weeks ago.”
“As if I bothered to read that,” I protest with mock outrage.
“Well, then, you have only yourself to blame. Besides, you used to be a runner, right? Biking’s practically the same thing.”
“It’s really not. And that’s not the—”
“If it’s that jerk, Devon, you’re worried about, ignore him. I’ll rip him a new one if he tries to start anything.” She smirks. “Assuming that Oshkoff doesn’t do it first.”
I snort at the mental image of the stern woman chewing Devon out. The thought gives me more pleasure than it probably should. Settling back into the stiff plastic seat—every bit as uncomfortable as I’d assumed—I listen to Quinn with half an ear and stare at the watery expanse surrounding us.
Even in the gathering darkness, I have to admit the view possesses a certain stark beauty.
A bridge glows in the distance, cutting across the water in a bright twinkling line, while directly across from us sits Mackinac Island.
The people there might not believe in cars, but that mistrust clearly doesn’t extend to electricity—though most of the island is shrouded in shadow, plenty of lights blaze along the southern coast facing us.
Oshkoff’s harsh voice slices through the night from somewhere below. “Can’t you delay a little longer? I’m still waiting on one more student.”
I peer over the side to see her talking to a uniformed man I assume is the ferry’s captain. “I’m sorry, but other passengers rely on our schedule,” he says. “We can’t delay for a single person. They can grab the next ferry across in thirty minutes.”
“I can’t leave a student behind,” Oshkoff replies. “Especially not this one. I’m sure he’ll be here. Please, five more minutes.”
The captain sighs. “Fine. But if they’re not here in five, I’m leaving with or without you.”
I sit back and turn to Quinn, who has clearly been eavesdropping herself. “I wonder who they’re waiting on?” she asks.
“Someone who doesn’t give a shit about other people’s time,” I complain, shivering beneath my coat. Seeing Devon again has me feeling antsy and off-balance. I can’t wait to retreat to my room and spew my jumbled thoughts onto the page so I can make some semblance of sense out of them.
The five minutes have almost expired when a sleek silver car roars into the ferry drop-off zone.
Two coated figures stumble out, one wrapping the other in a tight embrace.
I squint, studying the car and the figures.
Something about the tableau seems strangely familiar.
When one of the figures turns their head so an overhead light catches their face, my vague curiosity turns to sinking dread.
Oh, I recognize the guy all right. Floppy brown hair he still keeps longer on top and trimmed on the sides; a thin pair of glasses that accentuate his angular face and chiseled jaw; pale blue eyes perfectly matching his serious expression—Percy Wentworth is incredibly handsome and wicked smart.
Unfortunately, he’s also the boy who ruined my life.