“How do you know?”
I rolled my eyes, feeling less tense at the presence of a stranger than piqued by curiosity at the weird line of questioning. “Because fairies don’t exist, so this can’t be a magical ring.”
A slight smile pulled at the corner of his lips, as if I’d said something funny. “That’s partially true.”
This conversation had taken a strange turn. I took a step back, ready to join my friends. But something kept me from turning away completely. A bit of moonlight caught his arms, illuminating black tattoos. The bits I could see looked like leaves or vines.
The stranger noticed my gaze, and he crossed his arms. “What are you doing out here?”
“I camewith some friends.”
“It’s the middle of the night.”
“It was a dare,” I said, straightening my shoulders slightly. In his presence, all of that felt a bit juvenile.
“Did you get what you came for?” There was a hint of amusement in his tone again, and I suddenly had the feeling he’d known why we were here all along. A small voice reminded me of what Maci had said.My mom said it’s a private school for rich kids.
I studied the stranger’s dark collared shirt, pants, and shoes. I didn’t know much about designer clothing, but they looked expensive. And tattoos weren’t cheap. I’d never seen anyone our age with that much ink. Could he be a student at Evergreen Academy?
The idea was intriguing. I’d lived in the small town of Weed, California, for eighteen years, and I’d never met anyone associated with the academy. I’d thought the place was probably abandoned, a relic of an earlier time.
“I’m not sure,” I said, struggling to remember what he had just asked.Get it together, Briar.
“I think your friends are waiting for you. Be careful walking back. Wouldn’t want you to trip.” By the way he said it, I knew he’d seen me lose my balance against the rock and almost fall into the ring. I narrowed my eyes.
“I know my way around. I grew up here.” I wasn’t sure why I’d said that, but I felt the need to defend myself for being in this forest. If he truly was here to attend this Evergreen Academy, then he was the newcomer, not me.
His eyebrows drew up incrementally. “Well then, happy midsummer, local.” He smirked, and I frowned.Happymidsummer?I wanted to study him more closely, but it was difficult to get a read on him in the dark.
We stood there like that for a moment—locked in some strange staring contest, his expression infuriatingly relaxed—until I heard Maci call, “Briar! Where’d you go?”
I glanced behind me and saw her emerging from the trees with Jace right behind. The headlights from Mitchell’s car shone in the distance. “Who are you talking to?”
When I looked back toward the fairy ring, the dark-haired man was gone. I shook my head, scanning the forest. There wasn’t a soul or a sound besides us. “No one.”
By the time we were driving down the long dirt road and into town, I’d begun to wonder if I’d seen him at all.
Chapter One
“Tomorrow’s the big day. I can’t believe my niece is going to be a college student. It’s making me feel old.” My aunt wiped her hands on her apron and tucked a dark curl behind her ear. Her flower-embroidered apron hung from her neck and was tied securely around her waist, her ever-present uniform when she worked in the café.
“You? Old? Never,” I said with a grin, and my aunt—barely forty and the receiver of plenty of attention from our male customers—nodded approvingly.
“Have I told you lately you’re my favorite niece? I wish we could rewind the clock on summer, though. It always goes by too quickly.”
My brain conjured a memory from the summer, the one that had replayed in my mind in the weeks since, and before I could think twice, I asked my aunt about it. “Have you ever heard of anyone around here celebrating Midsummer?”
“Midsummer? It’s a lovely tradition in many countries. But no, I don’t think many people celebrate it in the US.”
I’d done a little research on it immediately after the day in the woods outside Evergreen Academy and learned that it was another term for the summer solstice, the longest day of the year. But the way the stranger had said “Happy Midsummer,” as if it had been as common as saying “Merry Christmas” in December, had thrown me. It was a strange salutation.
“When I was in culinary school, one of my classmates was Swedish,” Aunt Vera continued. “She told me that Midsummer is a holiday there, and people make flower crowns and wear them around. It sounded delightful. Why do you ask?”
I shifted my weight and poured my attention back into stirring the batter in the large commercial mixing bowl between my hands. I didn’t want to tell Aunt Vera that I’d been sneaking around on Evergreen Academy grounds at midnight, having conversations with strangers. Aunt Vera was lax compared to most of my friends’ parents, but that one wasn’t likely to go over too well.
“It’s just something I heard about this summer, and it’s not a common holiday here.”
“That gives me an idea. We should start selling midsummer-themed cookies. We could do the same when the seasons change to fall, winter, and spring as well.” I could see my aunt’s brain—creative, like my own—running through ideas for decorating the cookies, cakes, and cupcakes that she was famous for. New themes always excited her.
