Mickey laid out her towel, closer to her brother’s than she would’ve yesterday. Something about the night before made him seem more human, like they were on the same team.

“Have you seen Dad yet?” she asked as she sat.

“Nope.”

“I’ve never seen him so mad.”

“I know,” Sean answered. He glanced at Mickey and rapped her on the knee. “You okay?”

Mickey felt the urge to hold out her bandage, to lift it up and show him. Partially because she thought he might be impressed, but mostly because she couldn’t remember the last time her brother asked her if she was okay and she wanted to see what he would do if she wasn’t.

“Fine,” she said. “Just worried about the imminent grounding.”

“I’m sure it will be epic, especially once Mom is involved.”

Mickey lay back, the sun white-hot through her eyelids.

“Do you ever think about how even when you close your eyes, they’re still seeing? Like, they’re never really . . . off. They’re just covered up.”

Sean sighed and lay back next to her.

“No, psycho. I never think about that.”

“You’re the psycho; you’re wearing a T-shirt while sunbathing.”

Ruth’s voice, followed by her shadow, made Mickey jump. Sean pulled on the hem of his shirt but didn’t take it off.

“Where have you been?” Mickey asked, scooching over to make room.

“I went for a walk in the woods,” Ruth said as she joined Mickey on her towel, lowering her legs to the dock. “Eek! Hot!”

“Here,” Mickey said, moving over farther.

“No, it’s fine,” she said as she rested her head on Mickey’s bare skin, her neck curved with the slight swell of Mickey’s hips. “I kind of like it.” She let go of her hair and it spilled everywhere, across Mickey’s stomach and down her other side onto the towel beneath them. It was cool to the touch, and it gave Mickey goose bumps.

As Mickey lay there, her friend’s red hair all around her—fire that didn’t burn—it was clear Ruth had a little bit of magic in her. And as long as she had Ruth, Mickey thought as her fingers grazed the matching bandage on her friend’s arm, it wouldn’t matter if Mickey had her own magic or not.

Theirs was a friendship built on sharing.

PEYOTE

“I FEEL DIRTY,” CAL said when she opened the door to her apartment.

“We’re not doing anything that bad,” I said as I stepped inside and closed the door. “Just taking advantage of his obvious crush on you.”

“What? No, I don’t feel bad; I feel dirty. As in his eyes and skin and breath got on me and it was gross.”