How could this have happened?” Colin said, gazing around them while he shook his head in disbelief. “It’s me,” Summer said miserably. “It’s because of me that we’re here.” His dark eyes rested on her. “How could this possibly be because of you?” “It’s my magic. Or maybe my nonmagic would be a better way to explain it.” Summer sighed. “One of the students cast a spell in the gallery—something about getting inside the Romeo and Juliet painting so that he and his ho,” she wrinkled her nose in distaste at the word, “could get out of the essay assignment.” “But what does that have to do with you? Other than it being your assignment?” “I was close enough to the stupid teenager when he cast the spell to have my own magic work on it. And my own magic is opposite magic—kind of. Actually, it’s more like sideways, opposite, totally screwed-up magic. The bottom line is that my magic messes up all other magic around me. So here”—she made a sweeping gesture, taking in the balcony and the pearly morning—“we are.” “In the Romeo and Juliet painting.” She nodded.
