Abandon by Meg Cabot Page A

I’ve just never met a girl like you. At least, not in a long time.”
    “A girl like me?” I echoed. I remembered what he’d said as he dragged me towards the other line…the rough-looking one. “What does that mean?”
    “Nothing,” he said quickly. “I just meant I don’t often meet girls of your…nature.”
    “What do you know about my nature?” I asked. My voice was still shaking. I was pretty sure I was becoming hysterical, even though I was no longer wet and it was much warmer in the room than it had been down by the lake. “You barely know me. I was
seven
when we last met. You didn’t even recognize me down there until I told who I was, and even then you had to look me up on your little machine. What did it say about me on that —”
    “I meant it as a compliment,” he insisted, letting go of the chair in which he’d wanted me to sit. He moved towards me, both palms facing out, as if I were a pony he wanted to calm. “And you haven’t actually changed as much as you might think. You still have the biggest eyes I’ve ever seen. They’re warm, you know. Like honey.”
    His own eyes, I couldn’t help noticing, were the exact same color as the bowls holding all the fruit.
    “
You’ve
changed,” I said. I didn’t mean it as a compliment, and he seemed to know it. He had to know it, if only because for every step he took towards me, I took a defensive one back…at least until I found myself hitting the divan. Now I had nowhere else to go, and stood looking up at him, my heart fluttering in mythroat. What had I gotten myself into? I should never have agreed to let him take me from the beach.
    “Actually,” he said, standing so close, I could feel the heat from his body. “I haven’t changed at all. Neither have you. You’re still asking for favors for others. The last time I met you, you wanted me to bring a bird back to life. Then your grandfather. And out there just now, you kept talking about everybody else.
They’re
wet and
they’re
cold.
They
deserve to be treated better. That’s what you said. Was
I
all right? That’s what you wanted to know when my horse nearly trampled you. Was
I
all right. Do you know how many times someone’s asked me that question since I came here?”
    I swallowed. His face was just inches from mine. The smell of wood smoke was very strong. I didn’t know if it was coming from him or the fire in the hearth. Maybe both.
    “I don’t know,” I said.
    “Never,” he said. “And I’ve been doing this for quite some time. Everyone else always says, ‘
I’m
wet.
I’m
cold.’ No one’s ever inquired after
my
health. Not you, though. You care. Not just about birds and horses but about people. And because of that,” he said, leaning even more dangerously close, “I’m guessing a lot of people must care about you.”
    For a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me. I was almost sure he was going to. His mouth was that close to mine, and he’d reached one long, muscular arm out as if he were going to wrap it around me.
    I’d heard about people falling in love at first sight. What he’d said about my perception of him having changed was true: Hewas very striking looking, with that dark hair falling into his face, and the contrast with those very light eyes. He wasn’t handsome, necessarily, but he was someone who, if you saw him at the mall or someplace, you wouldn’t be able to look away.
    At least, I wouldn’t be able to.
    Except he didn’t kiss me. Instead, he turned out to be reaching for something on a shelf just above my head. It was a small wooden box. After he’d pulled it down, he lifted one of my hands and said, “Come sit with me. Just for a moment.”
    My heart was still hammering from thinking he’d been about to kiss me. Not that I’d wanted him to kiss me. I didn’t even want to sit down with him. I just didn’t want to seem rude. Especially since he’d started pulling me back towards the table.
    What could I do? It would be