"Why didn't you come to the party last night?" he asked. "I kept looking for you."
"I couldn't," I said. "I wanted to, but--"
"Your uncle and aunt wouldn't let you?"
"Something like that."
"I figured." He shook his head. "Must be hard for you. I bet you feel as if you're in some kind of a prison or a nunnery, huh?"
I didn't say anything.
"All the girls are jealous of you, you know."
"What? Why?"
"I heard them talking about you last night, saying how pretty you are."
"They did not."
"Swear," he said raising his hand. "It's true. You're about the prettiest girl I've seen and I've seen quite a few." He leaned toward me. "I've even gone out with college girls, but you've got that one-in-amillion look about you, the magic that makes for movie stars and models. I heard from the grapevine that your mother is a model. Now I understand."
I sat there with my mouth gaping open. I had never heard a boy in our school talk like this and certainly never about me.
"Wait a minute," he said before I could respond. He got up and went to a cabinet to take out a camera. "I'd like to get a few shots of you just the way you are, natural, the wind in your hair."
"What do you want me to do?"
"Just sit there. Steer the boat and be yourself." He aimed his camera and snapped pictures. "These will be worth something someday after you're famous."
I laughed and shook my head. "I am not so pretty. I have freckles and my ears are too big. I'll never become famous."
"Adam Jackson knows pretty women and I'm telling you, Melody, you're one of 'em. Don't argue with an expert." He kept on looking at me with that gleeful smile in his eyes. He was making me very nervous.
"Can I make it go faster again?" I asked.
"I knew you would want to. Just move the lever ahead slowly."
I did so, getting better at controlling the boat. He even gave me a compliment about it.
"You've got your sea legs," he said and ran his palm down the side of my right leg. "And they're really nice." He laughed at the look on my face. "You better get used to compliments, Melody. They're going to rain down on you like a hurricane as you get older and prettier."
The blood rushed to my face. Was he just saying these things or did he really mean them? He put his arm around my shoulder and helped steer with his other hand. He held me tighter, drawing me against him until I felt his breath on my cheek again and then the soft touch of his lips.
"I think you better take me back," I told him, my voice close to cracking. "My aunt will be turning over rocks looking for me." He laughed.
"Okay, but only if you promise to meet me tomorrow night about eight o'clock."
"Meet you? Where?"
He thought a moment.
"Meet me right there where I found you sitting, or are you afraid to walk the beach at night?"
"I'm not afraid," I said quickly. "It's just that--" "You might not be able to get out? Don't let them treat you like a child," he said, his eyes narrowed.
"I don't," I protested, but in my heart, I knew he was right.
"Then it's settled.Ill bring a radio and a blanket and something to drink."