the driver would have stopped, wouldn’t he? And wouldn’t there have been a crash?
Then she knew what had happened. The car had almost run her down—it must have run the motorcycle right off the road.
She broke into a run, and found what she was looking for a few seconds later.
The motorcycle lay in the ditch; the body of a boy lay beside it. Kelly froze for a second, afraid that the person might be dead. If he was—
But before she had time even to finish the thought, the person by the bike moved, slowly sitting up. Kelly darted over to him. He looked up at her, and when their eyes met, Kelly’s stomach tightened.
She knew him.
But that was crazy—she’d never seen him before in her life.
And yet something inside her insisted she knew him.
“You’re from Atlanta, aren’t you?” she blurted.
Michael shook his head, his eyes still on the odd-looking girl who was standing a few feet away. He had the strangest feeling, as though she were someone he knew. But that was crazy, because from the way she looked, she couldn’t be from around here. None of the girls in Villejeune dressed the way she did, and there sure weren’t any with pink hair. “I’ve never been to Atlanta. I mean, I’ve been there, but just to the airport. We were going to Chicago once, and we changed planes there.”
Kelly frowned. It was really weird. He didn’t look like anyone she knew, and yet somehow she was certain they knew each other. And then she remembered the boy in the swamp last night.
She hadn’t gotten a good look at him, really. It had already been getting dark, and she’d only seen him for a second. “Were you out in the swamp last night?” she asked.
Michael frowned. How had she known? Had she seen him there? And if she had, why hadn’t he seen her?
Maybe he had.
Maybe it was one more thing he didn’t remember.
A chill crawled up his spine, and he shifted uneasily. “Were you?” he countered.
Kelly hesitated, then nodded. “I was walking along the canal near my grandfather’s house, and I saw someone. I thought it might have been you.”
Now it was Michael who hesitated, searching his mind for any hint that he might have seen the girl before.
There was nothing.
Except that there was something familiar about her.
It was her eyes. There was something in her eyes that he recognized. But what?
“I was out there,” he said at last. “But not by the canals. They’re on the other side of town.” But he might have been there. He was in a boat, and he might have gone anywhere.
Kelly gazed at the boy, feeling his eyes fixed on her, too. If he didn’t know her, then why was he looking at her that way? And then she remembered. He was dressed the same way as the kids she’d seen in town—a pair of khaki pants and plaid shirt, and even though his clothes were stained, and there was mud in his hair, she could tell he wasn’t any different from them at all.
He thought she was some kind of freak.
“How come you’re staring at me?” she demanded, summoning all the hostility she could muster.
Michael took a step back. “I—I keep feeling like I know you, too.”
Kelly hesitated—was he just trying to get to her? “Well, if it was you I saw, then you saw me, too,” she finally challenged.
“I guess maybe so,” Michael said uncertainly. Then, without thinking about it at all, he told her the truth of what had happened to him in the swamp.
Kelly stared at him. It was exactly what had happened to her last night! Maybe they had met, even though neither of them remembered it! Maybe they’d even talked to each other.
“M-My name’s Kelly Anderson,” she said, suddenly feeling shy.
Michael grinned crookedly. “Now I know who you are. My dad’s your grandfather’s lawyer. I’m Michael Sheffield.”
Together, the two of them pulled the bike back onto the road, and after checking it for damage, Michael tried to start it. On the third attempt the motor caught. Michael stole another look at Kelly. He’d never seen anyone who looked quite like her before, except on television.
Yet there was something about her that appealed to him, despite her pink hair and strange jewelry.
Something about her that was different from any of the other kids he knew, something in her eyes that set her apart.
That was familiar.
Then he knew what it was.
Despite her looks, he was certain that inside,