The Wish(21)

“That’s true,” he said. “But I can probably figure it out.”

“You think you can guess my name?”

“I’m usually pretty good,” he said. “I can read palms, too.”

“Are you serious?”

“Would you like a demonstration?”

Before I could answer, he gracefully rose from his chair and started toward me. He was a little taller than I’d expected, and lanky, like a basketball player. Not a center or forward like Zeke Watkins, but maybe a shooting guard.

When he was close, I could see flecks of hazel in his brown eyes, and again I noticed the trace of amusement in his expression that I’d seen earlier. He seemed to scan my face, and when he was satisfied, he motioned to my hands, which were still buried in my pockets. “Can I see your hands now? Just hold them faceup.”

“It’s cold.”

“It won’t take long.”

This was weird and getting weirder, but whatever. After I showed him my palms, he leaned closer to them, concentrating. He held a finger up.

“Do you mind?” he asked.

“Go ahead.”

He traced his finger lightly over the lines in my palms, one after the other. It struck me as strangely intimate, and I felt a little unsettled.

“You’re definitely not from Ocracoke,” he intoned.

“Wow,” I said, trying to keep him from knowing how I felt. “Amazing. And your guess probably has nothing to do with the fact that you’ve never seen me around here before.”

“I meant that you’re not from North Carolina. You’re not even from the South.”

“You might have also noticed I don’t have a Southern accent.”

Nor did he, I suddenly realized, which was strange, since I thought everyone in the South was supposed to sound like Andy Griffith. He continued to trace for another few seconds before pulling his finger back. “Okay, I think I’ve got it now. You can put your hands back in your pockets.”

I did. I waited but he said nothing. “And?”

“And what?”

“Do you have all your answers?”

“Not all of them. But enough. And I’m pretty sure I know your name.”

“No, you don’t.”

“If you say so.”

Whether he was cute or not, I was done with the game and it was time for me to go. “I think I’m going to go sit in the car for a while,” I said. “It’s getting cold. Nice meeting you.” Turning around, I took a couple of steps before I heard him clear his throat.

“You’re from the West Coast,” he called out. “But not California. I’m thinking…Washington? Maybe Seattle?”

His words stopped me in my tracks and when I turned, I knew I couldn’t hide my shock.

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

“How did you know?”

“The same way I know you’re sixteen and a sophomore. You’ve also got an older sibling and I’m guessing it’s…a sister? And your name starts with an M…not Molly or Mary or Marie, but something even more formal. Like…Margaret? Only you probably call yourself Maggie or something like that.”

I felt my jaw drop slightly, too stunned to say anything at all.

“And you didn’t move to Ocracoke permanently. You’re only staying a few months or so, right?” He shook his head, breaking into that smile again. “But enough. Like I said earlier, I’m Bryce and it’s nice to meet you, Maggie.”

It took a few seconds before I was finally able to croak out, “You could tell all that from looking at my face and my palms?”

“No. I learned most of it from Linda.”

It took me a second to figure it out. “My aunt?”

“I visited with her for a little while when I was in the cabin. She pointed you out when you walked past our table and she told me a little about you. I’m the one who fixed your bike, by the way.”

As I peered at him, I vaguely remembered my aunt and Gwen talking to someone in the booth.

“Then what was all that stuff about my face and my palms?”

“Nothing. Just having fun.”

“That wasn’t very nice.”

“Maybe not. But you should have seen your expression. You’re very pretty when you have no idea what to say.”

I almost wasn’t sure I’d heard him right. Pretty? Did he just say that I’m very pretty? Again, I reminded myself that it didn’t matter one way or the other. “I could have done without the magic trick.”

“You’re right. It won’t happen again.”

“Why would my aunt tell you about me?” And, I wondered, what else had she told him?

“She wanted to know if I was interested in tutoring you. I do that sometimes.”

You’ve got to be kidding me. “You’re going to be my tutor?”

“I haven’t committed to it. I wanted to meet you first.”

“I don’t need a tutor.”

“My mistake, then.”

“My aunt just worries a lot.”

“I understand.”

“Then why doesn’t it sound like you believe me?”

“I have no idea. I was just going on what your aunt told me. But if you don’t need a tutor, that’s fine with me.” His grin was relaxed, his dimples still in place. “How do you like it so far?”