I willed myself to remain calm. "Read what?"
"The letter."
"You can let it go now," I said through clenched teeth as I started walking again. "The joke's over."
"What joke?"
I glared at him. "The joke that makes you feel like you need to stalk me. It's not funny." "I'm not stalking you." "Could have fooled me."
He kept pace with me, since I wasn't slowing down. "Your father needs to see you immediately, Princess."
"Don't call me Princess! Would you just let it go?" I was sure that my face was now flushed, which did nothing to help the freckle situation. "Leave me alone or I'm going to tell Chris."
"Who's Chris?" he asked.
"Like you don't know. Chris Sanders? Pretty sure he outweighs you by about thirty pounds. You wouldn't stand a chance if I told him you were bothering me."
Michael's green eyes narrowed. "I wouldn't be so sure about that."
Great. The guy was stubborn as well as crazy.
With a haircut and trendier clothes, though, he'd fit in just fine at Erin Heights-and he was definitely cute enough to be one of Chris's friends. It was annoying how good-looking I found him, despite what a jerk he was being, but I pushed that aside.
"I did read the letter," I said.
"And? Are you ready to go? I can find a dimensional gateway, but it might take me a few minutes. Then we can see King Desmond."
Hold on. I stopped walking and began to feel sick to my stomach.
"What did you just call him?" "King Desmond," he repeated.
My father's name was Desmond. I knew that. That was the one piece of information my mom had definitely shared with me-and which I'd never shared with anyone else.
"How do you know his name?" I asked.
"Because…" He looked confused. "Because he sent me here personally. I already explained this to you."
I turned my attention to the sidewalk in front of me and started moving again. "I have to go to school."
"School is meaningless right now."
"Explain that to my mother."
"Princess, please." He grabbed my arm and I tensed. He immediately let go of me. "Please stop walking for a second."
I stopped and turned to look at him. "The name is Nikki. Not Princess."
"Nikki," He said it oddly, as if he wasn't certain he should be saying it at all.
I watched the air puff out in front of me with every quick exhale I made. However, when Michael breathed, there were no puffs of frozen air.
That was odd.
"I can prove to you that what I've told you is true." His brow lowered with concentration and then he looked down at his chest. "My amulet. It's not from this world."
His sweatshirt hung open and I couldn't believe he wasn't cold-the morning was just as frigid as last night. He wore a strange pendant that rested over his T-shirt-a gold chain with a large green stone, like an emerald, but I didn't think emeralds came that big. It was literally the size and shape of a flat egg. The strange stone appeared to pulse with light under the gray skies. I tilted my head to the side as I studied it.
It was the exact same color as Michael's eyes. What was it made of? I felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to touch the stone, and I reached toward him.
"Princess, don't-" Michael seemed to freeze in place as I moved closer. My fingers brushed against the softness of the worn T-shirt before lightly touching the stone itself.
ZZAAPPPP!
The painful shock shot up my arm and I jumped back from him.
"What the-?" I held my jarred hand against my chest. I felt as if I'd just stuck my finger into a light socket.
Frowning deeply, Michael took a big step away from me. "You shouldn't have done that."
"Why did it do that? Are you plugged into something electric?"
"Just-" His chest moved in and out with increased but non-frosty breathing, and he quickly zipped up his sweatshirt, pulling the hood over his dark hair. I noticed his throat working, the Adam's apple shifting as he swallowed hard. "Just don't touch me again."
I didn't particularly like the way he said it. As if I couldn't keep my hands off him.
"Your father will be angry." He stared at me, and something resembling fear replaced his previously guarded gaze.
"I don't know who he really is or why he sent you, but I don't want to see him. Feel free to tell him that."
Instead of insisting he escort me to my oh-so-important father/daughter meeting, Michael turned away and stormed off without saying another word.
My hand still stung from touching his amulet.
Not a practical joke.
Not crazy.
He knew my father's real name. What in the world was going on?
I walked to school on autopilot, my thoughts in a million different places, and none of them, unfortunately, on my English test. I was definitely going to fail it.
Accepting the inevitability of that was probably the best approach.
Michael was seriously freaking me out. Was it possible my real father had sent him to get me? And what was his amulet made of? Why would he be wearing something dangerous like that?
I wished that when I looked into his green eyes, I'd just see a crazy guy looking out at me. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that all I saw was sincerity.