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"You don't look too happy," he said. "A ride in this thing will drive your gloom away. You have the Adam Jackson one hundred percent guarantee."

I looked toward the house. Aunt Sara and Uncle Jacob would have a fit if they saw me get into the boat, but Adam's shoulders gleamed invitingly in the afternoon sunlight. I stood up, my heart thumping.

Why not? I thought. I'm not a prisoner here. "Okay," I said impulsively.

"Good," he cried. "Hurry up. The Atlantic Ocean isn't exactly a bathtub yet," he said laughing and pretending to be shivering in the water.

I rolled up my dungarees as high as I could, cradled my sneakers and socks in my arms, and then stepped into the water. The tide kept rising, however, and I screamed and retreated. He laughed and rushed forward, scooping me into his arms before I could protest. Then he carried me to the boat as if I weighed nothing and gently lifted me over the edge. Once I was in, he pushed the boat out, pulled himself up and swung over.

"See. Barely a drop on you."

"I can't believe I'm doing this."

"What's the big deal?" he said shrugging. "Boats, water, fishing. . . they're as common as breathing to us Cape Codders, and now that you're becoming one, too, you have to get used to it all or risk forever being known as an outsider: And you know how we treat outsiders," he said. He widened his eyes as though that would be a fate worse than death. He laughed and started the motor.

The boat lifted and fell with the waves so sharply, I had trouble standing.

"Isn't it too rough today? I feel as if I'm in an egg beater."

"Call this rough? Hardly." He started the engine. Then he patted the seat beside him. "Sit up here so you get a good view. I'll even let you steer if you want."

"Really?"

"Sure. Come on, sit," he urged and I did so. "I haven't been out much myself this year," he said. "I'm glad I had the desire to do so today." He turned to me with a twinkle in his soft blue eyes. "It wasn't just an accident finding you on the beach, you know."

"Oh?"

"It's fate, what's meant to be," he said with a wink.

And then he gunned the engine so fast and hard, the front of the boat lifted and we hit the water with a hard bounce.

I screamed. I had to cling to him, but he didn't seem to mind.

"Do you have to go so fast?" I cried. The spray was hitting us as d the wind made my blouse flap so much, I thought it would tear off. My eyes were tearing, too.

"Of course," he said. "You want to get a thrill, don't you? Going slow is not for people like us."

People like us? I thought. Who did he think I was?

The boat bounced so hard each time it hit the water, I was afraid it might fall apart. My heart was pounding. Finally, he slowed down and told me to try steering myself. He slid over and I took the wheel. Then he pulled himself around, straddling me, and reached over my shoulders with both his arms to put his hands over mine.

"I'll show you how to do it first," he said, his cheek against my cheek. He was wearing some wonderful-smelling aftershave lotion. The water, the breeze, the scent of the ocean and his lotion made me dizzy. I felt myself spinning, but it was wonderful and exciting. For a while anyway, I could forget the secrets and the lies.

He accelerated slowly and I turned the wheel, im-pressed and fascinated with my power to direct the boat. I was so entranced with it that I didn't pay much attention to his lips moving over my ears and down my cheek.

"You're delicious," he suddenly said.

"What?" I pulled to the side to look at him. He was staring at me, those remarkable eyes drinking me in, then swallowing me down. I quickly fastened one of the buttons of my blouse that had opened, but my garments felt flimsy and transparent under his piercing gaze. It took my breath away. Without warning, the boat bounced sharply, tossing him into my lap. We both screamed and he recovered quickly enough to drop the speed and straighten the bow. We caught our breaths and the boat bobbed gently. This far away from shore, the water was calmer and more inviting.

"You have to keep your eyes on what you're doing," he said.

"And you have to keep yours in your head. I have pupil prints in places I'd rather keep

unblemished."

He laughed and leaned back. "You sure talk funny sometimes, but it's refreshing. All the girls here sound the same. Everything's groovy, know what I mean?"

I nodded.