|05| The Handsome Stranger

Salamanca smelled of oranges and old stone. Warm air drifted through the narrow streets, carrying laughter, footsteps, and a language that still tangled my tongue. It should have felt magical. Instead, my palms were sweating and my heart was lodged somewhere in my throat.

Penny was still nowhere to be found.

I spun slowly, scanning the crowd for gray eyes, a pink suitcase, anything familiar. Nothing. Just strangers flowing past me like I was part of the pavement. My chest tightened.

“Okay,” I whispered to myself. “Okay. This is fine.”

It wasn’t.

My luggage was gone. Every single thing I owned in the world was in those suitcases. Clothes. Shoes. Documents. My dignity. All handed over to a girl I had known for less than fifteen minutes because she had smiled nicely and called herself Penny.

I checked the spot again, as if she might magically reappear if I stared hard enough.

Nothing.

A slow, ugly truth settled in. I was lost.

I asked around in clumsy Spanish and English. No one had seen her. A man at the information desk frowned sympathetically and told me the Newton Prep bus had already left the pickup point over half an hour ago.

My stomach dropped.

So that was it. No Penny. No luggage. No school bus. Just me, my backpack, my glasses sliding down my nose, and pigtails that suddenly felt very stupid.

I walked.

I didn’t know where I was going. I just needed to move before I cried in public like a child who’d lost her mother at a mall. Salamanca unfolded around me in warm hues and sunlit balconies, but I barely noticed. My shoes rubbed painfully against my heels, each step stinging more than the last.

I rounded a corner without looking.

A sleek, dark sports car turned sharply into the street, moving faster than it had any right to. I froze. My body locked up in that useless way it does when panic hits first, and logic lags behind.

Someone shouted.

The car screeched to a stop inches away from me.

For one suspended second, everything went silent.

I yelped and stumbled back, my heart slamming so hard I thought it might break through my ribs.

The driver’s door opened immediately.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” a voice said.

A man stepped out, tall and broad-shouldered, moving with quick concern instead of anger. Sunlight caught in his hair, dark curls slightly unruly, like he hadn’t bothered to tame them this morning. His eyes were green. Not the dull kind. Bright, alive, the sort that seemed to really look at you.

My breath hitched before I could stop it.

He crouched in front of me, careful, gentle. “Are you hurt?” Concern softened his face as he reached for my elbow, steady but gentle, like he was afraid of startling me. His hands were warm.

“I didn’t see you step back,” he said, his voice calm, low, carrying an ease that immediately grounded me. “I’m really sorry.”

“I’m fine,” I blurted, pushing my glasses up and tugging nervously at my pigtails. “I mean, I think I am. I’m not dead. So that’s good.”

One corner of his mouth lifted, amused. “That is usually a good sign.”

He glanced down at my feet. “You’re bleeding.”

I looked. Of course I was. A thin line of red traced my heel where the shoe had betrayed me.

“It’s nothing,” I said quickly.

He didn’t look convinced. “Where are you headed?”

“Newton Prep,” I replied. Saying it out loud made my chest ache. “Well. I was.”

Recognition flickered across his face. “That’s quite a walk from here.”

“I noticed.”

He straightened. “I can take you.”

I stiffened instantly. “No.”

He blinked, clearly surprised. “No?”

“I don’t know you,” I said firmly, hugging my backpack closer. “And my day has already been… educational.”

He raised both hands in surrender. “Fair enough. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

There was something about the way he said it. No offense taken. No irritation. Just sincerity.

He leaned against the car instead, giving me space. “Rough day?”

“You could say that,” I muttered. “I trusted the wrong person. Lost my luggage. Missed my school transport. Almost got run over.”

He winced. “That’s a lot for one afternoon.”

“Tell me about it.”

There was a brief silence, filled with the hum of the city and the faint echo of guitar music drifting from somewhere nearby.

He pulled out his phone. “May I?”

I hesitated, then nodded.

He made a few quick calls, speaking fluent Spanish, his voice calm and confident. When he ended the last call, he looked back at me.

“An ambulance from Newton Prep is on its way,” he said. “They handle student arrivals and emergencies. They’ll get you there safely.”

I stared at him. “You did that… for me?”

He shrugged lightly. “You looked like you needed a win.”

The tension in my chest loosened just a bit.

“Thank you,” I said quietly.

He smiled then. Not cocky. Not smug. Just warm. Disarming. Dangerous.

“You’re welcome, Annalise.”

My eyes widened. “How do you know my name?”

“You dropped this,” he said, holding up my ID card.

Heat rushed to my face. “Right. Of course I did.”

The ambulance pulled up moments later, Newton Prep clearly marked on its side.

The doors opened, and a nurse stepped out to help me inside. I hesitated, looking back at him.

“Thank you,” I said. “For not… flattening me.”

He laughed softly. “You’re welcome.”

Our eyes held for a beat too long. Something unspoken lingered there—curiosity, possibility, a strange pull that made my chest feel tight in a way I didn’t dislike.

“I’m sure we’ll see each other again,” he said.

I didn’t know why, but I believed him.

As the doors closed and the ambulance pulled away, it suddenly dawned on me that he knew my name, but I didn't know his. I watched him grow smaller through the window. He stood there in the sun, curls catching the light, green eyes fixed on the road.

I still didn’t have my luggage.

I still didn’t know where Penny was.

But somehow, the day no longer felt like a complete disaster.