“Can I help you?” I muttered, looking up at the stranger blocking my view—a tall, gangly guy who looked to be about my age.
He grinned at me, stained brown teeth flashing before my eyes. “Yes, you can. Let’s start with you telling me your name, sweet pea?” He said.
“Hazel,” I answered impatiently. I tried to peek around him again but I couldn’t see a thing. I gave him an impatient look. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”
He smirked. “No, but I’d certainly like to know you better.” His eyes roved up and down my body suggestively.
Bile rose in my stomach. “Sorry, I don’t want to get to know you,” I said quickly, turning away from him. I picked up my fork again, making a show of focusing on my food.
Suddenly, a hand clamped on mine. I dropped my fork with a loud yelp. “What do you think you are doing? Let go of me!” I exclaimed, trying to yank my hand out of his grasp.
“Now. Now. Is that a good way to treat a new friend?” He drawled, holding my hand securely.
