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" I WAS IN MY BED AT BRANDON&amp;#039;S BEACH house, and I was dreaming. In my dream, Christopher had come to rescue me. He wasn&amp;#039;t, it turned out, mad about the whole thing where I&amp;#039;d told him I loved Brandon and not him. Quite the opposite, in fact. Our reunion was joyful\u2026and passionate. In my dream, Christopher was kissing me\u2026gently at first, playful kisses on the lips, light as the down feathers in the comforter that I&amp;#039;d already pushed past my bare thighs. I opened my eyes with a gasp to find a hand pressed to my mouth. This was no dream. This was really happening. I knew who it was, of course. Who else could it have been? Who else had been trying my doorknob (unsuccessfully, since I&amp;#039;d been careful about locking it every night) all week? The hand over my mouth was masculine. I could tell that just by its size and heaviness, even if, in the darkness of my room, I couldn&amp;#039;t see who owned it. So of course I did the only thing I was able to: I clamped down on it with my teeth as hard as I could. What else was I going to do? Brandon had snuck into my room in the middle of the night to do what guys like Brandon do to girls when they&amp;#039;re asleep. How dare he try to take advantage of me when I was dreaming about someone else? Someone I actually liked\u2026 I bit down and didn&amp;#039;t let go until I heard bones crunch. &amp;quot;Ow. Jesus, Em!&amp;quot; the voice cried in a hoarse whisper. The hand ripped away from my face, and for a second, I heard the sound of leather rubbing on leather\u2026a sleeve lifting away from the body of a jacket as someone waved his hand back and forth. Wait. My sleep-muddled mind tried to make sense of this. Why would Brandon be wearing a leather jacket inside? &amp;quot;What did you go and bite me for?&amp;quot; Christopher wanted to know. My mind reeled. Christopher? In my room? Here, at Brandon&amp;#039;s house? What was Christopher doing here? How had he gotten in? Had I not been dreaming after all? Had he really been kissing me? I sat up so fast, I jostled Cosabella, who&amp;#039;d been curled against my neck. &amp;quot;Christopher?&amp;quot; I whispered. &amp;quot;Is that really you? Oh, my God, did I hurt you? Are you bleeding?&amp;quot; &amp;quot;Of course it&amp;#039;s really me,&amp;quot; he whispered. He sounded so annoyed, I wanted to grab his face and go back to kissing it, just like in my dream\u2026if that had really been a dream, and not real. Only Christopher could sound that irritated with me. Wonderful, amazing, easily annoyed Christopher. &amp;quot;Who else would it be? And don&amp;#039;t tell me Stark has been sneaking in here. Was that why the door was locked? I had to use my library card to jimmy the lock. Seriously, if he&amp;#039;s been trying to get in here, I&amp;#039;ll kill him \u2014&amp;quot; I forgot that I was supposed to be giving Christopher the cold shoulder, on pain of Brandon destroying every thing and everyone I loved. I forgot that I was supposed to be pretending that Brandon and I were an item now. I was so overwhelmed at finding Christopher sitting on the side of my bed, just like in my dream, that I threw my arms around him, pulling him close and swearing to myself that I was never going to let him go. I didn&amp;#039;t even care that the metal rivets and zipper of his leather jacket were icy cold against the parts of my bare skin that weren&amp;#039;t covered by the matching pink tank top and sleep boxers I was wearing. Just like in my dream. &amp;quot;Oh, my God, Christopher,&amp;quot; I whispered, breathing the crisp outdoorsy scent that was still clinging to his short hair. &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m so glad to see you.&amp;quot; &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m glad to see you, too,&amp;quot; he said, putting his arms around me to hug me back. Hard. &amp;quot;And don&amp;#039;t worry about my hand. I&amp;#039;m sure it&amp;#039;s just a flesh wound.&amp;quot; I laughed. I think I was semihysterical. But I didn&amp;#039;t care. It felt so good to be in his embrace. Christopher. Christopher was here. &amp;quot;But what are you doing here?&amp;quot; I whispered. &amp;quot;Did you really think I&amp;#039;d believe you, of all people, were in love with Brandon Stark?&amp;quot; he asked in a softly chiding voice. &amp;quot;It may have taken me a while to figure out who you really are now, Em. But give me some credit. And now that I do know it&amp;#039;s you, I&amp;#039;m certainly not going to let you go that easily.&amp;quot; He leaned down and kissed me, and I realized, as our lips touched, that I hadn&amp;#039;t been dreaming\u2026that really had been him kissing me. Kissing me awake. No wonder I&amp;#039;d been so hot\u2026 &amp;quot;Christopher,&amp;quot; I said breathlessly, pulling my lips from his. It was the hardest thing I think I&amp;#039;d ever had to do. In the darkened room, there was nothing I wanted to do more than just let him keep doing what he was doing. But I couldn&amp;#039;t. Someone had to stay sane. And I had a pretty good idea that it wasn&amp;#039;t going to be him. &amp;quot;We have to focus,&amp;quot; I said. &amp;quot;Focus,&amp;quot; he repeated. I could see that his blue eyes, so close to mine, were half-lidded and looked dazed. &amp;quot;Definitely.&amp;quot; He lowered his head to kiss me again. But as much as I longed to let him, I knew I couldn&amp;#039;t. &amp;quot;No.&amp;quot; I ducked out from beneath him and moved to the far side of the bed, where Cosabella was sitting, licking herself. I pulled her onto my lap to use her as a kind of doggy boy-defense shield. &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m serious. I&amp;#039;m happy to see you, too. But we have to talk. What are you doing here?&amp;quot; Christopher seemed to pull himself together. He lost the dazed look \u2014 well, some of it \u2014 and said, sitting up straighter, &amp;quot;I think it should be obvious what I&amp;#039;m doing here, Em. I&amp;#039;m here to rescue you.&amp;quot; From Runaway: An Airhead Novel by Meg Cabot. Scholastic Inc./Point. Copyright \u00A9 2010 by Meg Cabot. Used by permission. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
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