He leans down, all six and a half feet of him bowing toward me, crowding me, making it impossible to breathe. His lips barely graze my ear, making me gasp and tremble. “What are you hiding from me, minha borboleta?”

Oh Lord, what did he just call me? And more importantly, did he just speak Portuguese?

Before I get the chance to answer, he pulls out the travel book I hastily shoved into my backpack.

“Hey!” I exclaim, jumping up from my seat and trying to grab it from his hand. Of course, I’m not even close to reaching, since he’s holding it above his head. “Give it back, jerk!...