RYAN
Amy was quiet during the walk. She kept smiling to herself, her eyes distant, but she would squeeze my hand every so often as if to reassure me she was still present. I wondered what she was thinking about but for some reason was afraid to ask. She briefly shot me a mischievous look from under her lashes. I raised an eyebrow at her and she just laughed.
Unable to take it anymore, I finally blurted out, “What on Earth are you thinking?” A blush flooded her cheeks as she stuttered something incomprehensibly. “I have no idea what you just said.” Her hand toyed with the strap of her backpack uncomfortably. She chewed on her lower lip. “Amy,” I said in a low voice. “You’re scaring me.” She turned redder, if that was possible. I got the feeling I knew what she was thinking about now, but
