The movie was a blurry memory, a jumble of dialogues and actions in between moments when our hands touched. I felt disappointed when the credits finally appeared. We had no excuse for contact and I wanted so much to hold his hand. I looked at him as we stood and wondered if he was just as disappointed as I was. We strolled lazily out of the cinema, lingering at shops and trying to stretch our time together. As we neared the bus stop, I was disappointed to see that my bus was almost there. I had no excuse to stay and chat with him longer. I was about to say goodbye when he started walking with me to the bus stop. I looked at him, confused.
“I’ll take you home.”
“But you’ll be late getting home,” I said tentatively, wanting him to come with me.
“That’s okay. I’ll send mother a text messag
