Where was she? She was over an hour late, which was unlike her. Usually he could count on her being early, like him—waving excitedly as she jumped out of the water. The last time, she’d accidentally jumped straight into his arms. He’d held her for an instant, breathing in the sweetness of her hair, before they shyly parted. But at the end of their time together, they’d held hands. Had he gotten the date wrong? Or the time? Or had she changed his mind about him? Maybe she didn’t like the books he’d brought, or the chocolate cake. Or maybe she’d found his lesson on tying sailors’ knots
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Definitivamente amo las prespectivas de Eric.
