“Hey, Liz?” “Yeah, Hugh?” “Can I ask you a question?” “Of course.” “Do you think it would be all right”—his voice was low and full of uncertainty—“if I held your hand?” “You always hold my hand, silly.” “Yeah, but do you think it would be okay if I was the only boy who got to hold your hand?” “Yeah.” A delicious ripple of excitement racked through me. “That would be more than okay.”
