She’d become self-conscious and shy around him and he didn’t know when that had crept in, but the sense of losing her was sharp. She told him less and less about her life, so whenever she sang and played guitar with other young people in the square, he took his chance. Sometimes he’d rush to the window and throw open the shutters just to learn about her—what interested her, what moved her, what made her angry. Recently there’d been a lot about love. There was so much to keep up with. He just wanted her to finish school.
