Ryan kept one hand in his jacket pocket where he held tightly to his lighter, smoothing his thumb against the metal casing and constantly flicking the lid open and closed. The only time heâd stop fidgeting with the lighter was when he needed to wipe his nose with his jacket sleeve.
âIâm not crying, itâs just allergies,â he suddenly decided to clarify this time when he did, though no one asked.
Pumpkin stood awkwardly next to the boy, looking around the hallway as her hands fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. She could feel her heart beating on the inside of her chest and she could hear it in her ears.Â
âOh.â She nodded, her eyes flicking up to look at his face briefly. âYeah, I think theyâre supposed to be really bad this year.â