Deryn's hands are tucked into her pocket as she walks alongside the dark-haired boy, who is walking along just as awkwardly.
"Um," says Alek. "So what do boy-girl friends normally do?" Then, flushing as he realizes what he's said, he amends, "Like, boys and girls who are friends. Just friends."
Hearing it makes her stomach drop, but Deryn chastises herself for pouting just because he thinks nothing more of her than a friend. "They talk," she says. "About things they have in common, I guess."
Vaguely, she remembers once asking Alek about his real life friends. He had taken a while to answer, and he had only said that he didn't have any. Deryn had told him that she would always be his friend.
It makes sense to her, now that she knows who he really is, and her promise still stands; she will always be his friend. Deryn doesn't know if Alek is hers anymore, though.
They are walking by the little stream that traverses under a bridge, silently. Sparrows squawk from the nests on the trees; the leaves on them are a brilliant green, like the eyes of a certain boy. It's a beautiful, warm day, the smell of the freshly cut grass mingling with the sugary scent of wild flowers.
Deryn hates it.
Something has to happen, something has to break the spell, something has to stop this barking silence.
And that's when the dog falls on her head.