"She loves me," he recited, and the petal twirled towards the ground as he let it go. "She loves me not, she loves me," the same quotations repeatedly fell from his lips until he was left with one petal, and he dully responded with, "She loves me not."
"She doesn't know," a second voice chimed in.
Dark hair fell across his eyes, as he whirled around. In the process, he hit his knee against the rock he was leaning against, and muttered a curse beneath his breath, but froze at familiar laughter. Hazel eyes stared doubtfully across the gravel road.
"Amy?"
Amy Abbott offered him a smile and trudged her way across the road. "She doesn't know," she repeated, grinning. "Maybe... given time... and effort," she added teasingly, "you can woo her properly."
Ephram bit his lip, "Are you for real?"
"Yes, silly," Amy laughed. "As real as any other girl, Ephram Brown. Now," she smirked, "aren't you going to start this 'wooing?'"
And Ephram needed no other encouragement and pressed his lips against her's.