Amy was already there when Ephram shuffled his way to the back of the bleachers. Amy smiled as she stepped forward and took his hand.

"This way," she whispered, backing up slowly. She was leading him to the underbelly of the seats, carefully out of sight of anyone who might be watching. When she was satisfied no one would see, she stopped and smiled girlishly. "So, are you going to tell me what's wrong, or do I have to guess?"

"What do you mean, what's wrong?" Ephram asked slowly, studying her face. He knew Amy was attempting to hide this meeting, but he wondered if it was because she was truly ashamed of him or just didn't want any rumors tracing back to Colin.

Amy shrugged her thin shoulders as she leaned against the metal framework of the bleachers. She bit a nail unconsciously as she looked at him. "I just wanted you to relax, Ephram. Chill out. Enjoy the time we have together."

"So this is what you call 'quality time'?" Ephram asked, smiling slightly and raising an eyebrow. Amy laughed as she pulled her parka closer to her body.

"Yes, Ephram. This is our quality time." For a moment, Amy just stood there, smiling prettily at Ephram. His smile faded into an expression somewhere between hurt and contentment. Amy stepped forward and took his hands in hers while she leaned in to whisper, "Our time."

Ephram had left his gloves in his locker and the bitter November air had a distinct bite to it, making his hands deathly cold. Amy shivered mockingly while she smiled. "Your hands are cold, Ephram."

"I know," he grinned sheepishly, suddenly very embarrassed that he hadn't remembered his gloves. "I left my glo—"

Amy's face thrust forward into his, an action on Amy's behalf that Ephram did not object to. Instead, he pushed down the images in his head—images of Amy and Colin—and kissed the young girl with a simple passion that surprised even her. Her hands slid up his arms and settled at the base of his neck. Ephram's hands gravitated naturally to Amy's waist, although his large hands quickly enveloped her tiny hips.

"Amy Abbott! Amy Ni-cole!"

Amy tore her lips from Ephram's, much to his disappointment. He had just gotten into the full feeling of the kiss when she'd broken off. He stared at her wordlessly as her eyes darted around, looking for the name shouter.

"What?" She shouted back cautiously. Her arms were still around Ephram, her body still next to his.

So close, he mused. Yet so far away. Before she had a chance to pull away completely from him, he stepped away. She looked half disappointed, but her fear of being discovered with Ephram was a bigger concern at the moment.

"C'mon. We need to get home." The voice was clearer now, louder and easily recognizable: it was Bright, and he didn't sound very happy.

Amy stepped into Ephram and looked into his eyes. "See you tomorrow, Ephram." Standing on her tip toes, she planted a quick kiss on his cheek, whirled around, and ran off. The way her hair bounced as she disappeared reminded Ephram of a skittish deer disappearing once discovered.

When Amy was gone, he sighed. It always ended like this. No matter what Amy and he were doing, they were always interrupted and cut short. Every time he got that close to her, psychically or emotionally, his hopes began to build frantically. His false hopes always made him feel that maybe this time it was different, that this time he and Amy could have a sporting chance.

But it always ended the same. Ephram would stand and watch Amy walk away, feeling deflated and used. In his anger and disappointed hurt, he always swore it would never happen again… That he wouldn't even let Amy make him feel like that again, that he would come when she called like an obedient puppy. But every time he did, making him feel more used than the last time.

"You'd think I'd learn," Ephram said bitterly, glaring the metal around him. Inwardly, he kicked himself for being so foolish. With a deep sigh, Ephram turned and began his lonely trek back to the school to pick up his bike so he could go home.

The ride home was not nearly as cold as the trip to school had been that morning. Ephram wondered idly if it was because the temperature had really changed, or if the imagined warmth was coming from himself, emanating from part of his skin that Amy had touched.