She wore a blue pleated skirt and had skinny legs. I looked up, trying to conceal my nervousness. It wasn’t Sachi Aoyama, who’d secretly had my fancy since third grade. It wasn’t Saya Mochizuki, who tilted her head and smiled at me whenever we met in the library. Looking altogether too serious, it was Kiriko Hizumi, asking “Do you want to go home together?” Kiriko was a memorable girl, with hair cut to the exact length to hang above her eyebrows. She was shy, only ever talking in a whispery voice, wearing an awkward smile she looked ashamed to be having. Her grades were average, too, so she really didn’t catch anyone’s eye. It was a total mystery why she, who had almost never held a conversation worth calling a conversation with me, came to talk to me today. I was secretly disappointed that it hadn’t been Sachi Aoyama or Saya Mochizuki. But I had no reason to refuse her, either. “Sure, I guess,” I told her, and she smiled. “Thanks,” she replied, head still lowered. Kiriko didn’t say a word the entire trip home. She walked at my side looking incredibly nervous, and occasionally shot glances at me as if she had something to say. I didn’t know what we could possibly talk about, either. What’s someone who’ll be out of here tomorrow supposed to say to someone who’s hardly even an acquaintance? Not to mention, I’d never walked home together with a girl my age before. With much bashfulness between the both of us, we arrived at my house still having not said a single thing to each other. “Well, bye.” I shyly waved at Kiriko and turned to grab the doorknob. Then at last, she seemed to muster some resolve and grabbed my hand. “Wait.”