Rory could feel his face flush red hot as he ran down Amy's stairs and out her front door. He scolded himself for looking like such an idiot, not even being able to answer Amy when she asked him what girl he'd every paid the slightest bit of attention to. Of course it was her, it was always Amy, and now she knew. His car was only a few paces down her path. If he ran fast enough he could get into the car and drive home without ever having to face Amy again that night. The next time he saw Mels she was going to have a piece of his mind. How could she embarrass him like that? She knew how sensitive he was, and now, the next time he saw Amy she was probably going to laugh at him. There goes Rory, so unappealing to girls that I thought he was gay, and too shy to even tell me he loved me.
He had his hand on the handle of his car when he heard her shouting his name in that loud Scottish accent, feet pounding on the steps, and later, on the stones of the path.
"Rory!" she shouted. "Rory wait!"
Rory was very tempted to get into the car and drive away, but he knew nothing could stop Amy Pond when she wanted something, and he begrudgingly turned back to face her. She slowed down, breath slightly audibly from her quick sprint down the stairs, and looked up at him smiling.
"Good, I caught you," she said, and Rory found himself avoiding her eye contact quite successfully. After another pause, she kept speaking, that impossible smile on her face that he'd grown to love. Right now, though, it just made his stomach sick with nervousness and embarrassment.
"So," she said. "When were you going to tell me?"
"What do you mean?" he asked quietly.
"Oh, you know," she said, and when he didn't respond she kept talking. "That you liked me. Why didn't you tell me?"
"I-" Rory suddenly found the task of talking a rather daunting one, and kept his voice just above a whisper out of the sheer energy it took for him to even form words. "I was afraid."
He hated hearing the words out of his mouth, even though they were true, knowing that Amy would probably laugh at him the second they left his mouth. Though, much to his surprise, she didn't. Instead, she gave him a smile and put on a rather confident voice.
"Well, I'll phone you tomorrow then, so you can figure out where you're taking me."
"What?" he asked again, rather unsure of where this conversation was going.
"It's called a date, Rory, ever heard of it?" she asked with a laugh, and he returned her laugh with a rather lame one on his part.
Rory wasn't sure how to respond, feeling as if his breath had been sucked out of his lungs with a vacuum.
"Y-yeah," he said finally, attempting to make eye contact with her for the first time during their conversation, but the sight of her face only caused his cheeks to blush a deep red. She laughed again, that wonderful, cheerful laugh that could make him smile on his worst day, and punched his arm playfully.
"See you tomorrow, stupid face," she said, and walked back into the house