They say everyone has one moment they never forget. I don't remember mine. But he did. Three years ago, he said. A street corner. A boy in a red hoodie. Hair soaked from the rain. Tired eyes. A laugh. That was what stuck with him-the laugh. I guess that boy was me. I guess I smiled back then. I don't remember any of it. I don't remember him. He says I laughed at a busker's stupid joke. That I made his heart do something stupid. But by the time he turned back, I was gone. I never got the name. Neither did he. He tried to forget, he told me. Until he saw me again-here, behind the counter. Same voice. Same spark. But I didn't recognize him. And it pissed him off.

No handshake. No follow-up question. No interest in the fact that Teo had just made a whole fool of himself in front of the most 'stoic', 'expressionless', 'emotionally allergic to reactions' person he had ever met.