So how come we never met before now?

We did meet. Nineteen years ago. I was 8, you were 9. Outside the temple.

I don't remember.

The Wong boys were taunting me about my parents' divorce. You beat the crap out of them. You were wearing a Kristy McNichol t-shirt, tan cords and a pageboy. You spilled your mom's groceries. We scooped them into a bag.

That's right, and then —

And then I kissed you on the nose. And you ran.

— alice wu, saving face