The cab slowly turned onto 82nd Street and parked directly in front of the Cricket Shoppe, a little gem of a family restaurant in the midst of downtown. I stood outside the store front, hearing the bustle of coffee goers and diners in the open patio behind me.

I watched each car go by, preparing myself for Leon’s arrival. The last time I had seen him, we had just finished a spontaneous makeout session; I wasn’t entirely sure how today would go, and being around him and his ...