A while ago, I came across my high school notebook. It was full of references to “Mr. L” and “happy.” In fact, I haven’t been in touch with Mr. L for four years, and I’ve almost forgotten what happened back then, including what he looked like. But our high school crushes are like pieces of candy in our memories of the future: a flavor we can never hope to find again, no matter how hard we try. I’ve revised the notebook I kept four years ago, and dedicate this story to the person who became someone I “couldn’t hide.”
