We were sitting outside the coffeehouse, right after I had finished closing the store, and he was listening to me reminiscing about my profound love for J.D. Salinger, and how I had read The Catcher in the Rye at least six times. I explained to him that it just gets better everytime I read it. I told him that he should read it. He said he already had...I told him to read it again.

"I really wish that I had a copy of Catcher on me, I have at least five copies at home, but that would require me to go through all of my storage boxes to find it. I have this urge to read it again."

"Give me your hand."

"Why?"

He smiled coyly. "Just give me your hand, Aki."

Curious and reluctantly, I handed over my hand.

He stuck my hand into his bag. I fumbled around for awhile until I clutched the outline of a book.

When I pulled it out, it was a copy of Catcher in the Rye.

I looked up at him and he smiled.

How could I not possibly feel anything else except absolute adoration for him?

Morrissey--Smiths