I met this girl, Helen, through fellow newspaper guy Nick Hurley. He'd met her at a newspaper camp that I could not attend (I was working). He kept in correspondence and asked her to Prom the next year.

Meanwhile, in Kip's life, I'd gotten my heart cored out by Gwyneth ("But we're still going to Prom right?" Side note: the thing that killed that relationship was me liking her more than she reciprocated. Which I realize now is a trend.) So, I take Gwyneth, Nick takes Helen and the rest is history. I spend the night trying to win back Gwyneth, Gwyneth spends the night ignoring or running away from me, and Nick leaves the dance to get film for newspaper photos of Prom (and to show off to Helen that he can leave Prom and come back, which is usually a big no-no). So, I'm here at the table, Gwyneth's hiding with some friend a few tables over, and Helen and I are looking at each other.

I say hi, how ya doin', I remember you from some newspaper conference (which I did). We get to talking, and get along. We hit it off so well that even when Gwyneth ditches me for Post-Prom, I'm not that heartbroken. well, a little annoyed. Not too badly hurt. We say goodnight.

Let me describe this girl I've found. Helen looks like... Helen Hunt in a way. Actually, more like the girl from the Truman Show (Laura Linney), if you saw it. She's got this way of hair flipping that drives me nuts. And she smiles easily. And laughs easier. If that's possible.

 

About a week later, I ask Nick for Helen's email. He says, "What, you going to steal her from me?" But he obviously doesn't see asian ole me as a threat cuz he gives it to me. I email her, she emails back, and I think that's where it's history. Well, really not. I emailed her every day. She emailed back. They're funny. (That's the bulk of what I was reading last night.) I'm witty, she's witty, we're innocent. Then one day, I ask for her phone number, to call her. She gives it. And that's where history comes in.

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