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We locked eyes during that impromptu salsa lesson on the Bethesda Terrace. I stepped on your foot, you laughed, and then you melted into the crowd with the rhythm still going.

We reached for the same copy of “Catcher in the Rye” and laughed. You said it was the universe telling us to read together, but your friend pulled you away before I could get your name.

You offered me your umbrella at Astor Place, but got off before I could thank you—or return it. If you see someone running around with a navy blue umbrella and a lost look, that’s me.