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Tell me your story. It lingered in my mind as Annie and I penguin-walked through the narrow aisle and found our seats in the back of the plane. Compared to the sweltering South Carolina morning, the plane was an ice box. “So,” I said as I pulled my travel jacket out of my backpack, then kicked the bag under the seat in front of me. “You wanna know how I became the great Miles Zhou.” Annie rubbed her hands together like a greedy little word gremlin. “Should I take notes?” “Only if you plan on making me an unbeatable book boyfriend.” “Look at you, knowing the lingo,” she said proudly. I unfurled
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