“This seat taken?” Startled from the sudden intrusion, I turned to see Joey Lynch take a seat on the grassy embankment beside me. “Why are you crying, kid?” Sniffling, I quickly batted the tears from my cheeks and cleared my throat. “I’m not.” He arched a disbelieving brow but made no further comment. In his hands, he held a battered-looking Discman. Instantly distracted by his presence, I turned my attention to the sound of music drifting from the tiny earbuds in his ears. “What are you listening to?” He didn’t respond; instead, he took his right earbud out and handed it to me. When I pressed
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