“When she got here, she looked like that.” I realized that I was looking at his exact recollection of Alexandria from four years ago. Her hair was brown, with mistake-bangs, and she had crooked eyeteeth. She was smiling a wide, excited, can-I-sit-with-you smile. Her uniform shirt was misbuttoned. Her face was younger, that on-the-cusp face that girls get when they’re one summer away from coltish. She was pretty, sweet-looking. Her eyes weren’t shuttered yet.
