And inside it, two people. A chill steals through me—not at all an unpleasant one—when I recognize that he’s positioned us exactly the way I envisioned. I’m behind the counter; he’s seated opposite, in the second-to-last stool. We’re leaning toward each other slightly, enough to notice. He’s exaggerated the messiness of his hair while downplaying his broadness and height, as though he views himself as smaller and slighter than he actually is.
