We met years before we actually even spoke. I was best friends with Dylan’s sister, Brooklyn. Dylan worked at the local Mexican restaurant as a waiter. My mom and I had seen him so many times. Dylan was nice but never out of his way. One day, I forgot my cup on the table and he made the effort to bring it to me. My mom told me, “I think he likes you”. I replied, “I’m not his type” and the rest is history.