From the first moment that I saw Dieter Madison, I loved him.

There he was, the proverbial new guy, with a chip on his shoulder and the face of an angel. As our eyes met from across the classroom that first day of our junior year of high school, I knew that he had to be mine. He looked like a perfect combination of Kurt Cobain and the only other man to hold my heart in a vice grip, Martin Gore of my favorite band, Depeche Mode. Then, I saw the DM sticker on his binder.

Needless to say, my faith in destiny was completely affirmed.

So, with a feeling of complete helplessness, I watched as an angry man hauled Dieter into a truck. Before getting into the driver’s seat, the man turned to me. His eyes burned holes through me, and I turned away. As he sped off, I saw Dieter’s head jerk as if he’d been slapped.

The last thing that Dieter said before the man brought his truck to a dead stop where we stood was, “Oh God…it’s my father.”