"Fuck." Matt threw his hands up and sat down on the grass and lit a cigarette. "I'm not stupid. I can actually learn, if you tell me what the fuck I'm supposed to be learning. But fine, whatever."
He paused - the clearing really was nice - and finally said "I met Harry on New Year's Eve 1999, but since I was fucking drunk at the time, I probably didn't say anything worth remembering until 2000." More like he didn't remember what had been said, until memory flipped a card, and he added, smiling in surprise, "We were gonna go be rally racers. Cars, you know, drive them across the desert and race."