west side of Mott St, below Canal St
For art class, on Valentine's Day, of course everyone had to cut paper hearts. The teacher was going to pin them to the wall for a mosaic of hearts. You cut half a dozen in the time it took everyone else to make one. As you were waiting for everyone to catch up, you idly picked up a fallen scrap of the bright red paper and carefully cut me out. Instead of handing me over to the teacher, you tucked me inside a school notebook to save for later.
Later, we were walking back home through the crowded streets of Chinatown. You're always jostled walking through Chinatown, but it doesn't bother you, you just push back. Halfway down the street, someone bumped you, pretty hard. I had been peeking out the side of your backpack where the zipper wasn't fully closed. The bump surprised me and I fell to the ground. You forgot all about me by the time you got home, grandma had made soup dumplings again and you were hungry.
For the rest of the day, I lay in fear of being trampled on this busy sidewalk in Chinatown, but somehow, everyone moved to the side, not wanting to stomp on a lost heart.