CHAPTER 10

“Invisible String” – Taylor Swift

I MEET LUCA THE FOLLOWING evening at the resort’s seafront to set up everything for our makeshift bonfire. To my delight, the spot Enrique suggested really is covered in twinkling lights.

I try my best to contribute, although it’s not that easy considering how my mind’s still on the hike and specifically what followed after it.

Enrique and I shared a somewhat less awkward kiss when he dropped me off.

Actually, it was pretty hot. Well, after the first minute or so, considering I’m the one who initiated the kiss. Which I assumed was what Enrique wanted anyway, given how I stopped our first one, and that he seemed pretty enthusiastic about the whole thing as soon as our lips touched again.

Luca must notice my sluggish pace and wistful smile as I’m placing the blankets onto the sand when he takes a guess, “Either those blankets are more interesting than I thought, or things are going pretty well since yesterday.”

Lifting my dazed grin, I reply, “Things are going better than I thought for once.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

“But, there are some moments where I notice things get quiet, and it feels awkward. Then I become even more awkward trying to figure out if there is something else I need to say. And then I can’t stop talking.”

“ You? Continuously talking?” He raises a brow at me. “If you’re going to lie, at least try to be more realistic about it.”

Luca has this tendency to make me want to roll my eyes and laugh at the same time, all while forgetting what I was even talking about in the first place. Like right now .

But I have to admit, it helps when I start to get in my head about things.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about awkward silence,” he adds. “It sounds like you’re getting along just fine.”

Remembering his initial reaction to my awkwardness around his friend, I ask, “Were you entertained by how badly I was struggling to make a move on Enrique?”

Luca meets my eyes. “I didn’t mean to look like I was laughing at you. I’m sorry if it came across that way.”

My smile quickly fades.

I recall how he told me that he’d never make fun of my lack of experience, and then immediately feel shitty for even making the joke.

“Honestly, it’s probably a good thing that I felt embarrassed. It helped me get over myself a little and not take things as seriously. So thank you I guess?” I smile .

When he doesn’t really return the gesture and instead almost forces himself to smile back, I wish I hadn’t even said that.

I try to distract myself with the blankets again, when Luca’s voice startles me. “How are your cramps by the way?”

My heart jumps a little. “Oh they’re gone now. Thanks for asking.”

He nods as he continues to prepare everything.

My stomach fills with warmth at the idea that someone was wondering if I was okay.

Before I can reanalyze our whole conversation, their friends including Clara, arrive shortly after, with Enrique coming last. I watch as he goes behind Sofia and messes up her hair, to which she flips him off as he laughs. Something about this interaction looks so natural, so easy . I find myself wondering why it’s so hard for me, why I can’t flirt like that. Then I catch myself. They weren’t flirting. Were they?

I shake the thought out of my head as Enrique approaches and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek. He sets down the large containers of food he brought with him before making sure everyone has their plates.

I feel nerves start to set in, but they vanish as soon as I take a bite of the steak he prepared. “Okay,” I say, eyes widening, “this might be the best steak I’ve ever had.”

“You’re only feeding my ego with that,” he says with a smirk. “Thank you though.”

“I love it. I just need to try some of your dessert next.” Real fucking smooth, Jasmine. “I’m sure you know by now how it’s a habit of mine to say the most random shit ever.” This is good. At least now I’m addressing it.

His brows crease amusedly. “What are you talking about? I think you’re hilarious. ”

“Be careful,” I warn. “I’m afraid there’s plenty more of that coming your way.”

“I for one cannot wait,” he says as he clicks my glass for a toast, when the side of his hand touches mine.

Remembering his scar, I softly brush along his thumb the way I used to daydream about. When my timid eyes meet his more relaxed ones, I ask, “How did you get this scar?”

He looks down at our hands. “Oh, you just noticed it?”

“No,” I admit. “I noticed it in college.”

“You noticed it back then?” he says.

When my nerves creep up again, I try to nonchalantly explain, “It’s hard not to notice someone’s hands when you’re helping them write a twenty-page essay.”

“Good point.” Enrique glances at his finger again as if remembering the time he got it. “When I tried to cook my first ever real meal from scratch.”

“Are you like a chef or something?” I tease.

He chuckles. “Not really. It would be cool to do that one day though.” His lips form a frown. “I don’t exactly have the time to do it right now.”

I don’t know why hearing this comforts me in a way. Finding it almost bizarre how even someone like him who has a stable job making probably good money is still left wanting something more in line with his interests. I guess it just makes me relate to him more in a way.

I smile and offer, “Well, when you decide that’s something you want to do, you’d be fantastic at it. And I’d like an invitation to your restaurant please.”

“That’s a given,” he says. “I’ve been actually planning the menu for the wedding recently, and this steak is one of the options. My team’s trying to test it out as much as we can before the day. ”

For some reason in this exact moment, it dawns on me how Enrique never ended up checking in on me. It’s probably since it just came to my attention that his best friend cared more about my well-being than he did.

As if a magnet is pulling me, I look over my shoulder only briefly and spot Luca sitting next to his friends, everyone laughing. I’m about to turn back when I notice Luca glances up.

We lock eyes, and my entire body freezes. I don’t feel if my heart is beating particularly faster or slower. Or any other feeling I could be sensing. It’s like time has stopped for a moment. The sudden fluttering in my chest only grows when he doesn’t look away first. I blink rapidly, as if removing myself from a daze, before turning my attention back to the conversation I was in.

I shake my head a couple times to regain my composure as if electricity didn’t just run through my body. “Oh right, I remember you mentioned a wedding before. When is it again?”

“Next week,” Enrique replies so casually, making me wonder how he didn’t notice my attention moved away like that a second ago.

There’s no time to think about this any further when he suggests we move closer to where the rest of their friends are. Where Luca also happens to be sitting.

As we walk over, my hands start to shake again, this time more intensely. But with less nerves. More anticipation.

We sit down beside the rocks on the shore, when Enrique asks, “Do you guys want to have a movie night tomorrow?”

Luca nods. “I heard it’s going to rain tomorrow so that works great.”

“Is Sofia going to be there too?” I ask, looking over at Sofia, who’s sitting in the opposite corner with her friends at the moment .

“Yeah. I asked her before, and she said she’s pretty sure she’s free. So it would just be the four of us,” Enrique replies. “It hasn’t rained here in so long, so it’ll be nice.”

Before I know what’s happening, a guitar is being handed to Luca by one of his friends. He accepts it with a knowing smile and settles it on his lap. “Jasmine…,” he says, his voice startling me. More so his sudden mischievous tone.

“What?” I ask with a fluttering heart.

“Would you like me to serenade you?” he deadpans.

“My standards are pretty high so I’d save yourself the embarrassment,” I say, trying to sound unbothered, even though the question itself was the most romantic thing I’ve been asked before. Also wondering how many beers he had for such an unexpected question, only seeing one by his ankle.

Luca pretends to look offended as he covers his heart in shock. And somehow a lack of a verbal response makes me squirm even more .

“Don’t let him fool you,” Enrique says. “He’s actually pretty good on the guitar.”

Now I’m intrigued.

“You don’t say?” I tell Enrique, while glaring shrewdly back at Luca, who definitely looks more laid back than before.

Luca takes a deep breath before placing his fingers so seriously along the strings. The suspense keeps building until he actually plays his first note.

It’s probably the most out of tune sound I’ve ever heard, to which his other friend immediately tugs the guitar away from him, while they both laugh into oblivion.

My chest fills with a warmth, noting how this almost resembles a moment that I could have experienced in college, for once feeling a bit closer to those my age. No longer an outsider looking in through her imagination.

I must also be pretty tired when I look over my shoulder and don’t even seem to care how Clara has made her way into another conversation with Enrique.

The sound of the guitar gains my attention again.

Except this sounds way more in tune than before.

Actually, it sounds really pretty.

Luca’s playing a melody I can’t seem to recognize, yet it also sounds familiar at the same time.

“Guess the song,” he says, before glancing up at me in the blink of an eye, and then back to his guitar.

Freezing yet again, I wonder how long he realizes that I was watching him for. I hope not more than a few seconds. To be fair, it’s not my fault that he’s wearing his university sweatshirt that’s fitting him like skin.

As soon as he plays the first few notes, I hum along and answer, “‘Invisible String.’”

“Are you sure about that?” he challenges, narrowing his eyes at me cockily.

“If a Folklore song plays, I recognize it,” I say confidently.

But now it doesn’t sound like “Invisible String” anymore.

It’s then when I recognize one of my favorite bridges. He’s playing another Taylor Swift favorite: “Daylight.”

Gasping at how the melody sounds even more ethereal like this, I confess, “Are you trying to make me cry?”

“Should I stop then?” Luca teases, while abruptly pausing the song.

“No!” I say, eyes wide.

He chuckles, and then picks up from where he left off, though not as loud. “I learned how to play this for the first time late at night.” He smiles, perplexed. “It’s odd. After playing it during the daytime, it just didn’t sound the same.”

“I know what you mean. I think it’s the juxtaposition of playing a song that embodies a golden quality when it’s dark all around you. Kinda like the message of the song if you think about it,” I say, wondering if that was a bit too much to add.

His eyes sparkle. “Yeah, that’s exactly it.”

My heart flutters again, seeing him pleased with my response. “When did you learn how to play the guitar?”

“I don’t. Not really,” he says a bit bashfully.

“Is this one of your sarcastic lines? Should I keep waiting for the punch line?”

Luca rolls his eyes with a half-smile. “No, I mean that I don’t know that many songs. I just listen to some sounds and try my best to figure out how to play them.”

“Of course you do,” I say knowingly.

He folds his arms over the top of the guitar as he stops strumming. “I want to see where you’re gonna go with this.”

I tilt my head at him. “You taught yourself how to play the guitar, you like Wuthering Heights , you’re proficient in Taylor Swift’s catalogue, you know how to surf, and you can paint like Picasso? It sounds like you really need to pick up on a hobby or two.”

He snorts. “I’ll be sure to look for something first thing tomorrow.” Then he shakes his head. “I appreciate the flattery, but you make it sound a lot more impressive than it is.”

“It is impressive,” I argue. “It took me hours just to barely stand on a surfboard.”

“You admitted that it was your first time really trying it out.”

“Still, that’s just one example. I’ve never been one for hidden talents. And my hobbies seem silly compared to yours.”

His eyes soften. “I wouldn’t say that. ”

“I love music,” I explain, “but I don’t have any musical talent, I like watching sports, but I’m terrible at them, and I adore reading stories about romance filled with all these adventures but when given the chance, I tend to steer far away from any of it actually happening.”

Luca waits to see if I’m done. “What about now ?”

“What about it?”

“Your connection to music is still evident when you’re talking about it, you kept getting back on that surfboard until you found a way to stand on it without losing balance, and as much as I initially criticized the merit behind your decision to come here, I couldn’t have been more wrong. Just that alone was pretty bold of you to do. I wouldn’t discredit that.”

He noticed all of that?

It also doesn’t sound like he’s drank more than one beer the way I initially thought.

Making sure to quickly close my lips that seem to have parted during his response, I reply, “Luca, those were all really nice things you just said. But none of them really takes much talent. I’m just trying to do normal things that I never did out of fear and a multitude of other reasons.”

“And you think facing your fears doesn’t take talent?” he challenges.

“I don’t really know many people who’d refer to that as talent,” I say.

“I know a good number of people that play instruments but aren’t really facing anything. Not everyone’s talents should look the same. For starters, I can tell how easy it is for you to talk to random people,” he adds, while gesturing toward everyone else.

“That’s because I don’t know them,” I reason. “There’s not really anything there to lose. ”

“Okay, but even that, you think that comes naturally to the average person? I don’t think so.”

Brows creased, I reply, “So I’m talented because I’m able to talk to strangers?”

“You know that’s not what I’m trying to say.” He gives me a knowing look. “You have a lot of great and nuanced traits that I think make you a really interesting person.”

“ You think I’m an interesting person?” I say, tilting my head down at him. “You could’ve fooled me.”

He bites down on his smile. “Look. That’s what I mean. I’ve never known someone for such a short period of time, but learned this much about them through them and not another person. For someone who enjoys talking as much as you do, you have a way of making people feel like they can talk to you about anything. And it’s ironic, now that I know there’s not many people that you feel you can do the same around. I think that’s talent.” He raises his eyes at me at that last part, making me revaluate everything.

Luca’s words remind me of what I’ve struggled with since I turned 18, not knowing how to access the potential that I was previously told I had. I like the idea he brings up of talent presenting itself in a variety of different forms, many of which are not really acknowledged the way that they can be.

Butterflies continue to dance around in my stomach at his compliment. “I’m sorry, but am I still talking to Luca?” When he rolls his eyes, I say, “Thank you for making me seem like I’m more talented than you.”

He gives me a side grin. “I’d bet you probably are.”

“If there’s one thing I will confidently give myself credit for in regard to talent is my gigantic imagination,” I add.

“A good imagination can get you through a lot,” he says.

“You have no idea… ”

With every exchange, this feels more vulnerable as it’s growing increasingly difficult to look into his eyes.

But I also can’t look away.

It’s addicting really. To express yourself through conversation that you would rarely ever bring up, since you can’t imagine who you’d ever tell these things to. “You know what’s one of my daydreams?” I continue.

He smirks to himself. “To sit on a rock while listening to a guy play on an out of tune guitar?”

I roll my eyes. “No. To dance with my crush in a fully lit gazebo to Taylor’s version of ‘Untouchable’ playing in the background,” I confess, demonstrating an example of my outlandish imagination. Something that if I told to the average person or even my parents, I’d be called “foolish” or “too old” for even having such a frivolous thought.

Luca just looks so amused as he rests his palm against his jaw. “You say that with so much yearning.”

“That’s because I’ve wanted it to happen since I first heard the song a million years ago,” I admit.

“It is a really pretty song,” he says.

Still impressed how he even knows the song, I continue dreaming out loud the reasoning behind my fantasy. “It’s not my fault A Cinderella Story gave me unrealistic expectations about love, and has been my reference point for romance since I was a kid.”

“Unrealistic is relative though, no?”

Okay, this is not the same Luca I first spoke to.

“Yeah, I guess it is. But I can’t think of many guys or any guys really that would suggest to ever do something like that.” I sigh, knowing deep down my fantasy will always remain, well, exactly that.

“Why not suggest it yourself then?” he says .

“Because, that takes away like half the romance of it. Part of what makes something truly romantic is when the other person goes out of their way to do something that could make you happy.”

“If you don’t communicate with the other person though,” he reasons, “how do you expect them to know what you want?”

“If you have to constantly tell someone what you want or how you feel, doesn’t that almost defeat the purpose?” I argue.

“Okay, that’s fair,” he admits. “But even if it doesn’t feel as sexy to communicate, 9 out of 10 times, it’s better so the resentment doesn’t start to kick in.”

I nod. “You’re right about communication. I do think that a lot of problems could be avoided or at least resolved if you talk about what’s bothering you.”

“I guess that’s one of our biggest flaws,” Luca says, his eye contact starting to fade away.

“What is?” I ask, intrigued and a little confused.

A trace of sadness appears in his eyes. “Knowing what our problems are but not doing anything to fix them.”

“Even worse when you’re really trying to fix them, but no one seems to notice the effort,” I add.

His voice grows quiet. “Yeah.”

The expression he makes, makes me want to cry. It felt personal . Like I wasn’t supposed to see it.

When we finally break eye contact, I spot Sofia and decide to take the opportunity to go thank her. It seems like the perfect timing to do so considering how she’s not busy at the moment, but more importantly, this is the second time tonight where I can’t really read Luca as well. He seems lost in his own thoughts, and I don’t want to ruin the nice moment we had .

Sofia’s smiling so wide when I approach her that I’m fairly certain she’s pretty tipsy. “Hey,” I say. “I wanted to thank you for what you did yesterday at the hike.”

“Of course!” she shrieks before crinkling her brows. “What did I do again?”

“How you told Enrique and me that you and Luca were going to go on another hiking trail.” Judging by the look on her face, maybe it was just a coincidence. “Wait. I think I misinterpreted that. I thought you were giving us room to be alone. I didn’t think you actually went to another trail.”

She shakes her head casually. “Oh we didn’t go to another trail. But it wasn’t my idea though.”

“It wasn’t?” I ask, confused.

“No. It was Luca’s.”

It was?

Growing more curious, I say, “Did he tell you that during the walk?”

“No,” she explains, “I called him the night before to ask him if I would just meet you all there, and at the end he suggested for us to leave for a bit during the hike.”

Her lack of specifics is only making me want to know more. “Did he say why?”

“Something about how you thought that you would be going on a date?”

Before I can ask her any more questions, a woman approaches us, stealing Sofia’s attention. Suddenly, I’m left scratching my head around the notion of whether the motive behind his gesture was just as simple as it seems.

________ _

Luca and Enrique manage to talk the entire time while we walk back to our rooms, letting my mind race.

When we reach Enrique’s room first, he looks at Luca and says, “We haven’t had a movie night in ages. This is gonna be fun.” Then redirects his attention to both of us. “See you guys tomorrow.”

I’m so in my head that I don’t expect him to kiss me in front of Luca. At least not on the lips .

The attraction hasn’t faded. So kissing him back is my reflex. But it’s the first kiss we share that feels tense and not in a good way.

When Enrique’s lips leave mine, I look at Luca to see if I can read his expression.

He looks indifferent. Not annoyed. Not happy. Nothing .

For a moment, I was wondering if Luca was uncomfortable. But then again, why would he be? Anything I might be thinking of right now must be just in my head. The way most things usually are.

As Luca and I start walking back to our suites, he receives a phone call.

This is good. This gives me more time to gather my thoughts. But it also lasts a few seconds, when his voice now distracts me from my inner dialogue once I hear him start speaking in Spanish.

He already has a nice voice. Slightly deep. Hearing it in Spanish though, is an entirely other magical experience. It sounds poetic almost, each word feeling like the personification of cursive through verbal speech.

When he puts his phone back into his pocket, I ask, “Was that your mom?” I don’t know why I assume this other than the fact that it’s the first time he didn’t speak any English around me.

“Uh, yeah,” he says. “Sorry. We usually speak in Spanish. ”

I quickly shake my head. “Don’t apologize. I completely understand. I also appreciate how you guys speak English around me, but it’s not necessary. If you want to speak in Spanish, I would also understand that.”

Luca’s smile is back. God , I missed his smile .

He crosses his arms playfully, with a tilt of his head. “Is this your way of letting me know that you’re going to start learning some Spanish?”

“Honestly, I do want to learn it. And what better place to start than here?” When he chuckles, I ask, “What? What is it now ?”

“I’m just imagining the moment you try to say something that doesn’t translate itself literally.”

“Thank you for believing in me. You’re super encouraging.”

“No, I think it’s great,” he says coyly as I notice his tongue almost brush the corner of his mouth. “I just hope I’m there to see it.”

I nudge his shoulder playfully.

But my plan backfires when my fingers sense how firm his chest really feels through his sweater.

“Quick question,” I say, immediately changing the subject to divert my attention.

“Yeah?” he asks.

Considering how relaxed he looks right now, I assume he thinks I’m about to ask another question regarding experience, so I tentatively ask, “Why did you make up that excuse yesterday on the hike?”

Luca’s shoulders visibly tense up, but he quickly regains his composure. “You told me that you wanted to be alone with Enrique?”

“I know, but I wasn’t expecting you to do that.”

“I didn’t mind skipping it altogether, but Sofia was really looking forward to going since she’s been a lot busier this summer. I thought maybe leaving some time for you guys to be together at the end at least would be better than nothing.”

A smile begins to form across my lips. “Luca, that’s such a sweet thing to do. Thank you.”

He shrugs as if this was nothing. “Oh, don’t mention it. I know how important this is for you.”

My eyes start to tingle. But in a happy way, wondering how silly I’m about to sound since it was such a small gesture. Though to me, it’s everything.

“I know it might sound a little weird,” I confess, “but I think this is without a doubt one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me.”

“I didn’t do anything, really. But that’s sweet,” he says timidly, while I marvel at how I manage to find more shades of blue each time I meet his eyes, this time spotting the tiniest flecks of sapphire.

Before I choke on my next words, I continue, “I’m still confused though. Why weren’t you the one who brought it up?”

“I thought it might be weird if I said anything,” he explains. “Knowing you, it might have gotten in your head. Like right now .”

Knowing you. The words making my stomach fill with summersaults.

I also note how Luca usually would smirk after saying those words, but his smile right now looks more vulnerable. Raw almost.

Ignoring his joke, I take the chance to tell him exactly what I think of him right this very moment. “You’re a very thoughtful person, I hope you know that.”

Not thinking any of this through, I then move forward to give him a hug .

When my skin meets his, Luca’s body immediately stiffens beneath my touch, freezing for a second with his hands still by his sides.

I’m about to pull away, wondering if this wasn’t the right thing to do, when I feel his hands gently wrap around my waist.

My entire posture shifts. My heart almost stops. My reflex is to pull him in even closer. But I know I can’t.

I’ve never felt something like this. A hug has never felt like this.

I can barely breathe. I can’t think of anything. I don’t even know where I am. I’ve lost all sense of logic. Yet my body is feeling everything. Everywhere .

I’m trying to forget how his weight feels gently pressed against mine. I’m hoping to erase how I feel each of his fingers over my back. Maybe after tonight, I won’t even remember the way his golden strands are tickling my cheek as the side of my face brushes along his neck.

But the intoxicating smell of his hair and skin are enough to distract me completely from the fact that he’s barely even a friend.

I don’t know how long we’re stuck in this position.

Long enough for me to conclude that this hug feels more intimate than any kiss I’ve had so far.

We all cling onto things that make us feel alive, that give us hope. For me, romance has always been that glimmer of hope. And now. To feel his body meld into mine completely. It’s romantic . It’s raw . It’s perfect .