CHAPTER 5

“Cruel Summer” – Taylor Swift

IT LOOKS LIKE LUCA ISN’T joining us for breakfast today. He must be fueling his energy to piss me off for the rest of the day.

Enrique seems way more well rested than I am despite how much more he drank at the club. “Sorry for passing out like that last night,” he tells me. “Did you have fun?” He smiles obliviously. “I don’t remember seeing you again at the club before we drove back.”

What a surprise. He actually noticed I was gone. “Yeah I had fun,” I say, referring to the first half of the evening. “I just took a step outside.”

“Okay good. I wanted you to have fun,” he says, holding his cheery grin.

That’s actually pretty sweet. And he sounds sincere. I don’t want to get my hopes up though. “So any fun plans for the day?” I ask, silently hoping he invites me along.

“Yeah, Luca and a few of us were gonna go surfing for a bit.” Enrique pauses, before adding, almost as an afterthought, “I’d invite you but I wasn’t sure if that’s something you’d want to do. ”

I want to scream. Then ask me! My goodness. Why is this so complicated for him? Must I do all the work for both of us.

“Oh, I wouldn’t mind joining,” I fake eagerness at the activity I also don’t particularly care for.

“Yeah of course,” Enrique replies, his brows raised in slight surprise. “I didn’t know you like to surf?”

“I’ve been once or twice. It’ll be fun to go again,” I stretch the truth, considering how I tried but miserably failed to surf once.

Then I feel my phone vibrate and see it’s a text from Georgia:

Georgia: The refrigerator’s broken, my cereal was expired, and I was two hours late to my meeting. Maybe I should have just come to Spain with you...

Jasmine: Oh wow. Have we traded places?

Georgia: lol you’re right, this is like a typical afternoon for you

Jasmine: lmao sadly

After breakfast, we meet Luca in the lobby. And of course he can’t help himself. “ You’re coming?”

I roll my eyes at his tone. “Good morning to you too.”

“That’s not a disaster waiting to happen,” he mutters.

“What did you say?” But I heard exactly what he said. I’m just wondering if he has the guts to say it louder than he did.

Luca adjusts his posture, purposely faking excitement, “I said how great is it that you’re going to be surfing with us.”

“That’s what I thought,” I say, my eyes squinting at him.

_________

This is the earliest I’ve ever been to the beach. I can’t believe how many people are here. Everyone is so active. While I’m still struggling to keep my eyes open.

Then suddenly I’ve never felt more awake—

Luca and Enrique are removing their shirts, and I’m trying to act like I’m distracted by anything but them. Though I don’t think I’m doing a very good job at it.

Enrique’s defined torso gets my attention first. I have to remind myself to blink again as he stretches, revealing all the muscles in his back and leaving little to the imagination.

But when I glance away, I almost choke on air at Luca’s prominent v-lines. His toned abs and long legs distract me long enough until I’m drawn to how the veins near his forearms are flexing as he’s putting on his sunscreen.

For a second I forget how I’m daydreaming instead of changing out of my own clothes. I decided on my lime green string bikini for today, one of two swimsuits I brought with me and definitely the sturdier of the two. I’m guessing it’s not the most ideal choice for this activity, but in my defense, surfing was never on my itinerary for this vacation.

When I’m left in just my bikini, I feel so exposed. I’ve worn one in public a number of times. But this feels different .

I’m in front of a guy that I’m trying to impress along with his friend group. It doesn’t help that I find all of them attractive as well. It’s actually pretty unsettling wondering what they’re all thinking about me, especially since I’m the only girl here with them today.

Now I wonder if my swimsuit is actually a little too revealing when I feel Enrique give me a slow once-over. “ Wow ,” he says. “I don’t think I’ll be able to keep my focus now.”

I feel my heart jump, blushing at the most suggestive comment I’ve ever received. My eyes shift toward the shore, simply not knowing how to respond to said comment. Then my throat immediately tightens when I catch Luca looking at me from my periphery.

Is he checking me out? It looks like it.

I glance over at Luca, but as soon as he sees me notice that I saw him, he looks away, taking in a breath as if that’s his way of brushing off that I saw him look. Suddenly, my confidence builds a little, knowing they were both looking at me.

“You ready?” Enrique asks me.

“Uh, I’ll join you guys in a second. I have to put on some sunscreen.” So I might be stalling …

“Okay, I’ll see you in a bit.” Enrique smiles, not questioning anything for even a second.

Before Luca has a chance to follow him into the ocean, I ask, “Are you going in now too?” I continue to stare at the giant abyss of water, my nerves escalating.

“I know it might sound shocking to you, but surfing is usually in the water. Not on land,” he mocks.

I flip him off in my head. I’m terrified of the ocean. Why did I agree to this?

“I don’t know how to surf,” I confess, still focused on the water.

“ And ?” he says.

I explain, “And I may have told Enrique that I’ve gone once or twice, but left out how I kind of left the water before I really went in it.”

“And you’re telling me this and not him because?”

I sigh. “Do you mind helping me?”

“So you want me to be your chaperone,” he concludes with no expression.

“We both know without guidance I’ll most likely get lost at sea. ”

“Fine,” he grumbles to himself.

A relieved smile lights up my face as I motion toward the surfboard on my right. “Is this one mine?”

“No, it’s the pelican’s,” he deadpans, gesturing to the bird walking on the sand nearby.

I walked right into that one.

Luca starts walking with his board toward the sea, while I continue to look at the water. Waiting for the courage to somehow tap me on the shoulder, I notice how many kids are either swimming or doing other water activities. I remind myself: if they can do it, so can I. There’s nothing to worry about. I hope .

I take a deep breath as I begin my steps, my body moving toward the ocean, my mind desperately trying to push me backwards.

After paddling far enough from the shore to practice, Luca straddles his surfboard, and I follow suit, though with already shakier legs than him.

“Okay,” he says, “let’s start with balancing on the board.” As he gets up onto his board, his muscles have my undivided attention again, when I should be learning what steps he’s doing to repeat them.

Giving all my strength to keep my balance, I cautiously lift myself up and begin to stand on the board. “Woah,” I wince and almost wobble backwards before catching myself. My lack of coordination is clearly making up for the almost nonexistent waves today.

Luca looks at my legs and suggests, “Try bending your knees. It’ll help you keep a low center of gravity to stop you from falling.” I try, but fail to match his standing position, when he adds, “Stop moving your shoulders so much. ”

“I can’t help it. It’s hard to balance on this thing,” I say, still jittery from the fact that we’re this deep into the water.

“Surfboard,” he corrects, “it’s called a surfboard .”

“Whatever.” I don’t fucking care what it’s called at this very moment.

I try to tilt my shoulders at an angle that will hopefully minimize my clumsiness. Instead, my upper body somehow feels even stranger than before.

“No. Not like that,” Luca says, elongating his arms to mimic my movements. Only my arms most likely look even more peculiar than a second ago. “Jasmine, what are you doing? Look at how my shoulders look.”

This feels like a trap. Considering if I look at his shoulders right now, I’d be focusing on how even the tiniest muscles are flexing along his collarbone.

As I try to mirror his position, I remember the last and only other time so far Luca’s said my name. His voice a bit foggy and muzzled that night by the pool. Too far away to detect. But now, his voice is clear . The letters of my name rolling off his tongue for just a second time. And it’s never sounded like that before .

His mocking tone snaps me back to reality. “ That’s what I look like?”

“Well help me then!” I squeal, losing my patience.

He places his hands on my shoulders, while I remain impressed by his leg strength and how he’s practically maintaining his own balance on his board while slightly leaning in to help me.

It works so far, but I also squirm at his touch. It’s not just the fact that a man has never touched my shoulders like this before. But I also temporarily forgot how ticklish I am.

It’s like everything about me has pointed to the common sign of never getting laid. I just had to be ticklish to top it all off.

Immediately smiling from the sensation that’s traveling down my arms leaves him even more puzzled. “Why are you smiling?” Luca asks, his brows creased, a trace of a flush forming on his cheeks.

“Nothing,” I say, despite my thudding heartbeat. “Continue.”

“Continue what ? You’re not listening to any of my instructions.”

“Do a better job at instructing then,” I challenge, squinting at him.

Luca moves in to hold the side of my hip this time, but when his long fingers barely graze over my sensitive skin, I immediately tumble into the water, pulling him with me unintentionally.

Once we’re above the water, he shouts, “What the fuck was that?!”

I’ve never been this ticklish with clothes on, but without it, apparently, I’m an absolute wreck.

My laughter isn’t helping the situation either when Luca exhales, probably now frustrated at a lack of an explanation. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. I’m just super ticklish.” To my dismay, I keep laughing. And way louder .

He bites down on his lips and then purses them, confirming how he’s also trying not to laugh now. Which only makes me laugh even harder.

I barely hear a trace of his laughter slip from his lips, before I challenge, “Go on. Say what you’re thinking.”

For a virgin, I sure have a dirty mind. He’s most likely just wondering why I’m such a mess. But a part of me also wonders if he’s thinking how does she have sex if I barely touched her side ? And the answer to that question would be she sadly does not .

Instead he snorts. “So you’re clumsy and ticklish? Perfect combination to learn how to surf.”

I ignore his comment, trying to gather myself. “Okay, let’s continue.”

“How?” He scoffs. “I barely touched you, and now we’re both drenched.”

I know we’re already in the water, but I’m pretty sure his words just made me even more wet. But I need to focus, so I suggest the first thing my distracted mind can think of at this very second, “Maybe if I place your hands on my skin instead, it won’t feel as ticklish.”

Luca’s brows immediately furrow, his eyes widening at my direct choice of words.

I’m used to my own awkwardness that I don’t see the big deal of what I say until seeing his reaction to it. “Maybe that sounded better in my head,” I clarify.

“I highly doubt that. But ok.” He reaches out his hand toward me. “Let’s try again. C’mon,” he offers, before helping me regain my balance onto my surfboard.

“Thanks,” I say, entranced by his now soaked hair.

It feels almost wrong being so focused on him while he’s taking the time to help me, when he could be surfing with his friends. But these are among the many things I’ve been deprived of my whole life, even the most subtle details enough to leave me a flustered mess. Like how salt water droplets are dancing all over his skin right now.

I take a deep breath from all the forces I’m feeling at once as I struggle to push my weight onto the board again.

After we’ve both regained our balance, Luca asks, “What feels more comfortable to you? Having your left or right foot forward? ”

I try both ways and conclude, “I think left foot forward is better.”

“That means you’re a regular footed surfer,” he explains. “Goofy footed surfers have their left foot in the back.”

I’m probably giving him the blankest expression, trying my best to process all of this information.

He sighs, before continuing, “So now make sure your right foot is perpendicular to the board, while your left foot should turn a little inward to your right foot at almost a 45-degree angle. Think of it almost like diagonal to the board’s tip.”

Remembering his previous advice, I bend my knees, while also matching the foot placement that he just explained. I’m not falling. Yet . So that’s a good sign. But that lasts for a good three seconds though, when I’m now briefly distracted by the way the sun rays are beaming off the golden strands in his hair. It’s enough to make me slightly tremble again.

In the flash of a moment where I’m about to fall into the water for the second time, Luca takes me by surprise and firmly holds my hand. “You’re okay. I got you,” he reassures, looking right into my wide eyes.

It occurs to me that this is the first time a guy has held my hand. Ever . Even if it’s not in the romantic sense it might as well be, given how it sends the strongest current across my body with how confidently he’s holding onto me.

“That was close. Thanks,” I quietly reply.

Sensing how startled my eyes must look right now, he says, “The more you fall, the better you’ll get at it. So don’t stress. Half of it is in your mind.” He lets go of my hand, taking the electric waves with him. “Like with anything else, a lot of surfing is just psychological. ”

I simply nod. Mostly since I’m a little baffled by his self-awareness and attention to detail. It’s obvious that if he cares about something, he really invests in it.

_________

“It doesn’t look like there’s any waves today,” I declare, looking closer to the shore, while we take a break in the water.

“Yeah. It’s pretty low tide today,” Luca says. “If we got here earlier it would have been better.”

“Earlier than 10? In summer ?” I scoff. “Absolutely not.”

“There’s nothing quite like catching a wave when most of the town is still asleep,” he says with a relaxed smile.

“I’m the person in the town happily asleep,” I admit. “I am not a morning person.”

“That explains so much,” he deadpans.

I roll my eyes. “I’m guessing you’re not a night owl then?”

“I don’t really have a preference actually,” he replies. “I like waking up early, but there are nights that I stay up pretty late.”

“And how late is that usually?”

“I don’t know. Maybe 2 or 3?” His eyes narrow amusedly. “Is that late enough for you?”

I raise my brows. “If I told you how late I’ve sometimes stayed up until you’d be terrified.”

“I think you’ve done a pretty good job at scaring me so far,” he says confidently.

I splash some water at him while he tries not to grin. “Maybe sometimes 3 or 4? The worst I’ve done is 7 or 8.”

His jaw drops. “7 or 8? That’s not staying up late. That’s an all-nighter. How do you go to work? ”

“I don’t anymore. I lost my job right before I came here.” If I wasn’t attractive to him before, I sure am now. Suddenly I feel self-conscious about what he thinks of me.

When Luca’s eyes soften, it almost throws me off.

“Sorry. That’s rough,” he offers.

“It’s okay. I’m honestly a lot more relieved than sad. At least now I can look for something that I actually enjoy,” I say.

His expression turns a bit sour. “Liking your job sounds nice in theory. Yeah, it’s fun at the beginning. But then it just feels like any other work or sometimes even worse.”

“Do you speak from experience?”

“Something like that,” he says.

“Even if having a job in an area that you like still feels like work, at least it’s within your interests. Not many people get to say that,” I reason.

He nods. “I guess that’s true.”

We sit in silence for more than a few seconds, when I notice how it doesn’t feel awkward, a definite first for me around guys. Though subtle, it’s a relaxing feeling I never knew could be possible.

“You know you’re pretty good at this,” I say as my way of thanking Luca for his help.

“And you’re not as bad as I thought you’d be at it,” he says with a barely there grin.

I roll my eyes when he closes his as he tilts his head up to embrace the sun. He looks so peaceful in the water that I almost forget about my anxiety with the ocean. The first time I’ve ever felt safe in the sea.

“You know the ocean is one of the scariest things to me? I’m more of an observer rather than a participant.” I somehow feel comfortable enough to confess one of my biggest fears as his eyes are still shut.

“So why did you want to come?” he asks, slowly opening his eyes.

I give a deep exhale, releasing the tension that’s been building inside me ever since we got to the beach. “As much as you don’t believe me, I’m really trying to push myself.”

Luca glances at me while I’m staring at the water. It’s when my eyes meet his, he says, “I do believe you.”

I’m temporarily moved by his words and how sincerely he said them that it takes me a second to add, “And I wanted to impress him.” I nod my head in Enrique’s direction, so engrossed with surfing with his friends it seems he’s forgotten all about me.

“Why?” Luca shrugs. “Just be yourself.”

Ah yes. The golden words that sound lovely but also seem impossible when you’re actually trying to be yourself.

It’s then that I wonder why Luca hasn’t gone back to his friends yet. Maybe he feels bad for me.

I feel less guilty for ruining his plans to surf after seeing the lack of waves. But I still feel bad for separating him from his friends, so as I hold onto my board, I say, “I’m going to keep practicing. I don’t want to take more of your time. This was really helpful.”

“Okay. I’ll see you later.” He points toward the sand. “Just remember the shore is that way.”

I scoff. “I take back my helpful comment.”

His lips slightly curve upwards before he paddles away until it’s just me, my thoughts, and the ocean. After swimming closer to the shore and observing a few small waves come and go, I feel a bit more daring, now trying to get on my surfboard again.

I barely even have a chance to stand on the board though, when a small wave tips me over. Shit .

Somehow I’m submerged in the water even deeper than earlier as I try to rise back up. Of course the waves had to get a little stronger when I was finally on my own.

As the saltwater fills my mouth, turning me into a coughing mess, I feel a breeze tickle across my chest. Today isn’t particularly windy though so—

FUCK . My bikini top?! Where did it go? I immediately push my chest back into the water, while looking over at Enrique and his friend group to see if anyone noticed. Thankfully, they’re all too consumed by the water to give my shitshow any attention.

I think about searching for the top myself but since I’m this close to the shore, there’s no way I can cover my chest, look for it, and hold my board simultaneously. So all I manage to think of is to cross my arms before shouting the first name that I can think of. “Luca!”

He turns around as he’s paddling. Enrique also looks over as well. Judging by Luca’s puzzled glare, he senses something’s wrong, to which I’m grateful when he doesn’t tell Enrique to come with him. Swimming as fast as he can, he reaches me quickly.

“Is everything okay?” he asks with brows raised.

“My swimsuit top fell in the water,” I explain, making sure my arms and board are shielding me enough. “Can you please help me find it?”

A tiny scoff falls from his lips, probably thinking something far more pressing had occurred. “How am I supposed to find it in the ocean?” he asks, his brows furrowed at my request.

“It was right here though. Maybe it’s somewhere nearby.” I clarify, “I would look for it, but I don’t want anyone to see my chest. ”

“Okay.” He sighs, but I also notice his cheeks flush. It’s probably just from his sunburn. Before he starts to look for it, he asks, “How did this even happen?”

“I don’t know. It’s this stupid bikini. But to be fair, I also didn’t pack my swimsuits with surfing in mind.” I shrug, now feeling exponentially warmer at the realization that I’m currently half-naked next to this guy.

Instead of replying, Luca goes down into the water.

“Do you see it?” I ask when he comes back up.

“No. Not yet,” he says. “Let me check this side.”

Since this is the side facing my chest, I start panicking. “Can you try and maybe close your eyes as much as possible?” Between holding my board and my chest with my hands, I’m not exactly covering my boobs as efficiently as I would have hoped for.

Luca raises a brow at me. “How am I supposed to find your swimsuit in the ocean with my eyes closed?”

I also sigh at my ridiculous request. “No. You’re right,” I say, before he goes into the water again.

But when he comes back up a few moments later, I almost can’t believe he’s holding the lime fabric in his hands. “Shit. Perfect. Thank you so much.” Then I notice how it’s covered with seaweed. “I hope that doesn’t leave a stain.”

“At least it matches your swimsuit,” he says with a slight chuckle, before shaking his head. “Have you considered making a bingo card for every time something like this happens to you during your stay here? I think it would be worthwhile.”

I roll my eyes. “Thanks for the helpful suggestion.”

“What happened?” His brows crease. “I saw you were doing pretty well.”

“You were watching me surf?” I ask, my heart rate returning to the same pace it reached when his fingers touched my hips .

“I would use the terms watch and surf mildly,” he deadpans. “But yeah, you were doing a lot better than before.”

So he noticed me. I can’t lie that my heart flutters at this simple revelation.

I confess, “I think I got overconfident in my abilities a little too quickly for my own good.”

“You’ll get better at it,” he offers reassuringly.

I start tying back the top straps of my bikini when Luca and my eyes accidentally meet. A wave of heat beams through my hips at the softest movement of his lips. Not quite parted, but enough to make me want to swallow the saltiness lingering in my mouth. But my heart jumps against my chest when he quickly looks away. Even though there was nothing for him to see, it felt way more intimate than it should have.

It’s then when the rest of the guys are paddling back as we follow them out of the ocean.

The water’s buoyancy must have kept me from noticing how wobbly my legs are feeling, given how they’ve never trembled like this. It looks as though I’m trying to dance while I walk. So much for my plan for making a good impression.

“What the hell is this?” I ask Luca.

“It’s just from balancing on the board,” he explains, while trying to hold in his laughter. “You probably stayed too long in one position.”

My eyes grow wide. “You couldn’t have warned me about that before?”

“How was I supposed to know what your body is used to or not?”

Now I’m distracted by how he brings up the words “body” and “used to” in the same sentence. Before I have the chance to fall down that separate rabbit hole, I hear their friends giggle something to Enrique in Spanish.

“What did they say?” I ask.

“They said that—”

Enrique interjects, “ Luca .”

Luca stops himself, and Enrique clarifies, “Nothing important. Don’t worry about it.”

Now I have to know. “What? No. Tell me.”

Enrique sighs, before explaining, “They asked me what we did last night. It’s dumb. They always tease me.”

Always? Does that mean Enrique brings people here pretty often?

Enrique’s voice interrupts my inner dialogue. “Why didn’t you join us?”

I want to ask back: Why didn’t you come to me? Shockingly, I don’t express what I’m thinking. Again.

Instead, I reply, “I was practicing my surfing and asking a few questions to Luca about it. I had a lot of fun though.” That’s excluding the two times I plummeted into the water and walked out of the ocean with moves that resembled how I felt I looked like at the club.

“I thought you said you’ve surfed before?” Enrique’s brows furrow.

“Yeah, but not much. Just wanted to refresh my memory,” I try my best to sound convincing.

“I’m glad you had fun though.” His dimples appear. “Hopefully we can do it together next.”

See this confuses me. He could’ve made an effort for us to do it together this time .

Wanting to stay hopeful though, I say, “I’d like that. ”

But then I’m even more confused when we sit down on our beach towels, and Enrique goes to sit closer to one of his other friends rather than near me. He immediately engages in conversation with them so exuberantly as if I’m not even here.

Maybe I’m reading into things way more than I should. I would just assume that you’d want to sit next to the person you’re trying to get close to. Or I don’t know? Try to include them in a conversation with your friends.

On the one hand, I don’t have the experience, so maybe all of this is normal. On the other hand, I remember the advice I got over the years telling me I’d be better off lowering my expectations, not so much to accept less than, more so to realize an idea you have of love doesn’t always translate the same way during the fact. Nonetheless, what I’m learning is that you almost lose sight of what your expectations looked like when you’re in the middle of experiencing something. Even more when you’ve been so enthralled with the idea of said thing.

Still focused on Enrique, it must have slipped my attention how Luca is now sitting right across from me.

When we start having lunch, I motion toward the napkins that are out of my reach and ask him, “Can I have a sandwich napkin please?”

Luca’s brows crease. “What’s a sandwich napkin?”

“You know?” When he shrugs sarcastically, I clarify, “Like a napkin you use when you have a sandwich.”

“ What ?” He raises his brows. “First of all, we’re eating fish not a sandwich.” I roll my eyes as he adds, “And there’s no such thing.”

Not sure why he’s not understanding what I’m saying, I explain, “Yeah, you have a paper towel, and then you have a sandwich napkin. ”

“No,” he says, the sarcasm in his voice building, “you have a paper towel and then a napkin .”

“What about those square napkins?” I ask.

“You mean napkins ?” he deadpans.

“What?” I’m starting to think that maybe I’m the one who doesn’t know what she’s talking about.

Luca confirms this, “They’re just napkins, not sandwich napkins.”

“Okay those.” I sigh, accepting defeat. “Can I have one please?”

He gives me a blank stare before handing me a napkin. “This was the stupidest conversation that I’ve ever had.”

“Then I’d reevaluate the rest of your conversations.” I don’t even know what I just said. All I know is that this man is endearing one moment and then annoying the next.

He clearly looks impressed with himself though, when his lips curve to the side at my comeback.

I place the focus back onto the shimmering turquoise water. “I didn’t know how detailed surfing got. You sure know a lot about it.”

“I’ve been surfing since I was little,” Luca explains. “My parents taught me.”

“That’s cool. I wish I could say the same. My parents aren’t the most adventurous. Although, I’m not really either,” I admit.

“Says the girl who traveled all the way to Europe by herself and is trying to surf even though she’s scared of the ocean,” he concludes with just a trace of sarcasm.

But that was pretty specific . And sweet .

“None of this is really me though,” I say.

“ No ? So you’re not Jasmine then? You look a lot like her I must say,” he comments, his crystal blue eyes sparkling .

I laugh while my cheeks flush at the sound of my name slipping from his lips again. Then my expression grows blank. “It’s who I’ve wanted to be for as long as I can remember. I’ve just been putting it off I guess. Until now. This is my first trip ever by myself,” I confess, then realize what I just said.

Remembering all the vacation opportunities I passed up over the years out of fear, I try not to let it bring me down the way it has.

I continued to live with my parents all throughout college and up until last year. Even though at that point I was technically allowed to travel on my own or go on a vacation with my friends, I still didn’t . The problem, I found, of experiencing an extreme lack of freedom for most of your life and then suddenly having a little bit of it was that it makes you feel very stuck on how to use it. In many ways, I felt like a little girl once I turned 18 because my innocence was still so unscathed in every way. And I had no idea where to even start.

Not expecting to share this small, though, personal detail with Luca, I try to relax my posture.

“Ever?” he asks, eyes widening a little.

“Yeah, like I’ve never even traveled on my own a few hours away. This is kind of a lot. It’s been fun though,” I add.

Something shifts in Luca’s eyes, and suddenly he looks a lot more sincere. “Life’s too short to not try the things you want to do.”

“Yeah, exactly,” I agree. But wonder why he sounds almost sad.

To my surprise, Enrique changes his seat and comes to sit across from me and next to Luca just seconds later.

“You know you two have more in common than you may think?” Enrique says, giving us both a knowing glance .

Luca looks skeptical but also curious, waiting to hear his friend’s response that follows. “You both have terrible taste in football teams. Jasmine also likes Real Madrid…unfortunately.”

Luca acts as if he has this newfound burst of energy when he looks over at me. “Well why didn’t you just say that from the beginning?” He exaggeratedly spreads his arms wide. “Welcome to Spain!”

“That’s it?” I mock. “That’s all I needed to say to receive a warm welcome from you?”

“No. But I appreciate you asking,” Luca replies with an obnoxious grin.

I roll my eyes as Enrique points out, “I wouldn’t get too excited considering that she also calls football, ‘ soccer. ’”

Luca gasps, glancing back at me. “You can’t just show up here and disrespect our sport like that.”

Enrique extends his hand toward his friend in agreement. “Thank you. That’s what I was trying to tell her.”

Now I see why they’re friends.

“Hey!” I defend. “I refer to it as both. My friends are into American football so you can imagine how confusing it would be if I were to refer to them both the same.”

Unsurprisingly, they pretend to not buy it as Enrique playfully adds, “Sounds like an excuse to me.”

“It’s definitely an excuse,” Luca agrees.

I shake my head and turn toward Luca. “I’m afraid that’s where our similarities end.”

“I wouldn’t say that. Luca also went to UDC,” Enrique reveals.

There’s no way that I didn’t see Luca while I was at university. He has the kind of face that I wouldn’t have missed .

“Really? I never saw you,” I tell him .

His lips barely curve, amusement building in his cheeks as he finishes his bite of fresh bread. “You knew all 30,000 people that went there?” And with that, Luca’s back.

I refrain from rolling my eyes this time. “Are you two the same age then? Like were you the same year?”

“Yeah,” Enrique replies. “We’re both 25, and he was also a freshman like us.”

“We shared an apartment together that year,” Luca says.

“That apartment was wild,” Enrique adds as him and Luca share a knowing glance before he snorts. “I was studying abroad though for just a year. Luca lived in California at the time, so he stayed there until graduation.”

I remember Enrique telling me how he was only staying for a year. The fact that Luca attended the same school for all four years though, makes this even more bizarre at how our paths never crossed. Maybe their schedules must not have aligned, since Enrique’s girlfriend at the time was the only person I would ever really see him with.

“What made you want to move here?” I ask Luca, my curiosity growing by the second.

Enrique grows noticeably quiet before Luca blinks deeply as if something just went into his eye and he’s trying to remove it. “I was born here and then moved to California with my parents and sister when I was 3,” Luca explains, his eyes losing some of their playfulness. “My dad passed away during my senior year of college, and my mom didn’t have any family there, so Sofia, her, and I moved back to Spain after I graduated.”

My heart feels a slight aching, seeing his expression shift that quickly. “I’m sorry,” I say, not really knowing if this is a sufficient response or not. I also realize that he was basically raised in the US. And that explains why Luca doesn’t have an accent, while Enrique does.

“It’s okay,” Luca quickly replies. “It’s been a few years now, so it doesn’t sting as much as it used to.”

I give my best gentle expression of solidarity and try to change the direction of the conversation onto another related topic. “So, did you guys meet in college then?”

Enrique joins in again, “No. We actually knew each other from before. The same cousin that I was visiting on Fourth of July has been friends with Luca since they were kids, so we saw each other pretty much every summer. We became a lot closer during college though.”

“Oh wow. That’s awesome.” I glance over at Luca and ask, “Were you also there on the Fourth?”

“I was,” Luca confirms.

“He wasn’t with me when I saw you,” Enrique clarifies what I’m currently wondering about. “We met up later that night.”

Luca feigns a longing expression, while looking at me. “To think we could have met earlier .”

I laugh at the way his face is twisted. As well as the coincidence of it all.

I thought learning how to surf would be the highlight of my day. And it was fun, don’t get me wrong. But the simplicity of having a conversation with two guys like this made me feel normal for once. Since I always wondered how it would have felt like to have guy friends growing up.

It’s different than what I expected. It’s nice .