Summer, 1994, Monterosso Beach, Cinque Terre)

You’re sitting alone on the beach, journal in your lap, pen chewing between your teeth. A pebble lands near your foot. You look up.

A guy—curly hair, tanned skin, oversized button-up open over a white tank—is sitting a few meters away. He quickly looks down at the book in his hands. Pretends he didn’t just toss that.

Another pebble. Closer.

He glances up again. Shrugs. Gives a tiny smile. Then uses his finger to draw something in the sand between you:

👋 + ☕ = 🙂?

Then he looks back at you—shy, a little red in the cheeks—but waiting