The not-so-perfect story of an Italian Summer

Chapter 2

These are going to be the worst holidays of my life!

The day had actually started nicely, we had woken up around 9 (meaning I had woken up at 8 and spent a whole hour trying to convince Elisa to get out of bed) and we had gone to the 'chiosco' San Marco near our apartment to get coffee and some delicious pastries. After changing into the best pairs of bikinis we had (a red two-piece with fabric threads starting from each cup and crossing around her neck for Elisa and a black swimsuit that consisted out of what looked like a spider had spun a thin web between the top and bottom of a skimpy bikini), we finally hit the beach and sunbathed a bit. When it had gotten too warm, we had sprinted to the sea to cool down. Once we had become way to wrinkly from the long exposure to the salty water we had raced (so that we didn't burn our feet on the boiling sand) back to our beach umbrella.

Which lead to the dreadful situation I was in now: not wanting to risk burning my feet I had refused to follow Elisa to the showers next to our place (hey, it's a long walk from our front row umbrella to our apartment complex, I just didn't want to expose my feet to any danger! Who knows how badly burnt they could have gotten during the 50-70 m sprint!). My skin had quickly dried in the heat, leaving the salt to make my skin feel really uncomfortable. Therefore, I had to surrender and had gone to take a shower. The shower (and inevitable feet burns, seriously, what are those Italian feet made of, silicone?) had soon proved to be useless, since as soon as I came back to our umbrella Elisa dragged me back to the ocean. Seriously, is this girl unable to stay on land? I get it that you are a swimmer and therefor have an insane need to be in contact with water, but could you please refrain from constantly dragging me along in your water escapades? Also, since her skin is often in contact with water, it takes her longer to get all wrinkly, while I just need to stay in the water for a few minutes until the first creases appear on my skin. The unfairness of it all! Obviously, from this point on my day could only get better...

That's when Elisa had the just brilliant idea to "liven things up" by playing a round of truth or dare, and I, unaware of her devious plan, decided to accept. After just a couple of weird dares (have you ever tried eating sand? No? Trust me, you truly don't want to!) I found myself mentally preparing to gracefully do whatever dare she had prepared for me next. From that evil smirk on her face I could tell this wasn't going to end well for me. Her eyes wouldn't stop moving from my face to something on my left! "My dearest friend... you... have to go up to that guy standing close to the big purple inflatable flamingo behind you and get him to tell you his name and age!" she told me while her smirk widened to a full-blown wicked grin. So that was what she had been staring at up to a few second ago! I truly don't know what to expect while I turn around to face the guy I'll have to go up to. Waking up early must have really upset her if she is retaliating on me like this...

My eyes quickly scan the few meters of ocean behind my back. Inevitably, almost as if attracted by a magnet, my eyes land on a gorgeous male specimen. Spotting him seems to come to me with such ease. There is something about him, something that just makes him stick out from the crowd, something I just can't put a finger on yet. Just like that, I immediately know he is the one Elisa wants me to flirt with. Oh, and the truly gigantic bright pink inflatable flamingo floating just next to him also happens to be a dead giveaway. That thing is hideous! Luckily, he doesn't seem to have anything to do with that abomination.

As I slowly approach him, I notice that he must have just come from a swim, since we're standing in one meter deep water and this handsome one-meter-ninety fella is dripping wet and looks just the slightest bit flustered. I watched mesmerized as water droplets slowly ran down his abs and then dipped to regions still hidden by the water. I felt my heart beat faster and my breath shorten as my eyes trailed back up his muscly and toned torso. Finally, my eyes came to rest on his face. Small droplets of water ran down it, coming to a short halt onto his diamond cutting jawline, and then running down his chin, along his Adam's apple and then tracing every curve of the spectacular creases his muscles formed. I had to force myself to look at his face again, and, just as I seemed to gather enough good will to admire his mesmerizing face, he raised a hand and ran it through his jet-black wet curls. His eyes, previously hidden by that rebellious hair that, against all laws of physics, seemed to capture and reflect every possible sunbeam, were magnificent. They were of such an intense ice blue, such a magnetizing and familiar ice blue... This must have been the guy I bumped into at the bus station!