He laughed and rested his forearms on the table. He seemed to find my difficulties amusing. Without asking, he pulled off a slice of pizza and offered it to me.
“Here. Eat. It will make it go away faster. The fat in the cheese helps.”
“Thanks.”
I bit into the slice and began to chew, closing my eyes and hearing the sounds of my swallowing.
“It’s incredible,” I said, mouth full.
When I opened my eyes, I saw him leaning forward and staring at me shamelessly. His hair was brown, unkempt, wavy, covering the tops of his ears and his neck. His eyes, hidden behind long, thick lashes, were intense, like a sea in winter, the kind of eyes that drill through your skin and see everything inside you.
But what really caught my eye was the freckles all over his face: that map of brownish stars radiating out from his nose. I’d never thought freckles were sexy before, but now I did. They made him look like a mischievous little boy, and that was awakening feelings in me I hadn’t imagined would come to me this early in the trip.
“My name’s Lucas,” he said.
“Mine’s Maya.”
We leaned clumsily across the table to exchange two kisses on the cheek. His skin was soft, and it smelled good, woody and slightly citrus, an aroma I could almost taste.
“It’s nice to meet you, Maya. Now, if you don’t need me to put out any more fires, I actually need to get back to the bar.”
He winked seductively and stood. I bit my lips.
“The bar?”
“I don’t usually wait tables, I’m really the bartender. Speaking of, the milk’s on the house.”
I felt stupid for gawking at him, but I couldn’t help it, and I think he felt the same. But then he ran his hand over the back of his neck and turned away. He was tall, taller than he’d seemed at first, with long legs and a firm step. Handsome, but not in a conventional way, not a knockout, but pure, simple. He didn’t look fake, and he didn’t look like he was trying. Everything about him was at ease, and that caught my attention, along with his relaxed good humor.
I blushed. What was I thinking? I never looked at guys like that, just because they were attractive and had said a few friendly words to me. It was my circumstances, I guessed: I felt lost, vulnerable.
I’d only broken up with Antoine a few days before.
Antoine…
I hadn’t thought of him since, and doing so made me feel strange. Cold.
We’d been together for a year, and he’d cheated on me with another girl. I should have felt something, right? Something. But inside, I was totally empty.
I tried to forget all of that and enjoy my meal.
I ate the entire pizza and got an ice cream for dessert. There wasn’treally room for it, but I had to keep eating if I wanted to keep sitting there, stretching out the hours on a night when I had nowhere to go.
Little by little, the clientele departed and the servers began cleaning and packing up the tables. I paid, grabbed my bag, and started off. The lights on the terrace had been turned off, and only the streetlamps brightened the darkness.
I looked back into the restaurant and saw Lucas behind the bar, drying glasses in a rush. I don’t know why, but I wished he would look up and our eyes would meet.
Because that’s nice when you see it in a movie, right? That connection that’s like fate and that hits you with the force of a tsunami. You dream of it, but at the same time, you run from it, because love at first sight is impossible.
It’s just a dream.
And everyone should know that by now.
That love that explodes like a supernova from out of nowhere doesn’t exist. It’s an idealization, something we confuse with attraction, which is just a chemical reaction. It makes you look at a stranger’s lips and yours open like a simple reflex. Your hair stands on end whenever that other person looks at you. You quiver inside, and your muscles contract and your breathing turns shallow. It makes you feel good things. Sweet things. Unknown things. It’s that unique, personal aroma that unleashes your endorphins, and they invade your blood like a drug and turn you into an addict.
And soon you need another dose.
A smile.
