Page 7 of Lost Summer
“Here’s to an unforgettable weekend!” I shouted, raising my can toward her, leaving behind the remnants of sober hesitation as she mirrored my gesture, her laughter bubbling over the sound of the crowd.
“To unforgettable weekends!” She clinked her can against mine, sending a rush of energy through me as we each tipped back our drinks, taking large gulps that burned just a little.
“Should we find a spot to sit?” Adele asked, glancing over the sea of buzzing bodies. “I say we settle down before we lose the energy to get up again.”
“Great idea.” I grinned. I led us through the heaving crowd, dodging elbows and flailing limbs as we made our way toward the stage.
“Over there! That looks like a good spot!” Adele pointed toward a patch of grass bordered by a row of hay bales, where a bunch of people sat with waves of joy washing over them as a band kicked into their next song. “So what now?” Adele asked, her voice barely rising above the music as she took another sip from her can, watching me through her eyelashes.
“Now? Well, how about we dance?” I suggested, feeling bold.
“Dance? In this?” she whispered, her expression torn between excitement and disbelief, her cheeks flushing deeper in the warm yet rainy night.
“Absolutely,” I replied, gesturing toward the stage where the next band was warming up. The thumping bass vibrated through me.
Adele smirked, a small laugh escaping her lips as she rolled her eyes. “You’re on. But don’t judge my moves. I can only do the awkward shuffle.”
I laughed, my heart racing with exhilaration as I took her hand, leading her out of the circle and into the sea of swaying bodies. We made our way to the front of the crowd, where a group of familiar faces bounced in time to the advancing notes.
When the band kicked into their catchy opening track, I pulled her closer, feeling the warmth of her body against mine, the connection between us growing with every heartbeat. It was such a rush.
Adele danced like no one was watching, lost in the rhythm. Her movements were playful, sometimes teasing, and I liked how she would glance over her shoulder to catch my eye, a cheeky grin spreading across her face as she wiggled her hips. I followed her lead, embracing the moment with laughter, executing my version of the dance moves she called the shuffle.
“This is ridiculous!” she yelled through a fit of giggles, her eyes shimmering with delight. “I love it!”
“See? Not so awkward after all!” I shouted back, matching her energy. The sound of her laughter rumbled in my chest, like music beneath the blaring speakers.
The crowd surged and pushed me closer to her, and suddenly, I was driven by an impulse I could no longer ignore. I leaned down, brushing my lips against her ear as I inhaled her intoxicating scent. She smiled at me like she was telling me it was okay. I grinned back, losing myself to the music once more.
“Wow, I didn’t expect this!” she exclaimed, her cheeks flushed and gleaming from the combination of the music, the dancing, and the spattering of rain that had become heavier yet still refreshing, like a shower after a long day.
“It’s even better than I imagined!” I agreed, unsure what I was referring to—the festival, the music, or how she made me feel just by being beside me.
Adele raised her drink, splashing a bit on my cheek.
I chuckled, wiping it away with my thumb and meeting her gaze, feeling the spark ignite again. We were lost together in this wild moment, entirely engulfed by the joy of being young and alive.
“Let’s find a place to sit again. Grab more drinks, maybe,” I suggested, reluctant to break the spell our dance had cast but aware that tiredness would soon settle in if we didn’t rest.
“Okay!” She nodded, eyes shining with mischief. “But only if you promise to share your deep philosophical theories on music while we’re sitting.”
“Deal.” We started edging toward the fringes of the crowd, our fingers laced.
God, this feels so right.
But I had only just met her, barely twenty minutes ago! My heart raced as I tried to wrap my head around it—the sheer impossibility of it all. Yet here I was, picturing some fantastical future where we told our grandkids one day, sitting withwrinkled hands and silver hair, how we’d met by chance at a music festival. Adele’s voice snapped me out of my reverie.
“Just so you know,” Adele teased, her tone mock serious, “I might need to take a break soon. Dancing is exhausting!”
“Know this: the deeper the exhaustion, the better the memories,” I replied, smirking as I glanced sideways at her. “And trust me, I’m here to make memories.”
“You’re quite the philosopher!” she exclaimed as we navigated back through the throngs of people huddled under makeshift tents. Some were secure in cosy circles of warmth, while others withheld energy and excitement, their eyes sparkling with anticipation.
“Just trying to sound smarter than I really am,” I joked, watching her smile dance in response.
As we found a spot near a low wooden fence that lined the festival grounds, I prepped us for another round of drinks. “What will it be?” I asked, eyeing the busy bar stall flanked by a line of eager festival-goers.
“Something fruity, please. Let’s stay away from the lager for a while!” she declared, her grin transparent and refreshing.
