The Story of Last Summer

The Story of Last Summer - Introduction

Last summer was the beginning of it. If there was one time period that I could go back to, it would be last summer. There are so many perfect things about last summer. Everything was so simple. Everything just flowed. I didn't have to contemplate every single decision I made. Life would just decide for me. Everything fit. For a whole year I had to wonder why it had to end, but after thinking about it for a while, I realized that perfect things don't last. You're not meant to feel so much happiness in life. At least not all at once. 

'Ella, it's time to let go of it,' said the tender voice of my best friend, Hazel, 'I understand how beautiful it was, but it's been a whole year. It's time for you to move on. How about we go to a party tonight? Forget the beautiful things.' I had zoned out, as she said the word 'beautiful'. The word made me think of last summer.

'Hazel,' I said, 'I want to let go of it, really, more than anything, but I can't. Nothing's going to compare to that time.'

'So how about that party?' she asked me.

'I don't know if I'm feeling it,' I said, 'I just feel like staying home tonight.'

'That's what you say about every night! C'mon! It will really be great. It's at this awesome club just a few blocks away. We don't need to stay long. You just need something to get it off your mind.'

'I don't really feel like going to a party, but if you really want me to go out so badly, how about just a bar?' I ask.

Hazel's face brightens, 'That's good enough.'

Why did I choose to do this? The bar was packed with young people around our age and all of them were having fun, living life. While I was here sitting on a bar stool, alone, a pint in front of me, thinking about everything missing in my life. Hazel had went off somewhere probably with some guy. Why couldn't I just enjoy my life the way all these people were? Appearing next to me, however, was a nearly-6-foot guy, who looked around my age. He had brown, short, scruffy hair. He was quite good looking, but my vision was going slightly blurry thanks to the 8 drinks I had. He had probably noticed I was getting a little tipsy which was when he decided to make his move and hit on me or whatever.

'Yes?' I asked, staring at him judgmentally.

'You don't look like you're having a good time,' he said.

'I am sitting at a bar alone, aren't I?' I said.

He laughed, 'Yeah, what's with that?'

'Look,' I started, 'If you're looking for someone to hook up with, you're not gonna find that here.'

He put his hand up to his heart, as if to act 'hurt', 'It hurts that you think we're all shallow.'

I didn't say anything.

'I didn't come over here to hit on you, by the way,' he said, 'I'm genuinely concerned about you.'

'Do I really look that miserable?' I asked, blushing.

'So what's going on?' he asked.

'You're a stranger, why would I tell you?'

'My name's Stefan,' he said bringing out his hand, waiting for me to bring mine out and shake his with it. I laughed, but did it anyway.

'I'm Ella,' I said, blushing.

'Alright, so we're not strangers anymore,' he said, 'How about you tell me what's going on?'

'Nice try,' I said, 'Tell me about yourself, first and maybe I'll consider it.'

'C'mon, you're wasting my time. All I was thinking on my way here was that 'I hope she says yes to telling me what's going on in her life that's made her sit at a bar alone'. Don't let me down. My friends are gonna be so jealous if you tell me.'

I laughed, 'I need to know if you're fit enough to know, though.'

He stood up, raising his eyebrows, lifted up his shirt, revealing a smooth six pack and said, 'Oh, please, I'm definitely fit enough.'

I was literally almost in tears from laughing so hard, 'C'mon. I need to know about you before I tell you.'

'Fine,' he said, 'I'm 22 years old, lived here in New York for 4 years, previously in Chicago. I've got a 25 year old sister and a 17 year old brother. That good enough for you?'

'Tell me about like what you're into.'

He sighed, 'Music, reading, soccer. That's it really.'

I smiled, 'What music do you listen to?'

He squinted, 'I don't know,' he said, 'I really like The Temper Trap, Two Door Cinema Club, MGMT and then stuff like The Arctic Monkeys, The Kooks. Anything like that really.'

'Sorry,' I said, 'I'm gonna have to stop you there.' His eyebrows raised. 'The correct answer would've been more like Kesha or Justin Bieber,' I said. Stefan's eyes went wide.

'Please tell me you're joking,' he said. I kept a straight face for about 15 seconds before bursting out into giggles. 

'You're a terrible person,' he said.

'At least I don't actually like Kesha or Justin Bieber.'

'What do you like, then?'

'Literally every band that you just mentioned.'

'I really hope you're not joking this time,' he said.

'I'm definitely not joking this time,' I replied.

'Alright so am I good enough to tell now?'

'You remind me of someone,' I tell him.

'Cool,' he says, 'Now tell me what's up.'

'I want to tell you, but you really wouldn't understand. It's a massive story that would be way too hard and long to explain.

'I like stories,' he said.

'I don't think I'll be able to tell the whole thing by the end of tonight, though.'

'Then we can meet up again and you can tell me the rest,' he said, goofily smiling.

'Fine,' I said.

So this begins the story of last summer.