THAT SUMMER I MET HIM

Everything in this book is a work of fiction. Therefore, names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are use fictitiously.

Any resemblance to real persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

© A.G_2018

Prologue

I did a double take.

I have to make sure.

I do not want to make assumptions. I don’t want my heart to be broken again.

I stared at him, alive and well and handsome, as always.

The leaves fell down around us. The summer sun’s heat pierces my skin but I couldn’t care less. The sunlight bathed everything with that fairytale glow. The sweet breeze blew. The kids walking hand in hand as they ate their ice cream sort of brought me back into the past. Today was like the day I met him: Me, riding a bicycle and him, walking down the pavement.

Except that in the past, I met him here, because he was crying but now, he is not. He is smiling so wide that he even have the guts to flirt with the girls. I grab the handle of the bicycle and watch him as he make his way towards me. I do not know why I feel nervous. A trickle of sweat drip on the side of my face, my heart beat fast and I could hardly breathe. He was meters away, until it grow shorter to a foot and then bam, he bumped into me and we fall down, him on top of me.

This felt like a deja vù, like it was our very first encounter.

We scurried to get up but ended up bumping our heads together. I glared at him as he got up, He didn't even offer me a hand. He didn’t even give me a second glance.

He just passed by me. Not noticing me. Not even looking at me.

I do not know which hurts more. Hearing about his death and believing that I am delusional right now thinking of seeing him as a ghost. Or seeing him, alive and well, as he pass me by. Not even a glance or a look of familiarization.

I felt my heart constrict and my face redden. I let go of the bicycle and turn to face him. I remove the helmet that I was wearing and grip it tightly before screaming, “YAH!

He turn to face me and gave me a weird look. He just stood there and it gave me a moment to admire his beauty. He was like a real life Adonis. The young cupid has now bloom into a very beautiful god. My eyes held his blue eyes. His eyelashes are so long that it brushes his cheek every time he blinks. His nose was a bit crooked; maybe he’s gotten into fights before and his lips, same as before. They are shaped like cupid bows and have the color of the deepest red.

His laugh caught me off guard as it woke me from my