‘Deux mille-feuilles, s’il vous plait,’ Felix said to the woman behind the counter. She put them in a little brown bag for him and we walked again, moving out of the way for other shoppers in the little aisles.
‘Do you surf?’ I asked again, because I don’t know, this image of us at the beach together just flashed in my head.
‘I do not go to the beach. But you are hungry?’ he said with a smile that made me immediately forget to ask why the beach was off limits.
‘Starving,’ I said.
‘You will come to the Brasserie? I will make you whatever you like.’ His smile was so inviting that it was impossible to say no.
‘Sure,’ I said.
We paid and walked back the way I’d come. When we got to the bar, Felix pulled out a chair for me and handed me a menu.
I stared at it. ‘What should I have?’ I asked.
‘Do you like seafood?’ His eyes sparkled when he looked at me and I had to catch my breath.
‘I do.’
‘Moules frites,’ he said with certainty.
‘Bien sûr,’ I said, promising myself that I’d at leasttryto say something other thanmerciandbien sûrwhile I was here.
He disappeared into the kitchen and came out fifteen minutes later holding a steaming bowl of mussels and a plate of chips. He carried them to a table in the corner and I followed him.
‘The orange.’ He pointed to one of the brown bags I’d set on the table. ‘You should eat it for breakfast tomorrow, with some coffee. But no milk.’ He sat down opposite me. ‘The contrast. It will make both taste better.’
‘Oh my God, likeCécile!’ FromBonjour Tristesse. That’s what she eats. We’d read theFrançoiseSagan book this year in class. I was delighted with myself, remembering something from a class I’d barely paid attention in for a year.
He looked pleasantly surprised at my outburst. ‘J’avais dix-sept ans et j’étais parfaitement heureuse.’
‘I was seventeen and perfectly happy!’ I grinned – at least I remembered the first line. ‘You’ve read it?’
‘Many times.Cécile et sa voyage découverte de soi.’
I cocked my head in confusion.
‘Cécile and her journey of self-discovery,’ he translated.
‘Self-discovery. That’s relatable,’ I said with a laugh.
‘What do you mean?’ Felix immediately looked interested.
‘I don’t know. I think I’ve kind of forgotten who I am. Maybe, I don’t know …’ I shook my head, suddenly embarrassed.
‘And where is better than the French coast to discover yourself again?’ He smiled, with no judgement, sincere.
Then something in me relaxed. Something I didn’t even realize was so tightly wound, that loosening it meant everything inside me felt … lighter.
‘How long have you worked here?’ I asked. His leg brushed against mine under the table, but he didn’t move it out of the way, so I just let my knee rest against his, feeling the warmth of his skin against mine.
‘Not long. Last summer, this summer. Before that, I worked at the market, but now I only help my mother sometimes,’ he said.
‘What does she do?’ I asked, interested in a life so different to mine.
I chose a mussel and pulled opened the shell.
‘She makes, how do you say,du savon?’ His brow was creased in concentration.
