Ice Waves.
That's the name of his surf store.
I glance briefly at the floor to hide the smile that stretches my lips. Because, of course, he doesn't remember me, but he names his store after me.
I hold the two frappés, one in each hand, and approach the store that is open.
"Hello" I greet, expecting to see him inside, but quickly discover he is not there. I look around. The place is empty, which makes me furrow my eyebrows in displeasure. "Hello!" I shout again, but there's not a soul around.
I go deeper into the place, looking closely at the surfboard designs. I've never been a fan of surfing, I don't know anything about it, but I guess now there will be a lot of it in the rest of my life.
I smile at the thought.
I hear footsteps on the narrow stairs behind me, so I turn just i
