"We brought that cheap beer Matei stole from the corner store," he continues, "and those awful cigarettes I bought off that guy by the train station."
I shake my head, smiling despite myself. "They tasted like burnt rubber."
"I'm pretty sure they were burnt rubber."
We both laugh, and the sound fills the room. It's funny how that works with him. In an instant, it all can feel so normal.
Adrian's gaze drops to the floor, like he's seeing the memory play out in front of him.
"You couldn't stop coughing," he says. "You kept saying you were fine, but your face was red, and your eyes got all watery."
"I was fine," I protest.
He shoots me a look.
"Please, you threw up in the gutter on the way home."
"That was the beer."
Adrian laughs again, and the sound is perfect.
I sit up and move over a little toward him and look down at his hand holding mine, letting the memory wash over me.
The night air. The distant sounds of the city. Adrian's arm around my shoulders as we climbed back down.
"You kissed me that night," I say quietly.
His gaze shifts back to me, soft and steady.
"I did."
"On the roof. Under the stars," I say. "I thought it was so romantic, even if my mouth tasted like rubber."
He laughs. "Still, best kiss of my life."
My chest gets tight and Adrian's voice drops even lower.
"That's not what we say is our first kiss, though. You remember that one? Our first real date?"
"Bra?ov."
"Bra?ov," he repeats, his smile widening. "We all took the train up for the weekend, and you insisted we walk around Pia?a Sfatului for hours."
"It was beautiful."
"It was. And then you made me carry your bag."
I laugh, the sound breaking free before I can stop it. "You offered!"
"I was trying to impress you."
"Well, you did."
Adrian's gaze holds mine, and something shifts between us, something warm and familiar and tender.
"We stopped at that fountain," he says softly. "The one in the middle of the square."
"You bought me gelato."