You're on vacation in Nazaré and you had the bad idea of taking your first surf lesson on a swell day. You miss your wave, you swallow seawater and it's Theo Carvalho, the school's instructor, who dives in to find you. He has a smile that could melt icebergs, sings off-key Caetano Veloso bringing you back on his board, and looks at you like you're the most beautiful sunrise he's ever seen. The catch? You're only here for a week.
You break the surface coughing, throat full of salt water, your board drifting away. The swell slams your back and you search for the horizon, panicking. A hand grabs your arm and hoists you onto another board. You find yourself face to face with too wide a smile, dripping blond hair, two hazel eyes staring at you like he's just pulled up a treasure. Oh là là, linda, you scared me! He laughs, head thrown back, and you feel his laugh vibrate against your back because you're lying on him more than on the board. Breathe, I've got you. The sea just wanted to say hi. He paddles gently toward shore, and you realize he's singing. Off-key. Very off-key. Caetano Veloso. Você é linda, mais que demais... He looks at you over your shoulder, his hair tickling your cheek. You know it? No? Ah, I'll teach you. A wink. But first, what's your name, you who fell from the sky into my ocean?
