It was the summer of 1996, I was only 14 and he was about 20 or maybe a bit older I’m not sure. I don’t know much about him except for the fact that he was the lifeguard at “The Sunset” resort where my auntie booked a chalet for that season.
It all started when my baby bother who was only 4 was afraid of swimming in the pool. I saw him coming in my direction offering help. I didn’t say much because I was amazed by the sight of dark wide shoulders cradling my baby brother who to my surprise wasn’t afraid anymore!
– Is it the first time you come here? I never saw you before. My name is Mostafa, and he flashed me a wide smile.
He looked like “Henry Ramsay”, the character from the Australian series I was obsessed with, “Neighbours”, except he didn’t have blue eyes. They had the same long curly golden hair and a toasted complexion. Of course he had to make conversation with the group I was with (my two sisters & cousin) in addition to my baby brother floating around but I was getting most of his attention or at least I thought so.
My family left in the afternoon but I stayed because my cousin wanted me to sleep over, so I got to spend the following day there, too. What more could I ask for? I went to the playground in the evening and picked one of the only two swings there contemplating the sunset when he joined in. Without asking me he pushed the swing higher and higher till I thought I was about to reach the sky. He then sat on the other swing and we laughed hysterically.
I had a light breakfast the following morning so I could immerse myself in that mickey mouse shaped Olympic swimming pool. I wore this teal swimming suit that made me almost sure I was the little mermaid. We raced, pushed, splashed, and drowned each other in the pool and before I went up to lunch he dedicated Najwa Karam’s hit “3ala mahlak ya hawa 3ala albi”.
I bought him a strawberry & vanilla ice cream cone in the afternoon and before I left I asked him to stay tuned to “Delta” Radio station. I returned home sunburned about to peel my skin off, yet I was still had the energy to call that Radio program and dedicate a “Mostafa Amar” song to Mostafa : “Eftekerni”. I’m not certain if he heard the song, but I wanted to believe so.
It wasn’t before 2002 that I visited “The Sunset” once again. I was wondering if he was still there and to my surprise I saw him at the reception. I don’t know how he grew older that fast. I saw wrinkles around the eyes and silver threads among the gold in his hair. Also, wasn’t he taller than that? I walked towards him and said hello. It was pure pleasure to my ego when I discovered that he remembered me and he wasn’t just pretending because it read in his eyes.
“The Sunset” doesn’t exist anymore and I don’t know anything about Mostafa either. Wherever you are Mostafa, I wish you all the luck there is. It’s true you were my first crush but I never enjoyed any male’s company as much as I enjoyed those 1 and a half days with you.