THE LAST SUMMER
Written by
John Doe
SARAH (28, anxious energy) pushes through the door. She scans the crowded café, clutching her phone.
She spots MARCUS at a corner table, waves awkwardly. He looks up from his laptop and smiles.
SARAH
(approaching)
Hey. Sorry I'm late.
MARCUS
No worries. I got you a cappuccino.
She sits, grateful but tense. Steam rises from the cup between them.
SARAH
Thanks. So... how have you been?
MARCUS
(hesitant)
Good. Busy with work. You know how it is.
An awkward silence. Sarah fidgets with her cup. Marcus won't meet her eyes.
SARAH
I saw your Instagram. The trip to Iceland looked amazing.
MARCUS
Yeah, it was. I wish you could've—
Never mind.
She winces. The weight of their history hangs between them.
Rain-slicked pavement reflects neon signs. Sarah walks quickly, collar up against the wind.
Her phone BUZZES. She pulls it out — a text from Marcus: "We should talk."
She stares at the screen, thumb hovering over the keyboard. Types something. Deletes it. Types again.
Finally, she pockets the phone and keeps walking.
Small, cluttered. Takeout containers on the coffee table. Sarah enters, dripping wet.
She tosses her keys on the counter, peels off her jacket. Notices a framed photo on the shelf — her and Marcus, laughing, from years ago.
She picks it up, traces his face with her finger.
SARAH
(to herself)
What the hell am I doing?
She sets the photo down, face-first. Pulls out her phone and opens the message thread.
Types: "When?"
She hits send before she can second-guess herself.
Same table. Same cappuccinos. Different energy.
MARCUS
I've been thinking about what you said.
About us.
SARAH
(nervous)
And?
He reaches across the table. His hand hovers near hers, not quite touching.
MARCUS
I think... maybe we were too young back then.
We wanted different things.
SARAH
What do you want now?
He finally meets her eyes. A beat of honesty.
MARCUS
I want to try again.
If you do.
Sarah's breath catches. She places her hand over his.
SARAH
(softly)
I'd like that.