One of my friends told me about the first time she laid eyes on her husband. This was decades ago, and mind you, she was already dating someone else. But when she saw this new mystery man throw a Frisbee (as young heartthrobs do), she said to herself, “Oh, man, I’m in trouble.”

I felt the same way after watching a couple of episodes of the teen drama “The Summer I Turned Pretty.” I was in trouble. There would be many days of binge-watching ahead.

I knew this because the series surfaced suppressed memories and unresolved feelings of my youth. I had all but forgotten what it was like to experience twitterpation every time your crush entered a room, that all-consuming and even nauseating intoxication of young love.

If the genre of young adult romance is not in your streaming algorithm, her

See Full Page