It’s almost summertime. Single folks, you know what that means: time to look for that elusive, seemingly mythical summer love. Whether you eye your mermaid (or merman) emerging from the surf during your beach vacation, notice an old friend from high school has suddenly gotten attractive or feel the spark with a coworker at your summer internship, love (or at least lust) is in the air. But most of these flings end up cooling with the weather. The bright summer sun can get in your eyes when the romantic heat starts to rise. These fast and furious affairs and attempts at love may not always work, but they sure do leave you with some good stories — which is just what happened with these Gamecocks. *Names have been changed to save these people from reliving that embarrassing summer love hangover.
Sibling Rivalry
“When I was 15, my sister and I spent the summer working at a horseback riding barn. I helped with lessons, groomed the horses, cleaned stalls, etc. There were a lot of other people around my age who worked there and we had a lot of down time when we would just hang out while the instructors had lessons.
One of the guys I worked with was probably one of the most attractive men I’ve ever met in my life, even now. He was jacked, first of all — huge biceps, probably had a six-pack at the age of 16. He had these huge blue eyes and a perfect smile. My awkward, weird teenage self was obsessed. I spent all summer trying to figure out how to get him to like me. It was pathetic, really. I volunteered to work on all the same lessons, jumped to help find equipment he was looking for and always chatted him up during lunch. Apparently, my sister liked him too. I didn’t find this out until after I worked up the courage to ask him out, and he very unenthusiastically agreed.
My sister and I got home after work, and I immediately started getting ready to go out. My sister asked me what I was getting ready for, and I told her I was going to the movies with the guy. Suddenly, she makes this weird shriek, punches me in the boob and storms off to her room without saying anything. The best part? The guy texted me last minute to cancel and then never brought it up again for the rest of the summer.”
Alexis*, 20, third-year nursing student
(Not) OK Cupid
“Last summer, I had a great internship in a city far from home where I didn’t know anybody. My Craigslist roommates were bizarre — one liked to salsa dance in the living room and the other looked like a hunchback — and I was pretty much on my own. Without friends or cable to keep me busy, I fell into the dark world of online dating. I made an account on OkCupid because it was free and the infinite number of questions kept me busy when I couldn’t sleep.
After a few days, I found a guy who was an 89 percent match. He was 29 and average looking, but we seemed to have a lot in common, so I thought, ‘Why not?’ I gave him my number, because I hated messaging on the site, and that’s when things got weird. He texted me creepy things like, ‘Is it weird that I’m really into how young you are?’ I told myself he must just be an awkward texter or something. We make a date despite the early signs telling me to run.
The night of the date, I text him to ask whether I should meet him at the restaurant, and apparently he’s forgotten completely and is out of state. He begs for my forgiveness and, idiot that I am, I let him make a new date for a week later. The next week, I meet him at a restaurant—a sketchy Mexican place that’s literally under a bridge. My chicken taco has a sharp bone shard in it, and there’s salt in my margarita. He’s awkward, but seems well-meaning. Against my better judgment, I agree to see him again later in the week.
When I go to his apartment, I know that the creep instincts I’ve been fighting were right. Everything is white or beige and dingy. He has barely any furniture. I get a distinct murdery vibe. Then, after a glass of wine, I go to the bathroom and there are earwigs crawling everywhere. I am fully convinced he has killed someone, and I am his next victim. I make up a random excuse and bolt, never to reply to any of his creepy texts again. Moral of the story: Don’t give anyone the benefit of the doubt; they are probably a murderer."
Courtney*, fourth-year international studies student, 22
Cougar Town
“Summer after freshman year, I went back home to work at my old high school job — McDonald’s. I spent almost 40 hours a week in that hot, smelly kitchen wearing my super attractive polyester polo. I left every day covered in sweat and smelling like French fries. Some of the people I had worked with in high school were still working there, but they always hire a lot of new people in the summers, mostly high school and college kids.
One of these new guys was named John, and he was beautiful. At least 6-foot-3, dark hair and green eyes, plus he was really goofy and friendly. He lived in the next town over, so we didn’t have any mutual friends … I don’t even think he had Facebook. So, I didn’t know too much about him other than what I learned from messing around at work, but I did know he was still in high school. It was early in the summer — high school was still in session — so I didn’t know if he was a senior, but he for sure had to be at least a junior (so at least, like, 17). I have a late birthday, so I was still 18, so it wasn’t going to be weird.
We had a flirty rapport at work, talking all the time and hanging out when the store was slow. I made my move in June. I was going to be hanging out with a few friends and a cheap bottle of vodka after work, and I gave him my number. He didn’t end up coming, but I got his number — I did the old ‘put my number in your phone and immediately text myself’ trick — and after a few drinks, I started texting him. He said something about school, so I used that as an excuse to ask how old he was. Apparently, he was 16.
I was mortified. I asked him, ‘But you’ll be 17 soon, right?’ Nope. He had just turned 16 two months ago. He was a sophomore in high school. Suddenly, I felt like the world’s creepiest cougar. My dignity and the law prevented me from flirting with him the rest of the summer.”
Sarah*, second-year English student, 19
