Summer Fling

I was convinced there was nothing less attractive than knee-length shorts.

The ones I wore for work were baggy and only came in the ugliest shade of beige. I had just finished my third year of college and, after failing to secure a lucrative internship, I came back to work at the day camp I had attended as a child. Khaki shorts hadn’t seemed so bad then. Now I only focused on the fabric scratching my thighs.

“Welcome back, Mira,” my boss said curtly after glancing up from her clipboard. “You’ll be at the rock climbing wall today.”

I nodded and slung my drawstring bag over my shoulder. The rock climbing wall would involve the most strength, which would be difficult to muster in this heat.

I made the trek to the wall and opened the dusty shed. The equipment was exactly where I remembered it. I stepped into the harness and pulled the straps tight around my body. Even though I wouldn’t be climbing today, I still needed to be secure to help the campers.

“Back from school already, Mira?” someone asked behind me.

I turned around and felt a blush creep up my face when I saw the boy standing outside the shed.

Vincent had been a grade above me in high school. Everyone knew him because he had the football skills of an NFL player and a face worthy of a movie star. My friends and I once thought our swooning would fade over time, but here I was six years later and that face still gave me butterflies.

“One of your straps is loose. Mind if I fix it for you?”

I looked down at the loose strap hanging off my shoulder, then gave a meek nod. He proceeded over to me and pulled the strap tighter. His fingers brushed along my arm, and a shiver jolted through my body.

“I would have expected better from someone on the Dean’s List.”

“Honor Roll,” I grumbled, though the rankings of high school had long ceased to hold any relevance.

“Doesn’t matter. You still managed to get a top school across the country. How is it out there on the east coast?”

“Humid, and the beaches are terrible.”

He laughed as though I had said something thrilling, and I couldn’t hold back my smile.

“Come on, Mira. Let’s get these kids up a climbing wall.”

We didn’t talk much the rest of the shift, except to communicate which side we’d work on and how we would split the group of campers. I was glad he had his focus on the climbers above us and not the helmet smothering my curls. By the end of the day, my arms ached and my face had been scorched by the sun. It was all worth it, though, if it would go towards the fall’s tuition. One more year and I would be able to make a living back east for good.

After the last camper left for their next activity, I tore the gloves from my hands and dumped my equipment into the bucket. I felt Vincent next to me, his breath on my neck.

“You know, you’ve changed since high school,” he said.

I bit my lip. I didn’t want to admit how my life had changed since I discovered curl cream and made a life for myself outside of books and AP exams. I spent my college years among my sorority sisters and pretending to enjoy frat parties. It was easy to forget that people from my hometown had never met that version of me.

“I think we all have,” I replied.

He nodded. “You have a point there. I just transferred to the closest state school and found that I like coding. Who knew?”

I gave a good-natured laugh. “Really? The captain of the football team is a secret computer nerd?”

He shrugged. “It was four years ago, ya know? And that’s where all the money is these days. Technology and finance.”

I nodded as though I hadn’t heard this spiel from a thousand other college boys. “It wins over my poli sci degree for sure.”

We walked out of the shed and onto the dusty campground. I could see the way the sun glinted off his brown hair and illuminated his sun kissed skin.

“Hey Mira, are you doing anything tomorrow night?”

I shook my head. All of my friends from my hometown were either studying abroad or taking summer classes at their respective schools. During these months, work made up my entire social life.

“Let’s go on a date. There’s a nice restaurant that just opened up. Text me your address and I’ll pick you up.”

My face flushed. “I don’t have your number.” Of course I would say the most awkward thing that came to mind.

“Unlock your phone and hand it to me.”

I complied and watched as he added his contact. He even took a photo of himself along with it.

“Now you have no excuses. See you tomorrow at 7.”

I couldn’t contain my glee on the drive home. I found myself looking at the picture over and over again. It was special to have a photo of Vincent meant for my eyes only.

The next day, I tried on every outfit I had. I settled on a red dress I had bought for a sorority event and some black sandals. The A-line shape flattered my broad shoulders and narrow hips.

Like he promised, Vincent picked me up in front of my house at 7. He opened the door for me like a gentleman and I stepped inside. We made small talk on the drive - he complimented my dress, I commented on his new car. I could feel my heart threatening to beat out of my chest.

Vincent had made reservations, and the restaurant did not disappoint. Light danced off the crystal fixtures, and the windows had a stunning view of the suburban sprawl below us. He pulled out my chair for me and I crossed my legs as I sat.

“Anything to drink for you tonight?” the waitress asked us.

“Some wine, perhaps?” Vincent asked me.

I bit my lip. Most of the alcohol I’d ever consumed had been frat party beer or a sorority sister’s Two Buck Chuck. I had celebrated my twenty-first birthday only a month before, and finals week left little time for celebration.

“I’ll let you decide,” I said.

“How about the Merlot? What do you recommend?”

The waiter gave a quick nod. “You will find that our best selections are from Tuscany and Bordeaux. The Merlot has more fruit notes than our other selections and is usually aged in oak.”

“Let’s go with the one from Tuscany,” I said with all the confidence I could muster. I wanted to seem mature to Vincent, and when in doubt I could always rely on my mother’s Italian heritage to make a sure decision.

“One bottle of the Tuscan Merlot,” Vincent told the waiter.

Once we were alone, Vincent asked, “So, why did you come back here instead of spending summer in New York?”

“Well, I go to school in DC. New York has always been too flamboyant for my taste.”

He shook his head. “Of course it would be. Didn’t you spend high school with your nose in a book?”

I forced a smile. “Sometimes. I did other things too. I was in drama, and I ran track for two seasons.”

He pursed his lips. “Yeah. Some of the drama kids were weird. I had some friends who did track on the off season. Kept them in shape for football.”

“Right. So, what else have you been up to after graduation besides working and learning to code?”

He smiled and gazed into the distance, his eyes not quite focused on anything. “Look at you, asking all the hard questions. I’m working toward graduating, though I had some setbacks over the last few years. There were some, uh, incidents when I was assistant coaching the football team. I’m glad I picked a school closer to home, too. I’m not ready to totally move on yet.”

“What happened with the football team?” I asked.

“It doesn’t matter.” He looked back at me. “What does matter is how stunning you look in that dress. You know, I don’t remember you much from high school. You had braces, right? If you’d worn that dress in high school, though, then damn, I would have noticed you.”

I forced myself to grin at the back-handed compliment. I had had plenty of men objectify me before. There was the unwelcome groping at parties, the pressure to accept invitations to date parties, and even the one guy who tried to follow me home. Those had all been from strangers who never bothered to learn of my academic goals or talk about my passion for human rights campaigning.

Something about this stung in a different way, though. I will be the first to admit I looked different after high school. I knew this and I assumed others had too, but this was the first time anyone had told me directly. To have someone I admired tell me I was nothing in high school felt like a slap in the face, especially since he still seemed stuck in the teenaged mindset.

“You know, I wish more girls were into finance,” he continued. “I’ve made so much money in the S&P 500 alone! There’s something special about you, though. I can tell you wouldn’t mind listening to me talk about stocks. There’s a brain in that pretty head of yours.”

The waiter brought the Merlot and I had to restrain myself from downing the glass. I had made the right pick - it was delicious, and helped me keep my mind off the boy sitting across from me.

I thought he had seen something in me. It turned out he only saw me as a challenge, a woman he could seduce. I wondered if this trick had worked on other women before. It must have, since he’d had so many girlfriends in high school.

By the time the waiter returned to take our order, my date was deep into a one-sided conversation about stocks and bonds, and I hadn’t been able to get more than two words in.

“What else can I get for you?” he asked.

I spoke up. “You know what? I can feel my phone buzzing.” I opened my purse and pretended to check a message that wasn’t there. “It’s my brother. He’s home alone tonight, and he’s been feeling really sick. I should go make sure he’s okay.”

Vincent frowned. “I thought your brother was in soccer camp?”

“He got heatstroke today,” I lied. “I should go make sure he’s ok.”

“Of course, I will bring the check.”

“Let me pay for it,” Vincent said. “I insist.”

I reached into my purse and grasped a few bills, placing them on the table. “I’ve got my portion under control. Thanks, see you at work.”

I texted my mom as I strode through the restaurant and tried to ignore the happy couples around me. She replied that she would pick me up, and I took a seat on a bench outside.

Once I was alone, I made a quick internet search about Vincent. His stint as an assistant coach had ended two years ago, after he had been accused of overworking athletes and bullying freshmen. I felt a shudder run through me, though I couldn’t tell whether it was from disgust or the relief that I had dodged a major bullet.

A group of men in nice suits entered the restaurant for what I supposed would be a business dinner. Most of them paid me no attention, but one made eyes at my dress. He let out a low whistle and kept his gaze on me until he was out of sight.

I crossed my legs tight and waited for my mom to bring me home.