State of Summer: Love and Misadventure of a College Student

By Archway Publishing

Summer Hayes is new to heartbreak when a guy shes dating cheats on her during her first year of college in Los Angeles. Now distrusting men and determined to take advantage of her new single lifestyle, Summer decides to record every detail of her journey to redefine herself. She has no idea that her decision will soon lead her down a dangerous path and send her life spinning out of control.

After surviving a freshman year that turns out to be even more superficial than high school, Summer moves back into the dorms at her dream school, where she has the coolest job on campus and a new group of friends. Unfortunately, there is only one thing missing: the perfect guy. Even as a past love captivates her thoughts, Summer willingly accepts lust instead of love and abandons all personal responsibility. Led by a desire for revenge, she engages in late-night debauchery, choosing to live without regrets. Now only time will tell if she can live up to her new mantra and finally forget about the one person who constantly occupies her thoughts.

State of Summer shares the compelling journey of a California college student as she struggles to keep pace with the life she has created for herself and faces the consequences of her lost innocence.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Jan 2, 2014
• ISBN: 9781480804388

Book preview

Part 1

September 17, 2009

Six to twelve. Six was the number of boys that I hooked up with in high school, including boyfriends and casual dating. Twelve is the number of college students I have hooked up with since losing my virginity to Alexsander, over a span of about five months. Crazy? Maybe for some. At least I’m not surpassing the sorority girls at UCLA—more harshly known as the sorostitutes on campus. Since I am not in a sorority, I have slid into another category—the make- out slut. This is not the easiest thing to describe, but it may help you realize the winding path I went down. Hold on. Let me define hooking up before you go jumping to conclusions. Hooking up can mean anything. However, when I say that, I mean everything except for sex. I’m talking the nitty-gritty, the heated make-out sessions, and all the way to the nude on nude. Don’t get me wrong; it wasn’t like these hook-ups weren’t going all the way. It’s just that I didn’t allow them to. After all the gruesome sex-ed classes in high school, including the personal talks with my parents, there was no way I was going to get with just any boy. I knew way too much for my own good, which could be more of a curse than a blessing in college.

Now let’s talk about the most forgotten of the years, the almighty in-between year that always gets overlooked, both in high school and in college—sophomore year, better known as second year in college terms. This year was the defining moment, when my life began to spin out of control. The number twelve had turned into sixteen, and sixteen turned into twenty, and I was beginning to lose my mind. I had to separate school from reality, as I would run into two people I had hooked up with. And my luck? Of course, the two gorgeous college men knew each other.Actually, they more than knew each other.They were teammates on the swim team.You would think I had learned a lesson my first year in college. Unfortunately, freshman year of college was a failed attempt at redefining myself and starting over.

In high school, I worked my ass off to get good grades so I was able to get accepted into my all-time dream school, UCLA. I was judged for being the cheer captain that had too many troubled friends. Throughout high school, I was told I had it all, when in reality I had close to nothing. My dad was pretty much out of the picture. I lived with my mom, who could barely make it from paycheck to paycheck. To top it all off none of my teachers believed that the popular cheerleader could actually apply herself. I got accused of cheating on tests way too many times to count, and I couldn’t seem to catch a break. I couldn’t tell the difference between what was superficial and what was real anymore.

Freshman year in college turned out to be even more superficial than high school. Having a roommate who practiced witchcraft and hung voodoo dolls as well as another roommate who played World of Warcraft fourteen hours a day was horrible. Eventually one of the voodoo dolls was named Summer, after me. I took offense that she would insult my name like that. My full name is Summer Hayes but my mother named me Summer after the season, of course. Naming me after a season had a lot to do with the fact that summer is my mom’s favorite season. The irony of it all is that Southern California feels like summer year round. It never cools down here but is beautiful to say the least. Not a comparison that could be made with a creepy voodoo doll.

I tried to fit in with just about anyone who would accept my brutal sarcasm. I was also working thirty hours a week in retail over in Santa Monica. My dream school turned out to be a miserable place of shame, darkness, and extreme loneliness. It wasn’t until I finally decided to apply for the most wanted job on campus—Campus Events. Campus Events brings in celebrities studded events to campus for free. I was offered a position in their films event staff—that finally brought back to life! In the span of a month, I found a new kind of family—a high class of social hipsters just like me. I finally began to veer away from all the mistakes I’d held on to earlier that year. I finally started to grasp reality, such that UCLA was exceeding my expectations of being my dream school. I just had change the way I was running my life and accept the changes that were coming for me! So I quit my job in retail, put my big-girl shoes on, and walked away from that life I once knew as freshman year.

6237.png

As I move back into the dorms for my second year in a row, I didn’t know what to expect. I had been screwed over with the roommate situation at the end of last year, and all I knew was I had been paired with a third-year senior on her way to graduating soon and suitemates who were best friends the year before. How was I going to fit in? I had new roommates I needed to fit in with, and I had a new internship with Campus Events that I had juggle on top of classes. So I had the dream school, the dream job, and the coolest major on campus— cultural studies. So what was I missing? Of course, the perfect boy.

Deep down, I had the image of the perfect boy in my mind— tall, brunet, and blue eyes. Of course it would only be fitting if he had the bad-boy touch to him. The thing was, I had already found this match. Maybe he wasn’t perfect, but he fit the description. Actually, I’ve known him most of my life. His name is Zach Taylor. Every time I think of him, feelings crawl out of the deepest parts of me. Parts I never knew existed. Perhaps that’s the real reason why I didn’t have sex with these beautiful, immature, and irresponsible college boys— because the image of Zach always springs back into my mind.

Zach and I both come from a small suburb in San Diego. Knowing everyone you went to high school with in this small community is quite common. Everyone knows everything about each other’s secrets. That’s where the problem lies: having a relationship is nearly impossible with anyone back home because the relationship is likely to be destroyed within a few days. All of the secrets come out to play. Only a lucky few can escape this fate, and I am clearly not one of them. I still can’t ever seem to let go of Zach. It’s like an addiction that I constantly try to quit cold turkey that always comes back to bite me in the ass. Not only did I fall in love with him—he is also one of my best friends. Our friendship is not something either of us ever wanted to lose, and that’s why we never seemed let go of each other. It’s quite unhealthy but it seems to work, regardless of the judgments our friends make about us.

I was only fifteen years old when I got to know him.The butterflies of my teenage angst consumed me as my knees crumbled beneath me. I may have only been fifteen, but I knew what I wanted and it was him. I first noticed Zach freshman year of high school. My cheer squad practiced every day after school in the smoldering San Diego heat.We practiced on the field adjacent to the baseball field.That was one of the many perks of practicing after school. The baseball boys got to check out our butts when we bent over to stretch. In return, we checked out theirs in those skintight baseball pants. Zach was on the JV baseball team at the time, and he captivated me because I tend to be attracted to the tall guys who seem out of proportion. Not to mention his beautiful dark-brunet hair and bright blue eyes. My cheer squad—of course, myself included—checked out everyone else on the baseball team. In fact, my first kiss was with one of the varsity baseball players that same year. I had an intense infatuation with him at the time and knew I had no chance with Zach, considering I had no in with his group of friends. Somehow, I always knew in the back of my mind that eventually I would get to know him sooner or later. Once I get going, there is no stopping me, even if I know I am making a terrible decision. Getting closer to Zach may have taken three years, but this is only proof that I normally get what I want.

6220.png

I started hanging out with Zach through our mutual friend Felix my senior year of high school. Felix is our Asian friend of large build who is quite the rebel but you could never get mad at him because he’s just one big teddy bear. Zach and I have been close with Felix for a while now and I have a feeling our threesome of friendship wont retire anytime soon. I wouldn’t say Zach and I had an instant connection, but there was something there. Not something that could be described or that someone could put their finger on. Something different. Our connection was not something that could be shared with someone else. It was something that pulled from the soul. The connection was a mutual experience that was not something either of us ever could talk about.Talking about it would open doors that we both weren’t ready for. Not knowing how to describe those types of feelings at such a young age left us both in a world of confusion and restraint from the unknown.

Also, Zach wasn’t the type of person who would share his feelings with anyone else. However, there were moments when we were alone when he would mention very personal, life-changing incidents to me. He did it with such casualness; it was like the way he would order his coffee every morning— second nature. I’ve spent the last three years of my life trying to understand him, but I don’t even think the top psychologists in the world could pinpoint what goes on his brain. I think that’s what attracts me to him so much; all I ever do is study him like some new species on this planet. Zach is like a constant puzzle waiting to be solved.

It wasn’t until Felix’s dad passed away my freshman year in college over Spring Break that the three of us became inseparable on a very emotional level. The overwhelming need to be there to comfort and sympathize with Felix, brought Zach and I closer than ever. One night when a group of us threw a party for Felix to help make him feel better, Zach and I wandered off for a night walk once Felix passed out drunk. That was the first time he really looked into my eyes and we kissed for the first time. In fact it was more than just a kiss. It was a four-hour make-out session with so much passion I probably could have ended up in a hospital from a severe neck strain. But I didn’t. Instead I ended up cuddled next to him. We later fell asleep in the cramped backseat of my Honda Civic.

While hooking up, being with him, and having only the material of our clothes separating us felt so unreal. I felt like I was in one of those dreams that you never wanted to wake up from. Falling asleep in his arms just felt so right. It made me feel like I could forget about everything else in this world.The moment would’ve lasted till the next morning but I woke up to a text from my mom worrying that I hadn’t come home because something bad happened to me. That magical moment only lasted one mystifying night and everything went back to normal between us for the next few months.

For the both of us, it was as if nothing had ever happened, like it was all a dream. Oddly that moment in my car did nothing to disrupt our friendship. However, that intimacy we both shared on that beautiful night had been stored in the attic of our minds, for now. Maybe it was because spring break was over and I had returned back to college, or maybe it was because we both had to refocus our emotional attention back to Felix. I didn’t want to lose that emotional connection we had that night and I needed to find a way to prevent that from happening. I was so scared. I don’t get why I never get a chance at love. Is it me? Do I push people away? I wish I knew how to deal with things like this but all I’ve ever known for that past year is that rush of being in college and meeting fresh new faces. I guess I will never know.

My moments shared with Zach left me completely lost and confused. Zach and I have had occasional drunken hookups when I came home for summer vacation. Both of us knew that there were no strings attached. It was a beautiful thing that neither of us wanted a relationship but it was also emotionally draining. Considering we’re best friends, our occasional hook ups left lots of unspoken feelings. The hookups kept happening. I began to realize that if he truly cared for me and wanted to be with me, he’d man up and talk to me about it. Either that, or he’d let me move on. Since the former never happened, I took initiative on the latter. I needed to find a way to move on if my expectations for him aren’t met. I looked at other couples and wonder if I’m ever going to have what they have. All I know is that the relationships that I’d been in have ended in disaster. When will it be my turn to open up to love? I’ve desperately waited. Time is the worst thing that gets in the way. I wasted my time thinking about him. Distracting myself, I focused my attention back to the beautiful men at UCLA.

6242.png

My thoughts echo back to sophomore year, as they have fallen off track again. Having met even more people than the year before means even more parties, more boys, and more memorable nights. Let’s be honest, there are way more girls on this campus that are prettier than I am. Come on! I am five-foot two after all, and these girls stomp this campus like models. Not to mention I have long brunette hair, light brown eyes and an average body type. The description I just gave of myself probably doesn’t sound so bad, but living in Los Angeles, that puts me in the bottom tier. I seem to be swimming in sea of blonde over here. At least I have the tan working for me. Even though I’m mostly German and Irish, I somehow I ended up with an amazing golden skin tone. I look a lot like my mom but absolutely nothing like my dad. Growing up, I was convinced my dad couldn’t be my real dad, but he is.

Luckily in college, it isn’t a beauty contest. It’s a race to the top in all sense of the phrase.Which girls can get the most guys? Which girls can capture the most attention? With over thirty thousand people on this campus and about twelve thousand of those are females, it makes the dating scene a much more difficult game. This means plenty of men to go around, but being that girl takes so much more than simply being yourself. It’s a lifestyle. However, this isn’t just about vying for male attention, this lifestyle has become my biggest outlet and my biggest distraction from Zach. It infuriates me that someone who is over one hundred miles away, has the capability to constantly consume my mind. So here’s a cheers to finding new friends, new boys, and finding myself.

This overwhelming sense of hopelessness ignited a fiery attitude inside me as I sat on my super small dorm bed that can barely fit a small child, let alone myself. Okay, so maybe UCLA is a very big ocean with a lot of very attractive fish. From here on out, I am going to challenge everything, live my life to fullest, and finally live life on a whim. I’m going to take things as they come and not regret them afterwards. Regretting something makes me feel bad about myself, and that is not something I can do anymore.

I pounded my fist against the wall.The words,I can do this! burst from a place deep in my soul as my suitemate Alina came crashing into my room unexpectedly.

Summer! Who are you talking to? She directed at me with flustered confusion.

Um, err…no one. My YouTube video was just on full blast. Over now. I quickly shut my laptop as if I had been using it. What’s up? Oh. Well get dressed in something skanky! We’re going out tonight. Alina is my suitemate, AKA the girl who shares a wall with me. Literally her bed is directly on the other side of the wall. She lives in the room next door and our bathroom connects to both rooms. Alina is a tall, thin, Russian girl with brunette hair down to her butt. Her hazel eyes could pierce a hole though your heart in all their mystifying beauty. This girl could be a model, no one I could really compete against. I love her though, since there never seems to be a dull moment between us. So far in the few days that I’ve known her, we’ve got along great.

Hm okay! Where at?

Does it even matter? It’s thirsty Thursday on zero week nonetheless! But the Zeta boys are throwing an around the world party, she said— not even allowing me the option to back out.

Thursday nights here at UCLA are the nights when the most students go out because it keeps the high school students clear of our outings. Zero week is the week before college starts back up so everyone was getting their— for lack of better words— shit together for school. That means zero week is the last chance to really let loose before the school year starts.

Sounds great! Is coming? Ivy is my other suitemate. Ivy on the other hand is a barely five-foot tall hippie from Berkeley with blue eyes and long blonde hair that forms into the most perfect beach waves one has ever seen. It seriously isn’t fair but there is no reason to be jealous of her because she is so bluntly honest and real.

No…unfortunately. That little thing is going on a smoking adventure with Tom tonight.

That news was a little disappointing, that girl was about the only person lately who kept my confidence lit. To have that effect on me already and I’ve known her for a few days made her even more special to be around. She seemed to make life so much easier.

Oh well, maybe tomorrow night, I thought to myself. This weekend was just getting started! Of course, when is that girl not smoking the devil’s lettuce? Anyways give me like twenty minutes and I’ll be ready! Do you have any alcohol? I got up from my bed and began my hunt for a good outfit.

Just the cheap stuff but if we go swipe at Bruin Café for some chaser then I think we should be okay. Get some of that Strawberry Fanta and the cheap will be stripped right from your mouth!This girl must have a tolerance for alcohol like a fish does for water. I’m pretty sure for a lightweight like me, nothing could help sooth the pain of sipping down bottom shelf— no scratch that, more like basement shelf vodka from your mouth.

Sounds like a plan. I tried not to cringe.What are you wearing tonight?

Anything that’s not that. Alina pointed to my roommates closet with a look of disgust on her face.

I don’t blame her. Once again I got paired with a roommate that wasn’t suited to my lifestyle. I couldn’t complain though, at least my roommate this year— Sireesha is more than willing to compromise on everything. Living with her is a lot easier than living with a sage burning, voodoo doll making, crazy person like last year. Luckily, she is a third year and will be graduating early. She was almost never here and she will be moving out early once she finishes. Sadly,Alina had a point. Sireesha doesn’t have the most sensible taste in fashion, or decorating her side of the room for that matter. Sireesha is a beautiful young woman—with all her dark features and amazing olive complexion, but she hides it behind all her baggy and dull clothing. I give the girl credit for trying, though. Maybe some people like her just shift their focus on other important things like studies or… time management?

Don’t be so harsh Alina, you look beautiful in a potato sack.What makes you think you can’t make something of hers look hot? I said.

Is that a sarcastic ploy to make me feel better about myself? I winced at her statement.

I meant the part about the potato sack, I shot back. She gave me a playful eye roll and I cringed when I thought of my own closet and what I was going to wear for the night.

6248.png

ALINA WALKED into my room around ten o’clock sporting black booty shorts, a purple corset, and high-knee black boots. Holy cow!

And where are you supposed to be from Alina?

Girl. That’s the thing, I’m Lady Gaga. This girl could really confuse me sometimes.

I thought the theme was supposed to be around the world? Shit. I looked down at my pathetic outfit compared to what she was wearing.That girl really could wear a potato sack and still look hot. Me on the other hand, I went with the Hawaiian look. It took me all of five minutes to throw on a bikini top, some ripped up shorts, and a cheap plastic lei that I found in my closet.

It is!

Huh? I thought to myself. I don’t understand you, I said confused.

Exactly. Like where is Lady Gaga from anyways? Outer space? No one really knows… So I’m out of this world! Get it? I laughed and realized that only in Los Angeles could someone pull this off.

Girl. I love you. Let’s just get drunk, I’m going to need some liquid confidence if I am going to pull this outfit off standing next to you. I don’t consider myself to be overweight at all, but standing next to this girl who rocks a freaking twelve-pack, I suddenly feel like a fat troll.

Alina gave me a quick frown and immediately turned chipper. Summer, you’re funny. I think this year is going to be a lot of fun having you around. She gave me a quick wink and threw her arm around my shoulder. I couldn’t help but think if I were attracted to girls I would be in trouble.

Three shots later, we were both buzzed and ready to go out. We took the elevator all the way down to the lobby. This took a while because we live on the ninth floor of our dormitory, which we call the Penthouse Level because the ninth floor is the top floor. On the way down, my mind began to twirl as I felt the tinge of the cheap alcohol drop quite harshly into my stomach. A few seconds later we hit the ground floor. After the doors opened, I felt like I had stepped into a parallel universe as the sight of a very familiar and unwelcome face greeted me. I remembered that blond-shaggy hair and those stinging- blue eyes very well. Shit. It was him.

Alexsander.

September 17 Continued

Alexsander, hi! Alina squealed as she threw herself at Alexsander and gave him a warm welcoming hug.

What the fuck? How does she know him? My subconscious started yelling shit like a broken record and all I wanted to do at that moment was hide. I was a small snail making my way back into my shell. The minute I did, the foot of a tall Lithuanian man came crashing down to shatter my shell and all was exposed.

Summer. Alexsander nodded and directed his brooding blue eyes over in my direction. I flush with unwelcome anger.

Alexsander.

You two know each other? Alina looked uncertain.

As annoying as it was that of course Alina had to know him out of all the boys on campus, I am glad she was here to keep me from flaring. There was an overwhelmingly awkward silence until Alina broke it.

Alexsander, want to come out with us tonight?

Okay maybe I spoke too soon. No no fuck. This seriously couldn’t be happening on my first night out back at school. This night was supposed to be a night of redemption, not one