Every girl has that one guy they will always label as the one that got away, well for me, this guy is My One.

We met when we were 15. He was a swimmer on my high school team.

First impression? Cute, nerdy and athletic.

The first time I was introduced to this boy was after a diving meet, he was sitting with a group of swimmers when I over heard him start complaining about the divers taking too long.

It was one of those moments when someone says something and instantly knows to stick their foot in their mouth, that was his reaction when the swimmers giggled and pointed to me standing there shaking my head. Next thing I knew he was asking me to homecoming.

This boy, My One, was my first date ever and I was so nervous. To make me even more nervous and add to the awkwardness of being teenagers, my mom decided it would be a genius idea to chaperone the dance.

Her little babies first date and dance, way to make it weird mom, thank you.

My One and I proceeded to go to pretty much every other high school dance together, every time just as friends.

For some reason we never took our relationship past the friend zone, not sure why, I just figured he lost interest so I moved on.

I dated other people, he dated other people, but somehow we always managed to be each others dates to our high school dances. That was true until prom rolled around our senior year. I really figured he would ask me due to our history.

Why break tradition right? We had even spoken about going together, but when it came time to go to prom, I didn’t hear from him, so I took one of my best girl friends instead.

She was a fantastic date.

When I arrived to prom I felt amazing. Being home schooled most of my life, I never thought I would get to go to a prom….(to be continued)

Sitting in church one day, I saw some delicious eye candy that my friend and I could not ignore.

He had piercing eyes and a killer smile, with an athletic build and was looking fine in his button down and tie. Who was this mysterious guy I had never seen before? My friend and I took it amongst ourselves to introduce ourselves.

Come to find out he was a student at one of the local Christian colleges who was trying out our church. So, the next week he came to church again, this time sitting with by us, his newly acquired cute friends.

My friend fancied him but was too nervous to ask for his number. She kept saying she couldn’t and said she knew I wouldn’t ask either.

Challenge accepted.

So, I turned around and asked for his number. He gave me his number and later told me he liked how aggressive I was about getting his number.

So he asked me on a date.

We went to see a movie and have dinner. I am not sure what movie it was, but all I know is that this sexy Brazilian was looking fine and that’s all that mattered.

His kiss tasted of minty goodness and he smelled so good, his cologne Acqua Di Gio. Can you say melt my heart by a smell. OH MY!

Now, at this time I had brown hair, I know, depressing right? It was a temporary lapse in hair colour judgement.

(Don’t worry people, never again will I make that decision….don’t hate me!)

However, I was thinking of going back to blonde because brunette just was not suiting me. So, while we talked I mentioned this.

His face went from happy to serious and he said to me “I like long, brown hair on girls. If you cut your hair and go back blonde, we can’t date.”

I thought he was joking at first, but he never called again. So, I went back blonde and happened to run into him.

When I saw him he just shook his head and said shame I changed my hair colour because we would have looked good together.

HA! I just looked at him and said, “Sorry Brazil, I like being blonde, get over it.” and that was that.

I have not spoken to him since.

My first real crush, and the one that has gone on for years, is with this Olympian.

However, I liked him before he made the Olympic team.

When I was 15 or so, my diving coach took us to a huge diving meet in Florida. That is where I saw him and instantly fell in love.

He had freckles on his face, brown hair, and stunning eyes along with a ripped body I could wash my clothes on. The tiny speedo, the love of the same sport as me and the fact his smile was to die didn’t help my love struck position either.

He was an up and coming American diver who I knew I needed to meet!

So, I was determined to get a picture of this gorgeous specimen of a diver. My teammates and I set out with my moms camera to find The Olympian and snag a picture.

I was borderline stalker status with the way I got the picture. We saw him walking around the pool deck, so we made our move. That is when he went into the men’s bathroom, which of course we couldn’t go into.

So what did we do? We waited outside the bathroom until he came out. Once he came out we asked to take a picture of him.

So as I set the camera to take a picture of him he laughed and said as he looked directly at me, “is anyone going to be in the picture with me, I don’t want to take a picture by myself.” I could not resist the eyes and the smile and volunteered myself to be in the picture with him.

So, I gave my friend the camera and that picture will forever be one of my favourites.

2008 Olympic trials I watched him win his event meaning he would represent the USA in the Olympics that year. I was cheering him on the entire time I watched.

That winter, my coach who is friends with the USA Olympic teams coach, decided to send a few of his divers to train with the Olympic team, including The Olympian. I was tickled pink when I found out I got to go, which meant seeing him again.

When we got to the first practice he actually remembered me. “Hey! You’re that Florida diver I met a couple of years back.” yes, yes I was.

Hopefully he forgot the part about me stalking him out of the bathroom to get a picture with him, but either way, stalking was totally worth it at that moment. I got my picture. I was a happy little diver.

He is going for the 2012 Olympics in London coming up this summer and my coach is letting his coach know that I will be here if they need anything.

Fingers crossed that he needs something, even something as little as a tour guide, maybe if lady luck is on my side, I’ll even get a date one day.

This section of the book is called

Stalker Status

 As a student athlete, you get plenty of perks when you’re going to school. One includes personal tutors to help you with your studies.

Being over-cautious, I booked a tutor for all of my non degree classes. One of those classes was biology, which after the first day I realised I did not need a tutor because it would be an easy class.

However, when I went to meet with the tutor he was this 36-year-old, single guy who was extremely awkward and had a rolling backpack that he would roll around campus.

So, I was happy I was not going to need to see him weekly for class help anyways. After our session he added me on Facebook, okay, not that weird, so I let it slide.

One of the other non degree classes I had was a math class. My teammate and I had math classes about the same time so while she finished class I would wait in the hallway and do my math homework for the next week.

We had an extremely good system going. Only downside, the rolling backpack happened to be in that hallway always around the same time I would be waiting for my teammate.

He would always hesitantly come up tot all to me, as if he had never talked to a girl before. He started of asking about basic things, my sport, my classes, simple things.

Soon though, those simple conversations turned into asking about family and relationships, particularly boyfriend status.

Although I said I had a boyfriend, which was a lie I just wanted him to go away, he still asked me on dates.

Now, when I say dates I mean he did not stop at asking once, he asked week after week….(to be continued)

With a tattoo of initials on his inner arm, I was instantly attracted.

Muscular with just enough frat boy flare to keep me interested. He was the perfect mix between an athlete and preppy.

I had seen him around, but I never have had the confidence to go for guys I think I can’t get. This guy was different, I mentioned to his big, to whom is my number three frat boy you will read about shortly, that I thought his Little was attractive and asked if he was single.

Soon I received a text asking to hang out after the party, of course I said yes. We began hanging out regularly. He would come to my room and watch movies and I would go with him to the mall.

It was like any other dating scenario. He would hold my hand, cuddle with me and kiss me goodnight. I was completely smitten.

Our talking stage went on for over a month before he finally owned up over a text message to dating someone else.

The way he wrote his text will forever burn in my mind because I could not believe I was played like that. He simply told me he met someone else and really hoped I would not be mad at him.

No, of course I won’t be mad at you, just don’t speak to me again. You only strung me along, got me hooked and then cut me off, no big deal.

Shame I did not actually say that, instead I was how I always was and said okay, I understand. For the rest of my time at that university I stayed clear of that frat, minus the occasional run in at the bars and parties.

Fast forward the story a year or so. By this time I had already transferred and it was around Christmas break.

I was getting ready within a few weeks to go visit my girls back at that university when I get a text one night, it was from the Little.

Supposedly he and the girl he picked over me had broken up. The text said, “I should have picked you, I am so sorry.” At first I was in shock, no way had this guy realized two years too late that he made a mistake.

I could not help but wonder why he was telling me this now, so I asked but in a more hostile way that I probably should have. We texted back and forth for hours that night, him constantly apologizing while I tried to figure out if this was really happening, and if so how serious was he….(to be continued)

You know those boys your parents tell you to stay away from because they are “bad news”? That would be Batman in my dating life.

The first time I met this unique character was all thanks to my brother, who is two years younger than I am. My brother was going through the “let’s make a band” stage I think every person has at least once in their life, however for Batman, he never and still has not grown out of that stage.

My brother and some of his friends from high school decided to start a screamo band, you know, the type of band where they scream at you rather than sing nicely.

Well, since my mother always supported our dreams, no matter how insane, she allowed my brother’s band to practice in our garage. One afternoon the boys were being extraordinarily loud, so I went out to ask them to quite down. That is when I saw it, the infamous Batman belt buckle.

I had heard descriptions of this guy before; had a girlfriend, drama kid, known for jumping from band to band. At first I was not remotely interested. He was only a few inches taller than me, had dark brown hair that was about shoulder length and his pants hung so low I was not sure why he even tried to wear a belt.

Either way, he was in my brother’s band, I had to be friendly, especially because I was the sort of the band’s chauffeur, since none of the boys had were able to drive at the time.

I think a majority of the appeal was the rebel factor this guy had. My parents would never approve and I was known as the “goody two shoes, church girl” everywhere I went.

Batman was my attempt to be rebellious and break the image I had. So, I took it upon myself to ignore all my inner feelings about this guy and tell him I had a thing for him. Which I did, but it was not a feeling I should have acted on when I look back on it.

So, he dumped his girlfriend of a couple years and shortly after we began dating. Now I can understand why my mom acted the way she did when she found out, but at the time she just gave me a reason to test out my rebellious abilities…(to be continued)

You know those boys you see and instantly think to yourself, “Oh my gosh. He is gorgeous…he would never be interested in a girl like me.” Well, that was my first thought at this fine specimen I have labeled as The Playboy.

My first encounter with this boy was when I was 16 years old. We were both divers for rivalry high schools and our coaches got along well enough that we met each other at a meet.

He towered over me with his tan skin and long blonde hair. His eyes were a greenish blue, close to the colour of the ocean on a clear day. He wore a speedo that was slightly too small, which was apparent because all the girls saw his butt crack on a regular basis. When he wasn’t wearing the infamous speedo, he wore this pair of board shorts that were bright pink with Hawaiian flower, which he had owned for quite some time because it had developed holes from all the time he spent at the beach and skim boarding.

He also had a way with women, we all had heard the stories and rumours whisper their way through practice, from pool to pool. Despite the complete opposite social life, he and I instantly got along. However, after season our junior year in high school, we did not see each other. That was, until our senior year.

It was the annual City Meet, this is where all the high school swimmers and divers from the city came together to compete in the first big meet of the season. I was practicing when all of the sudden the blonde haired boy from the year before got in line directly behind me and started up a conversation.

From that moment we were inseparable and by the end of the meet we had exchanged numbers.

Let me note that before this, I had never even dated a boy, let alone exchange numbers with one who was so cute and funny.

Our coaches were absolutely game for the idea of their two oldest divers becoming an item. Even though we were complete opposites.

He was experienced, liked to party and did not have the slightest idea what to do with his life. I, on the other hand, was focused and had somewhat of a game plan heading into my senior year. I did not care about how different we were.

He gave me attention. Other girls envied me. I could not believe it. Other girls were actually jealous of ME? The little 5 foot nothing girl with bleach blonde hair and with the body of a child (I did not bloom till I was 19), ME! I still to this day can’t believe other girls were jealous of me…thanks to him.

Once the exchanging of the numbers happened, it all played out like any romance movie would between two, young teenagers who were crushing on each other. We texted throughout the day, he picked me up and we went on dates, we even met the others friends.

The real romantic stuff went down a month or so after Cities. Believe or not, this player had some real, genuine romance hidden in his bones.

Luckily for me, I got to see it….(to be continued)