Theirs was a modern day love story. Boy gets drunk. Boy goes home. Boy opens up dating app. Boy scrolls through the matches in his area. Boy is dissatisfied with his choices. Boy conducts a worldwide search. Boy finds girl. Boy messages girl, not expecting girl to respond. Girl answers late the following day and thus a deeply textual relationship was born.

They called and texted and Skyped night and day, literally. She, Ella, was an American studying abroad in Athens—PhD in classical art history—and he, Louis, a part-time surfer dude in San Diego.

They thought they were a pair made in romantic Heaven, aka OkCupid. They liked to think their souls were meant to be together, that they were somehow reincarnated versions of Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald, destined to meet again and live out their days in love this second time around. All they had in common with the jazz duo were first names, though. That’s what we’ve been telling Ella for the past nine months.

Ever since she told us about this guy during one of our tri-weekly ‘study sessions,’ aka happy hours, I’ve been leery of him. I mean, it seems like a total Catfish situation, which apparently is pretty commonplace now because there’s a very popular TV show on MTV that’s been running for literally YEARS about this very thing.

Like what’s going to happen when they meet? What if he’s some shriveled old man who walks around in dirty whitey tighties? What if he’s some lonely teenage girl skilled in the art of internet manipulation? Honestly, his pictures look very retouched to me. He could literally be ANYONE and that’s the world we live in now. And let’s be real: that’s the BEST CASE SCENARIO.

He could very easily been a rapist or a murderer or some foreign con man who sells young women into sex labor or something. Like HAVE YOU SEEN DATELINE OR literally any Lifetime Original? This shit is real.

I’m worried for the state of mind society is inflicting upon us young women. I’m no stranger to this situation. Just last year, I engaged in a year-long textual relationship with some dude and NEWSFLASH! when we finally met, it turned out he was only interested in a one-time hooking up situation. I mean, I was lucky. I came out of it with a bruised ego and I gained about ten pounds, but at least I’m still living unscarred.

About a month into their relationship, she started talking about dropping out of the program and moving to San Diego to be with him. I was like isn’t this a little soon to be thinking like that? And she was all no, not at all, there’s a lot of loose ends to tie up before we can be together. And I was like shouldn’t you meet first? And she was like we talk all the time and I was like IN PERSON!

She kept telling me that neither of them had the money for a visit and that they’d much rather save their cash for a move. That reasoning is valid, but only up to a point. And that point is whether or not you actually know the person you’re moving across the world for.

I finally got her to agree meeting halfway on the grounds that I accompany her. During fall break, we flew to my parents’ house in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. I know, I know, it was a longer flight for us than it was for him, but I’d never pass up the chance to take in New England’s illustrious foliage while pigging out on my mom’s couch. I’m sentimental like that.

On the day that Louis was set to arrive, he was nowhere to be seen. We stood by the baggage claim with an idiotic sign reading WELCOME TO LOVE for three hours like a couple of putzes.

He called a day later and said he was ‘held up’ by some ‘emergency’ but he was pretty vague about it. I couldn’t stand seeing the hurt in Ella’s eyes, but she believed so strongly in him that she agreed to stay a little longer for him to come.

Louis finally made his appearance three days later. Ella was a flurry of nerves and I was honestly surprised to see the tanned and taut man on my parents’ doorstep. I guess the part time surfer dude thing was real. At least he looked the part.

He swept her off her feet. He charmed the pants off my parents. My little brother thought he was cool. But I couldn’t shake the feeling deep in my skin that there was something off about him.

He seemed too perfect. It’s been three days and Ella thinks it’s time for them to have some alone time. She told me pretty bluntly to stay the fuck home.

Sure, I said.

I waited five minutes after they left and then I got on my bike. I followed them to the heavily wooded path I used to sneak my high school boyfriends to. I had to ditch my bike so I could trail them unnoticed.

I found them in a clearing. She was sitting on a red checked picnic blanket next to a beautiful wicker basket and a bottle of wine. It looked very romantic and lovely, but her face was ashen.

Then I saw it.

He was standing in front of her wearing a shirt but no pants. His arms were spread wide like he was on a cross, he had a sugar skull mask on his face, and he was whipping his penis back and forth. Just smacking it from thigh to thigh. And clucking like a chicken.

Why?

I can’t say I didn’t warn her.