On a snowy Wednesday afternoon in January, I’m curled up in the corner of a coffee shop with an open book and shivering hands. As I sip on a steaming latte to recover from Ann Arbor’s arctic wind chill, my trembling fingers turn the page under the furled sleeves of my winter sweater. The main characters of my latest rom-com novel meet for the first time, and Emily Henry choreographs an awkward, yet charming, conversation between two freshmen at the University of Chicago. Though the pair couldn’t be more different, they embark on a classic friends-to-lovers plot as they carpool home together at the end of the semester. Of course, the two just happen to be from the same town in middle-of-nowhere Ohio — consistent with a wholesome love trope inspired by innocent midwestern roots.
Like many modern-day romances, Henry’s “People We Meet on Vacation” exists within the confines of realistic fiction: A world just similar enough to our own so readers believe that they, too, will find their soulmate whilst loitering in a cafe on a Wednesday afternoon — much like I am now. Whether the characters meet by a fated book dropped in the hallway or a mistakenly swapped order at the local coffee shop, the formula for most rom-coms require a “meet-cute” scenario to launch the romance.
As defined by Merriam-Webster, the term “meet-cute” refers to any “cute, charming, or amusing first encounter between romantic partners.” According to rom-com lore, the concept was born from the 1938 film “Bluebeard’s Eighth Wife,” describing the scene in which the main characters met as they shopped for pajamas and shared witty, spark-fueled banter. The meet-cute garnered more popularity as its role solidified in cheesy movies and romance novels of the ’90s and early 2000s. Now, as love-story classics like “The Notebook” and “When Harry Met Sally” are succeeded by the Colleen Hoovers and Emily Henrys of the literary world, today’s young adults are still conditioned to expect a meet-cute of their own. Like many of my peers, I too hope the realistic part of the rom-com fiction genre exists in more than just on-screen, on-page chemistry.
Yet, as Gen Z is subjected to the social landscapes of online dating, frat parties and nights out at bars, are the meet-cutes that inspire our favorite romances even a possibility on a college campus?
As readily detailed in The Michigan Daily’s Opinion column “Modern romance is dead, and Tinder killed it,” research suggests that apps like Tinder and Hinge impede on our ability to make genuine romantic connections. Not only are we faced with surface-level information about the individuals we encounter online, but also the option-abundant nature of the apps can turn users’ dating experiences into sites of instant gratification; thus, fueling the addictive minds these companies prey upon. Moreover, I personally can’t bring myself to download Bumble or Tinder when there’s a distinct possibility I meet someone I actually like on there. What if we start dating and then I have to tell people that we met because, one Sunday night at 2:00 a.m., he decided to swipe right on a photo I took two years ago? As a guilty-as-charged rom-com lover, I’d prefer to lie and make up my own meet-cute story rather than expose that particular truth. However, despite my personal preferences on the subject, many have, and continue to meet, their significant others online. In fact, your profile’s existence on such apps can act as a flag of singledom to other users. On a college campus, where the 5-mile radius setting on Tinder includes people you already know from class and student orgs, a profile can simply let interested acquaintances know you’re available.
Outside the digital world, many university students rely on the campus party scene to meet one another. But, like any seasoned upperclassman or graduate would say, you’re not going to meet your future spouse in the basement of a frat house. While our wise elders may be on to something there, how are we supposed to meet anyone when our social settings are dominated by frat-like events, where a booming bass and an open bar often impede our more rational selves?
As anticipated, students who were taught to expect organic encounters with romantic partners are thoroughly disenchanted with the realities of dating on a college campus. Business sophomore, Meha Nagireddy, describes the challenges of developing authentic connections at the University of Michigan.
“Unfortunately, I feel like people are primarily establishing relationships online,” Nagireddy said. “It sucks because I hate Snapchat. I think it’s the worst thing. I’ve just stopped giving people my Snap at this point.”
Rather than experience the in-person, hopefully witty banter of first-time encounters, college students have grown accustomed to conversations mitigated by smart-device features.
“A lot of the time people communicate over text messages. FaceTime is like the big jump indicating that they are getting a little more serious,” Nagireddy said. “It’s become like a game … timing your texts so you’re not responding too fast and coming across desperate.”
According to Nagireddy, it’s rare for a college student to even want a committed relationship. “Now, I think people are afraid of going to that in-person situation. Saying like Hey, let’s meet up’ is seen as a little more formal, like a date sort of setting,” Nagireddy said. “I don’t know why or what caused this, but it feels like no one is ready for a real relationship.”
In an environment dominated by hookup culture and impersonal communications, Nagireddy’s observations don’t seem too far off the mark. Many college-age students search for non-exclusive partnerships that allow for physical intimacy, or casual hookups — all the while avoiding, or at least trying to avoid, emotional connections with said partners.
“Everyone just wants to have little flings or sneaky links,” Nagireddy said. “It’s really hard for someone who wants to be in a real relationship to figure out who is actually serious and find people who care enough to stay long-term.”
Yet, despite the less-than-wholesome intentions of some students on campus, one couple was able to defy the odds. Nicole Guibord and Rishabh Kumar, two LSA juniors, have been together since their first few weeks on campus freshman year.
When I sat down with the pair on a Friday afternoon in The Common Cup, I found myself surprisingly enamored with their meet-cute story. I suppose you can say that the genuine start of their connection garnered some much-needed hope for future relationships in college.
“This was the fall of 2020, so (COVID-19) definitely shaped how we first met,” prefaced Kumar. “With hardly any in-person activities, my friends and I were just walking around one Friday or Saturday on the second weekend of school, trying to meet people,” continued Kumar. “We happened to cross paths with two of Nicole’s friends as they left the dining hall. We hit it off and got their Snapchats so we could all meet up at some point.”
Guibord and Kumar joked about how, as freshmen, of course, a couple Snapchat contacts turned into a group chat with more than 20 students. Fortunately, Guibord was included in the mass text thread, so she was invited to the hangout where she and Kumar would meet for the first time.
“It was on the Palmer basketball court,” Guibord said. “Me and six of my friends walked down the steep hill in front of the CCRB to see probably 25 guys playing an intense game of basketball.”
Kumar explained that being outside was the only way to meet people back then. So, when the group decided to meet up at Palmer, there were already loads of other people hanging out in that area. Guibord remembers feeling a little nervous, thinking what did my friends get me into?
“They were all very shy for some reason,” said Kumar.
“I kinda had to ask everyone what their names were, interview style.” Guibord chimed in, “he just started going around the half circle of people, asking where are you from, how bout’ you, how bout’ you…”
“No one was saying anything!” added Kumar. “Anyways, I kept asking them questions …and that’s how I first met Nicole,” continued Kumar. “When the group of us moved down to the Arb, that’s when we really got to speak one-on-one. She’s from California and I’m from Texas, so naturally, I was making fun of her for being a Warriors fan.” Guibord added, “yeah there is kinda an unspoken rivalry going on there.”
Not-so-unspoken rivalries aside, the group continued to hang out in the following weeks with more basketball games on Palmer and walks around the Arb. Guibord and Kumar got to know each other better on their own, and though their friendship began through COVID-19-induced desperation, their relationship developed into a more meaningful connection than either of them anticipated. In fact, though they had only known each other for two and a half months, Guibord and Kumar remained a couple through nine months of geographical separation when U-M students were sent home due to the campus shut down of fall 2020.
Admittedly, because it was clear they wouldn’t be staying at school, Guibord first said no when Kumar asked her to be his girlfriend. But, when Guibord realized how much she missed Kumar upon returning to California, she changed her mind and decided to date long-distance. Despite the challenges of a COVID-19-riddled freshman year, Guibord and Kumar have been dating for about two and a half years, coming up on the three year mark in 2023.
Though the two were dealing with a pandemic, Guibord and Kumar’s organic meet-cute sounds eerily similar to the UChicago freshman scenario from “People We Meet on Vacation” — but thankfully less awkward than Emily Henry’s dialogue.
As one of the few success stories I’ve observed on campus, I asked the couple their opinions on the best ways to meet people at school and date as college students.
“Whoever you get a chance to meet, that’s an opportunity to develop something more,” Kumar said. “But most of it is through other friends. Like a friend who knows someone, who knows someone, who is interested in another friend — that’s a form of netting people in a way that’s vetted through mutual connections. Definitely a super natural way people are meeting.”
“More of my friends definitely are meeting people at Skeeps, Rick’s or online,” added Guibord. “But I do know people who take classes with each other, and maybe end up in a project group together, then start texting from there. And the same goes for orgs and student clubs of course,” continued Guibord.
Though extracurricular organizations may seem like a natural way to meet people with common interests, I’ve been hard-pressed to find a couple who met through their student organization. That is, until I spoke with Aditi Mukhi, an IASA dance choreographer for the Aasha: Our Desire to Dream show and a sophomore in LSA.
Mukhi and her boyfriend began dating in the fall semester of 2022. When they first met, Mukhi was a choreographer and her boyfriend was one of the dancers in the show. “I’m pre-med, so I always thought I would meet someone in med school,” said Mukhi. “I didn’t think I’d really date anybody here … I wasn’t actively looking for a relationship.”
Mukhi goes on to describe how the prospect of a romantic connection at the University took her completely by surprise. She remembers thinking, why is this guy snapping me so much? “Honestly, I was so confused,” said Mukhi.
“Until he invited me to his party and asked me out for the first time, I wasn’t really sure where the whole thing was going.”
It’s important to note that Mukhi would have never attended her current boyfriend’s party if one of her close friends hadn’t encouraged her to go in the first place. Now, when I say encouraged, I mean attending the party herself as Mukhi’s plus one — and making sure she actually talked to her crush throughout the night. Though the friends’ roles in meet-cute stories are somewhat obsolete compared to the romantic beginnings of such wonderful couples, all my tag-along plus ones out there deserve an honorable mention for their little shoves in the right direction. At this point, I’m halfway convinced every person would be single if it weren’t for the best friends that help nudge the less outgoing along the way.
Unlike many students on campus, Mukhi felt as though her boyfriend utilized Snapchat to coordinate in-person interactions rather than establish a relationship over the app. “Practice was kinda stressful sometimes,” explained Mukhi.
“I would spend that time coordinating with my co-choreographers or working with other dancers. I couldn’t really talk to him during those meetings, so we would usually set up study dates for after practice.”
Mukhi doesn’t personally like conversing over apps like Snapchat, so she’s grateful that her relationship stemmed from mostly in-person exchanges. Given the authentic and organic nature of their beginning, Mukhi definitely considers her relationship to be an on-campus meet-cute story.
***
I’m not the first to admit that romantic connections in college feel like works of fiction these days. As our generation grows accustomed to strange dating nuances of iMessage, Snapchat and Facetime, how can we be sure to look up long enough to notice the cute person hovering by the cafe counter — or even care if someone in the hallway helps to collect your fallen books? Though Nagireddy definitely shared some universal truths about dating at the University, I couldn’t help but feel hopeful as I listened to Guibord, Kumar and Mukhi share their experiences with relationship-born meet-cutes on campus. Though rom-com style encounters may not be the norm, stumbling upon a romantic partner as you begrudgingly trudge through campus snow is still a possibility: The strongest commonality between these stories is not in their wholesome first meetings but rather the intentions behind those initial exchanges.
Not a single person in either of these couples met their partner while actively looking for a romantic relationship. Each person entered these situations with the noblest of intentions: meeting other freshmen during COVID-19, choreographing a student dance number. Unlike the pretenses of a rom-com plot or a Tinder profile, real-life meet-cutes may happen without prior assumptions about where the relationship will lead. With the right mindset, budding on-campus relationships can begin as naturally as turning the next page of your favorite book.
Statement Deputy Editor Reese Martin can be reached at rkmartin@umich.edu.