you rush to campus center at 11 AM. hot on heels of group project. Kurt is waiting. He is a tour guide; he is programmed to be on time.
Of course, he is the one you just dashed by. he is seated, playing the piano. beautifully.
You both pick your poison – Lemonade. You quietly note that Kurt already has two strange beverages and no intention of buying another. You don’t bring this up. Instead, you both rush upstairs.
At first, you reveal nothing about yourself. Kurt says it all – he is allergic to most of the Lemonade cuisine. You feel bad. You just wanted some juice. You are sad now, and nervous. All items from your camera bag tumultuously crash onto the floor. Kurt picks them up. one by one. this is not what you intended.
temporary embarrassment relief. another man caught the rush. he drops his lemonade on your sandals, right behind you. kurt laughs.
you are now seated – you talk. For a senior who “doesn’t know what he’s doing”. kurt seems very sure of himself. his left eye forever squints; he listens patiently as you swap rapid stories of relationships, tacos, and his girlfriend (your orientation advisor). Instagrams are exchanged. Snaps are chatted. Quickly.
you check your phone – it is 11:29 PM. You are sad – you are only just getting to know
Cole Kurt h Clements. you won’t get that wrong again. your blog is short; disjointed. you have so much to learn from this graduating senior, blogger, tour guide, famed personality, new friend.
You both pick up your things. you exchange the knowing nod of people who are perpetually, habitually busy but have temporarily found some resemblance of solace. You part ways with Kurt Clements.