Kurt walked up to the front of William McKinley High School, feeling the mass of students around him rush inside as he stared up at the school. He stopped in the middle of the crowd, the wind whipping at his coat.

Today was the day.

It wasn't exactly dread that he was feeling...his emotions were an infinite amount of strings tied tightly around his heart, lodging it into his throat. He could hear it beating in his ears.

Kurt had not visited the library since Friday. He couldn't bring himself to; he saw no point in going—he knew that the Book wouldn't be there. That had become his sole motivation for going to the library. However, as he stood in that same spot, it hit him that that day was their one-month anniversary of communication.

So much had happened in just one month. The incident at the mall, joining glee club, his first kiss, his first (and hopefully last) time getting beaten up, his second kiss...and he could relate all of those events back to BDA. Kurt thought about what his father said on Friday night. He was completely right-BDA had changed his life in a positive way. Despite all of those awful events, those setbacks, he got through them. He had new friends, who he was starting to become comfortable with, he had supporters, and he knew that he had grown as a person. These experiences could only help him cultivate into a better, stronger man.

"Kurt, what are you doing?" Kurt turned to see Brittany walk up to him, giving him an inquisitive look.

"Just thinking..."

"I don't like thinking too much, it hurts my head," she stated. "It hurt when I converted the temperature from Celsius to Fahrenheit this morning. I accidentally set my phone to Celsius and I can't figure out how to get it back. It's really cold out, 2 degrees Celsius and 36 degrees Fahrenheit, so I'm going to go inside. I hope Santana can figure it out. Bye." She walked inside, leaving Kurt to his thoughts.

Brittany was an enigma that Kurt was sure he'd never be able to figure out. However, he did agree with her that it was frigid outside, so he followed her into the building.

Students were lined up against the lockers of the hallway, with cliques of girls chatting, guys laughing and playing around, and the occasional couple getting in their morning make-out session. Kurt hurried along to his locker, which was all the way down at the junction between the A wing and the B wing. He saw a large cluster of girls standing in the general location of his locker-must be Whatever-Her-Name-Is's birthday, he thought bitterly as he trudged on. The same group had been decorating her locker after school the previous day, completely disregarding the fact that Kurt was there trying to gather his things. Sometimes he was really glad that he wasn't into girls.

After saying "excuse me" multiple times, with anger building up inside after each one, the girls finally inched away, allowing Kurt access to his locker. He took a few calming breaths as he opened it, taking off his coat and hanging it up inside. Luckily, the group decided to leave as Kurt began exchanging his books. It was good that they left, since Kurt was on the brink of yelling at them to shut up about how cute Whatever-Her-Name-Is is with her boyfriend.

"Oh, no," Kurt groaned as he noticed that his French binder was lying on the bottom of his locker. He'd forgotten to take it home to do the paragraph Madame Luisant assigned that night. "Je suis très bête, pourquoi est-ce que j'ai oublié," he muttered to himself.I guess I'll do it during the assembly, since I know exactly what BDA is going to say, he thought with his teeth clenched, grabbing the binder.

"Excuse me?" A low voice he didn't recognize said from behind him. Kurt started, slowly turning around. He felt the air in his lungs dissolve as he beheld the boy in front of him.Wow.

He stood there with his hands wrapped around the messenger bag lying across his chest, which sunk into the small indentation between his pecs. He was looking up at Kurt, since he was a few inches shorter than him. The boy was wearing a white button-down shirt tucked into a pair of navy pants; the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing toned forearms. Kurt's gaze floated back up to the boy's neck, where a bright red bowtie sat in the collar. He spent the most time, however, examining the boy's face.

It was framed by raven-colored curls, tamed with a coat of gel that shined in the artificial light of the hallway. His lips were curved into a kind, genuine smile; they looked soft, possibly due to the visible hint of lip balm on them. His cheeks were smooth and clean-shaven. Kurt finally locked his eyes with the boy's, which sat under a pair of thick, triangular eyebrows.

Long, gossamer eyelashes bordered the most gorgeous eyes Kurt had ever seen. They were a stunning hazel, even closer to gold than green or brown. How was it possible for eyes to be even more golden than the element itself? They blazed with a fascinating fire. Kurt could feel himself start to fall into the black depths of his pupils, never to be found again. He hardly managed to tear his gaze away from the stranger's—he felt blood rush up into his face, coloring his neck and cheeks with a bright rosy blush that could compete with the boy's bow tie.

"Y-yes?" Kurt stammered.Focus, Kurt, calm down, his mind chided. He unconsciously clutched his binder close to his chest. He glanced back up at the boy's eyes. They were still absolutely radiant, almost too much for Kurt to handle.

"I'm new here. If it isn't too much trouble, would you show me where the main office is?" The stranger asked. Kurt felt his eyes widen a little. "My name's Blaine," he added, his smile growing even larger. Kurt felt himself melt a little.

"Kurt," he suddenly piped up, remembering his manners: he extended a trembling, sweaty hand. Blaine took it, shaking it slowly and firmly. His hand was soft and warm and fit perfectly in Kurt's. Kurt felt his whole arm go limp. He let go as quickly as he grabbed his hand, much to Kurt's disappointment.

"It's just down the hallway, I'll show you," Kurt said, shutting his locker. He hoisted his backpack onto his back, feeling Blaine's eyes on him as he began to lead him along. Kurt wished that Blaine would stop looking at him; it only caused his cheeks to flare even more furiously. Blaine fell in step next to him; Kurt could feel the boy's hands accidentally (ithadto be accidental) brush against his thighs, sending electric sparks from where the contact took place. Kurt quickened his pace; Blaine only followed like a dog at his owner's side.

"Here it is." Kurt said as they reached the office. "And there's a bathroom right next to it, just in case you need to, you know..." He babbled on, wincing slightly as he listened to his own words.Word vomit at its finest.

"Good to know. Thank you so much, Kurt. Please, though, don't start your sentences with 'and'," Blaine winked and opened the door to the office, disappearing behind it.

Kurt stumbled towards the nearest wall, trying to steady himself. Every muscle within his body had liquefied, his brain trying to wrap around what had just happened. He could feel his heart thumping rapidly against his ribcage, faster than it had ever thumped in his entire life. He heard Blaine's voice again, saying "I'm new here", and then saw BDA's handwriting flash before him:On an unrelated note, never start a sentence with "and"...

Blaine.

BDA.

The breath-taking boy he'd just met...he just talked to-it was him. It had to be him.It was him!

Kurt sank against the wall, his head hurtling towards the stratosphere, towards the moon, all the way towards Andromeda, the galaxy next to the Milky Way. Kurt forgot about everything that had taken place that weekend regarding the Book, all of his thoughts focused on the physical manifestation of his pen-pal. There was no way someone could be that damnperfect. He couldn't possibly be that attractive, that smart, that kind...and there was no way he could make Kurt's knees wobble that easily.

Blaine.

The bell rang, interrupting his thoughts for the few seconds that it sounded off, urging him to his first class. His mind then continued to replay their meeting multiple times. Every time he closed his eyes, he kept seeing Blaine smiling in front of him, his eyes staring deep into his eyes, his soul. His voice floated through his ears again and again; he spoke just as eloquently as he wrote. He still felt the ghost of Blaine's fingertips at his side, which was still buzzing with his touch.

He strode into his Chemistry classroom just in time; the second bell beginning first period sounded off as he took his seat. As his teacher began to put the PowerPoint for a lesson on moles (no, not the animal), Kurt bowed his head into his moist palms. He rubbed his face vigorously, trying to wipe away all of the thoughts of BDA-no,Blaine-from his mind, all of the images that persistently popped up. They refused to stop, and Kurt knew that, in all honesty, he didn't want them to. He felt a large, ridiculous smile plastered on his face underneath his palms.

What is wrong with me!? Kurt wondered, detaching his hands from his face in defeat. He could still feel his lips curled into that dumb smile.

Then, Kurt realized. He felt the smile disappear.

He doesn't know that it's me. He doesn't know who I am.

Dear Journal (even though you aren't really one...why am I referring to an inanimate object as "you"...this salutation is too long; I'm going to stop),

It's been a long time since I've written to something like this. I feel like an eight year old girl. Actually, I feel nervous.

I'm going to present "The Book Project" for the first time to people I don't know. On Friday I spoke about it at Dalton, which went pretty well. All of them know me, though, and I'm well aware that my rock-star status entices them (I sound so self-involved, I hate this). This is completely different, since it's a public high school. I don't know how they're going to react to this. I can't believe that I have to do this at three other schools as well within the next two weeks. (Although I am lucky that I'm getting out of a lot of school and work for this—why my teachers aren't forcing me to make up all of this work I'm missing, I don't know. I'm not complaining, though...)

I'm worried that I'm going to mess up. I'm worried that they're not going to pay attention to me. I'm worried that my message won't get across.

I wish I could talk to KH. I wonder if he hates me now, considering what I did. He doesn't know that I had to, and not exactly for the reason he may think.

He's probably fine right now. I wonder if he goes to this school...I don't want to seek him out. He doesn't want to seek me out, so I'm not going to try.

However, there was this one boy that I met when I first got here, and...wow.All I'm going to say regarding this issue is this: I hope I don't find him in the crowd today, because then I might lose my train of thought.

I thought that writing down my feelings would help the butterflies calm down, but they're still a flutter in my stomach. Oh well. I'll try my hardest, and therefore no one should criticize me. Ha.

Until next time...Journal.