"It's not that simple," Kurt replied through a frustrated groan. "You're still awkward as hell around guys, but with me, it's a whole different level of humiliating."

Rachel rolled her eyes and pointed out a cute outfit worn by a mannequin, quickly fitting her arms around the boy's elbow to hold him close. "Look, Kurt, you'll never know anything about him unless you talk to him."

"Rachel, I'm, like, the definition of awkward. I mean, look at me."

"You're hot," Rachel immediately countered. "If you were on my team, I'd be all over you."

Kurt glared over at the girl. "I've never talked to a boy like him before-"

"What, a photographer?"

"That gorgeous," Kurt trailed off with a dreamy sigh. "You've seen him."

"And he's a great guy." They slowed to a stop at the crosswalk between Michigan and Balbo, cars zooming by them constantly. "It's been three days, Kurt. You can't keep hiding in the corner and daydreaming."

The light changed, the familiar white man showing up on the other side of the street. Rachel began walking, her arm still locked with Kurt's, but was immediately pulled back by Kurt rooted to the spot.

"Kurt?"

"He's there." Kurt's eyes were trained on the window of the Starbucks across the street, seeing Blaine messing with his camera at a table. "Why is he there?"

"It's the only coffee shop close to Columbia," Rachel explained slowly, as if the answer was obvious. It was to everyone but Kurt. "Where else would he go?"

Kurt stayed frozen in place despite Rachel pulling on him again. "I can't go in there."

"What?" Rachel stopped pulling and just stared up at the slightly taller boy. "Why?"

"Because how in the hell am I supposed to even be around him when all I can think about is kissing him senseless?"

"Aw, Kurt!"
"Rachel, not the time," Kurt grit through his teeth. He shook his head. "I'm just going to Columbia. I don't need coffee today."

"Fine, fine. You can't hide from this forever, darling!"

Kurt rolled his eyes as he jogged across the street, his bag smacking against his thigh while he moved. He kept his gaze pointed at the ground, not stopping until he was inside Columbia.

"Fuck," he whispered, slowing to a stop while he looked around the room. "What am I doing?" He shook his head again, running a hand through his hair and over his face before he began walking, not allowing himself to stop and think about this.