Kurt bowed his head down and kept his gaze to the floor as he walked into the boys' locker room. As always, the stench of sweat and cheap, disgusting, deodorant made him want to throw up, and as always he almost did. Because on top of the awful smell, everything fell dead silent as he past, one of the clearest ways to tell him that he wasn't at all welcome in the room.

Snorts and disgusted looks hunted him as he walked his weekly walk of shame to his locker, which of course had to be placed just about as far away from the door as possible.

Kurt hated gym class more than anything. It was just... There was something about being surrounded by all those big, mostly very muscular, guys without anything or anyone around to stop the way they treated him. There was something about how he could feel the air thickening with hatred as he entered that just cracked his armor into a million pieces.

"Hey, who let you in?" said a well familiar voice. Kurt ducked his head even more, trying to make himself even smaller.

"Hey, Lady!" called the same voice. "I'm talking to you! This is the men's locker room, you can't be in here." A wave of laughter and numbers of loud high fives sounded through the air. Kurt wanted few things more than to be able to through the floor in that moment.

He tried his best to ignore the shouts and the laughter, but it got harder and harder as they got louder and louder.

'If I just ignore them, nothing will happen.' He kept repeating to himself over and over again. He knew it was a lie, but it didn't matter to him. If he could just keep ignoring everything for just a little while longer, it was fine.

He wished he could close his eyes. That way daydreaming usually got a little easier. If he could just close his eyes and keep walking at the same time it would be so much easier for him to imagine himself somewhere else. But since he couldn't, he just did his best to make the greasy floor into a big, wooden stage, the flickering lights into spotlights, the threatening jocks around him into kind women and men, sitting down and listening. Listening to him. Listening to his voice as he sang the final verse of the closing number to the most outsold Broadway show in history. He did his best to imagine the snorts and the names thrown at him into whistles and applauds, the disgusted looks into looks of appreciation.

The fantasy shattered when he was tripped by a foot appearing just in front of him, sending him headfirst into the a row of lockers. And this hadn't been too bad, if it weren't for the pair of hands pushing him by his shoulders, giving his stumble more force. His head hit the cold metal before he had had time to get his hands up to dampen it.

"Watch where you're going, faggot!" snapped the guy who had probably been the one who'd placed his foot in front of Kurt to trip him.

"S –sorry..." Kurt mumbled, fumbling with the shoulder strap of his bag.

Trying to walk even more carefully, Kurt sighed in relief ones he'd finally reaches his locker. He got hold of his bag and pushed it into the small metal space, then started moving the things in it around, trying to make himself look as busy as possible. This wasn't anything new for the boy. He did this every week before gym class, deliberately making himself look too busy to change before everyone else had left the room. And it wasn't like he had a choice or anything, he'd tried numerous of different ways to change into his supposed training clothes –locking himself inside the bathroom, changing beforehand, or just simply 'forgetting' to bring a change of clothes to school –but this worked best. This way the Neanderthals got opportunity enough to bully him to make them feel at least a little bit better about themselves, but not enough to make Kurt unable to attend class.

About fifteen long minutes later, the locker room was finally completely empty aside from Kurt himself, gym class had started; it was safe to get changed.

And even though he knew he was alone, he still felt as if he was being watched. He looked around the room like a pray looking for its predator, searching up by the ceiling for cameras, sharpening his ears to hear if there was another set of breath anywhere close by.

He found nothing, of course, just as he never did. So after another three minutes of standing completely frozen, Kurt moved to take off his scarf, followed by his jacket and shirt, folded them neatly and put them on the bench behind him. He turned back to his locker and got out the gray t-shirt he was supposed to be wearing.

Kurt wrinkled his nose. The shirt was absolutely hideous. He really couldn't get it into his head why those kinds of shirts were made in the first place. Like, was there really anyone on planet earth who'd want to wear them voluntarily? He didn't think so.

"Okay." he muttered, then reached to take off his tank top.

He would never stop hating this. He hated not wearing clothes. Even if it was just being shirtless. He hated, hated, hated, hated it. He didn't like that he hated it. Didn't like it one bit. Because it proved to him that he did get affected by the media, even though he time and time again told himself that he didn't. He told himself that it didn't matter what the world thought of him, as long as he himself approved of what he was and how he looked. But still he felt uncomfortable in his own skin, even though it was nothing wrong with it. He was perfectly healthy, but instead of being grateful for that, he focused on the fact that he looked like a human being, and not a photo-shopped super model.

"Well I don't know about you, but I like your kind of body much better."

He swung around in panic, hugging himself to cover up as much of his naked torso as possible.

"What are you doing here?" he shrieked, his voice even more high pitched than usual. And had he said what he thought out loud again?

"Well, it's the men's locker room, ain't it?"

Kurt looked at the teenage boy standing with his right side rested against one of the, what seemed to be millions of, lockers. He looked like he was about Kurt's height, but somehow he came across as taller than he actually was. He was wearing a pair of beaten down sneakers, a pair of black, skin tight jeans and a deep red, ridiculously tight, tank top, showing his seemingly ridiculously perfect chest. He was holding a black leather jacket in his left hand, which he'd swung over his shoulder, making his arm look... unfair. That was the only thing that came to Kurt's mind when he looked at those arms; unfair. Nothing else. Not. One. Other. Thought. Or, well... –no. Nothing else.

"What're you staring at?" smirked the unfairly attractive male. Kurt prayed for all that was good that his mouth was still closed shut.

"N –nothing." he shook his head frantically, arms still tightly wrapped around him. Though when he took the time to take a good look at the other's face, he was afraid he did in fact stare, but just a little bit. Because was that guy even real? Like, those eyes and that jawline and those eyebrows and those eyes and that mouth and that hair and those eyes. Those. Eyes.

"You know you can't just stand there with your mouth open like that. My mind goes all crazy with inappropriate thoughts." His voice was soft, and it was very, very obvious that he enjoyed what he was doing.

It took Kurt a moment to process what the words meant, and ones he did, he snapped his mouth shut quicker than ever, making his teeth make a little clacking sound when they connected. He felt his face heating up as the teenager stood up straight and walked closer to him to take a seat on one of the benches, the one where Kurt had places his clothes moments earlier, actually.

"So, who're you then?" he asked, looking up at Kurt, and it was something about the eye contact that made him want to disappear. He wasn't used to people making eye contact with him. Especially not people he didn't know, and especially not people at his school. But most of all, especially not people with eyes like that.

"K –Kurt." he managed, blushing even darker.

"Hi Kurt, I'm Blaine." Blaine answered, never breaking eye contact. "And how come you're here while everyone else's out playing football stars or whatever they're doin'?"

Kurt hadn't been prepared for the conversation to go on, and he certainly hadn't prepared for that question, much less for the tone it had been spoken in not to be judging or mocking.

"I have to ask you the same question." Kurt said, trying to seem confident, and was forever grateful that he'd managed not to mess any words up.

Blaine smirked; apparently he was satisfied with the answer.

"Well you know, I didn't really feel like being anywhere close to those whatever they are. I mean have you seen them? Walking around the school like they own the damn place or something. Can't really stand that kind of people."

Kurt smiled tensely, though he was somewhat impressed with the answer.

"Now, your turn to answer the question. Why aren't you out there with the others?"

"W –well, I will be in a while, jus–just have to get changed first." Kurt hated how he always stuttered whenever he talked to someone who wasn't his dad.

"And why haven't you already? I saw you walking in before a couple of the guys who're already gone." Blaine's voice was completely calm. Kurt wondered how he did it.

"I –wait, did you follow me here? Who are you?" It hit him again that he'd never seen the other boy in school ever before, and Kurt was more than good at remembering faces.

Blaine chuckled. "I already told you, I'm Blaine. And I'm new here, obviously."

"Did you follow me?" Kurt repeated, feeling how he for every second that past became less shy and more frustrated.

"Yes." Blaine answered calmly, not breaking eye contact even then.

"You –did?" Now when he'd got it confirmed, and that calmly as well, it just seemed laughable.

"Yes." the other boy just repeated.

"Why?"

"Well..." Blaine bowed his upper body a little forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He looked back up at Kurt through his ridiculously long eyelashes. "Have you looked in the mirror lately?"

"Huh?" he squeaked.

"Have you looked in the mirror lately?" he repeated. "You're pretty attractive, you know."

"What?" What? No one had ever said that to him ever before. Not even anything close to a kind compliment. Who was this guy? Seriously, was he just some kind of weird, vivid, fantasy of his or what?

"No, I'm very real." Kurt groaned. He had to be more careful with saying what was going through his mind out loud.

"Could you please leave?" he asked after a while, managing to break the staring contest their eyes had begun.

"Why?"

"I'm gonna change." It was completely beyond him where he got his confidence from all of a sudden.

"You know, you don't have anything I don't." Blaine smiled slyly.

"No, but you've sorta got a lot that I don't have." He tried his best to remember to thank whatever was up there that his stutter seemed to have disappeared.

"Oh yeah? And what's that exactly?" the boy sitting on the bench seemed to really enjoy the situation.

"Y –you –" Aaand there it was back again. Super. "I –" he tried to look at the other's whole figure without being noticed, but by the look on Blaine's face, he'd failed.

"I'm sorry?" he stood up.

What was he doing?

Why was he stepping closer to him?

What was that feeling he got in the lower part of his stomach?

"I didn't quite catch that?" whispered Blaine, now standing only inches away from him and –

What was he doing that for?

"W –what?" Kurt's blush came back, darker than ever. He took a step back, shivering when the cold metal behind him connected to his bare back. Bare. Right. Shit. He was shirtless. He'd sort of forgotten about that. He flung his arms back up from where they were hanging limp by his sides, but before he'd had the change to cover his chest again, hands gripped hold of his wrist.

"Don't do that." Blaine said softly, staring into Kurt's eyes.

"Don't do w –what?"

"Don't cover yourself up. Didn't you hear me? You're very attractive."

"I –you –huh?" his whole body felt like it was on fire, he'd never been this close to someone else before. Not another boy at least, and certainly not in... that way. And if it hadn't made Kurt very much too embarrassed to think, and not to mention see, the obvious, he would've totally seen, and thought, what was going through the other male's mind in that second.

And even if he hadn't been too embarrassed by it, he still wouldn't have had any time to think. Because suddenly Blaine's eyes blinked very slowly, ones, twice, and then they didn't open again.

Well, wow. As if his eyes hadn't been enough, his eyelashes were the longest and thickest Kurt had ever seen, you saw it even more than before now when his eyes were closed. They almost seemed unreal, actually. But what was he doing closing his eyes? He hadn't gotten permission to do that? How was Kurt supposed to survive without the pair of eyes that had now been hidden away from his view? And he was almost about to ask the, which proved to be, after all, taller boy to open his eyes again. But, once again –what?

He'd been too busy to realize that not only had Blaine closed his eyes, he'd also leaned ever closer to him, and when Kurt realized this, their faces weren't even an inch apart anymore.

Why was he doing whatever he was doing?

Why was this entire situation happen? Or more like how?

Then, suddenly, something soft, damp, and incredibly warm touched Kurt's lips and –

Ohmygodwhatwashappeningwhywashedoingthat? Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.

Blaine, the incredibly good locking guy he had met about fifteen minutes ago, in his school, where everyone was as gay as Mitt Romney, was kissing him. And wow. It –how? Kurt had always been more than sure that he'd never even have the chance to meet anyone who wasn't as far into the closet that they would have to look out for the White Witch before he'd managed to get out of Lime. And yet now, somehow, he was being kissed by another boy? Another boy that was more than very attractive. Another boy that had really soft lips and very soft hair and –a boy that he'd met about fifteen minutes ago.

"W –wait..." He suddenly realized that things were moving way, way, way too fast.

"What?" And how could it be legal for that guy to look at him with those damn eyes?

"T –this is going too f –fast."

"Okay." answered Blaine simply, taking a little step backwards. Kurt's hand's fell back down to limply hanging on each side of his body form where they had somehow found their way up to curl themselves into Blaine's illegally curly hair. After having a moment to just feel very embarrassed by this, he immediately missed the warmth the closeness had brought.

"Okay? T –that's it?"

"That's it." Blaine ran his fingers through his hair and licked his lips. That guy shouldn't be allowed to exists, Kurt decided.

"I'm not gonna do anything you don't want to, ya know." And now he wasn't sure anymore. Should be legal or not? Because Kurt wouldn't particularly mind if more people with that opinion existed.

"You're not?" he had to ask. It sounded so weird for someone to tell him that.

"No." Blaine chuckled. "What kind of people do you hang around for that to come as a surprise?"

"I don't really –hang with p –people."

"You don't?" He seemed genially surprised by this.

"No."

"Why not?"

"W –well, as you said yourself, s –sort of, have you looked at me?"

"I have." Blaine smiled slyly, and maybe Kurt should have felt like this was something that was bad, but strangely he didn't. "And by that I assumed that you did have people to hang out with. I mean human beings as pretty as you usually have a lot of company."

Okay, that guy had to stop complimenting him soon, or his body would actually set itself on fire.

"I –I'm not really what people would call... acceptable around h–here. And I suggest you stay as far away from me as p –possible, or you'll end up being sl –slushied twice a day just like m –me." If he didn't know any better, he'd say that Blaine felt sorry for him. But he did know better, so he saw that he was actually just getting angry at how he couldn't stop his nervous stuttering, just like everyone else always did.

"I –I'm sorry..." mumbled Kurt, feeling ashamed.

"'Bout what?"

"I –you're getting –angry at me f –for talking like t-this." It was getting worse and worse, and he could feel how he was starting to get a little uneasy. It was only a matter of time now until he started either laughing or shouting at him. Maybe even hit him. He looked like he had trouble swallowing his anger.

Blaine stepped forward, but instead of kissing him again, (which, wow, he almost wish he had.) instead of hitting him or even pushing him, he bowed down and for a moment Kurt's mind went to very, very strange places, but then he saw what he was doing. Blaine had just bowed down so he could collect the hideous looking t-shirt which lay long forgotten on the floor by Kurt's feet. He then stood back up and handed it to Kurt.

"Put it on." he said softly. Kurt did, gladly so, as he was told, still trying to figure out who the hell the boy in front of him was. By looking at him, he looked... kinda like what you may call badass or something. He looked tough, hard; like he didn't care about anything. And then he'd been sort of very flirty, and then, now –he couldn't quite figure out how Blaine was acting, exactly.

He looked back up, of some reason really wanting to see those beautiful hazel eyes again. It was strange just how much he loved them already. And as he did, that weird, magnetic, eye contact was back. It was like a million words were told between them in the blink of a second, and even though he couldn't figure out just what those words were, it made Kurt feel all weird inside.

"Relax." Blaine said, his tone almost unbelievably soft. He'd lifted his arms, and out of reflex, Kurt had flinched, waiting for the hit.

"W –what are you gonna–"

Oh.

Blaine pulled Kurt closer than he had before, wrapping his arms around him, one hand ending up resting by the low of Kurt's back, the other across his shoulders. He couldn't remember when he'd last been hugged like that.

At first, every inch of his body told him to push the other one away, because sure something unpleasant was gonna happen to him if he didn't, but then there was something that made him forget about that part. Maybe that something was the fact that Blaine didn't rub his back. He didn't pat it like people often did. He just held him. Not moving, just holding him, breathing calmly. And it felt... there were no words to describe the feelings he felt in that moment. Because, sure, that kiss had felt amazing even though it had come out of total nowhere, but that had been nothing compared to this, not in Kurt's world at least.

And maybe you think that's weird, that he thought that a simple hug felt better than a kiss, but he wouldn't care if you did.

Kurt wasn't used to get hugged. Not from anyone but his dad. And though dad hugs were wonderful, and though he wasn't at all used to being kissed either; the embrace felt as if it was worth a million of those kisses.

"W –who are you?" Kurt asked breathlessly once they'd pulled apart a couple of minutes later. Blaine chuckled.

"I'm Blaine." he just said once again.

"Y –yeah but... who are you?" He was actually getting curious for real. "N –no one ever treats me like this. Esp –especially not someone like you." That last part hadn't really been meant to be said out loud.

"And who's someone like me?" Kurt would never ever get used to talk to someone who made eye contact with him without hesitation.

"Someone like that," he said, gesturing at Blaine's entire body. "like –confident. Someone who's as confident and cool about everything as you are ... Someone who's as beautiful as you are." Shit. He really had no filter left whatsoever. Blaine only smiled a kind of smile Kurt couldn't really decipher, though there was a sad glint in his eye.

"You need to start believing in yourself more, Kurt." he said, and there was yet another thing Kurt had to somehow managed to make sense out of. There were more obvious sides to this guy than anyone he'd ever met before.

"I do believe in myself. I believe that I'll be able to get out of here sometime in the future. But I don't believe in the person I am now. I don't believe in him at all." Kurt shook his head. It had been a long time since he'd last been this honest with anyone.

"Why not?" Blaine slid down to the floor, positioning himself so his left side was resting against one of the red lockers. Kurt sat down as well, resting his back against the metal. It sure didn't feel as cold with a layer of fabric between it and his skin.

He could feel Blaine's unbelievable eyes on him, and for a moment he didn't want to answer the question. He wasn't even completely sure of what the answer was.

"Well I... I'm not sure. But I'm just –have you listened to how I sound? All squealy and stuttering and–" he looked to his right to face Blaine for a moment, and;

"What are you smiling about?"

"You haven't stuttered at all for the past five minutes." he stated. Kurt stared. He hadn't?

"I –I haven't?" he asked.

"Oh don't start again then!" Blaine rolled his eyes. "You don't have to, you know. I'm not going to hurt you, so there's no need to be afraid."

"I swear," Kurt pointed at the other boy. "You are not from this world."

"I'm not?" he gave an amused, questioning, half smirk.

"Nope. You're, like, ten different people all at once. That's not human, you know." Kurt turned his head again, facing away from Blaine. "And it's not human to be able to make me feel this safe around you this quickly." he said, voice lowering into an almost whisper.

He feared what the reply would be, feared that he'd once again managed to screw everything up. But there was no reply; there was no time for any.

From somewhere behind them they could hear the sound of a door being opened, and seconds later a horde a sweaty, loud, teenage boys were storming into the room. They slammed the lockers as they passed, cheered and screamed.

"Hey Lady, you in here?" Kurt froze. "We missed you during class! What happened? Scared of balls? I must've been wrong about you, thought balls were, how do you say it... your thing?" called one of the jocks. The whole room got filled by the sound of mocking laughter and high fives once again. Kurt stared on his hands placed on his stomach.

'Here we go again.' He thought bitterly. Surely now Blaine would realize that it'd been a big mistake to talk to him?

Seconds later, the hoard reached the locker row which Kurt and Blaine was sitting by. And for a moment, everything was dead quiet.

"Found yourself a boyfriend did you, Hummel?" said David Karofsky after about three seconds of silence. There weren't as many people backing him up as usual, Kurt couldn't help but notice. Quite a lot of the sweaty pigs were actually looking at Blaine with a weird expression on their stupid faces. He was just about to turn his head around to ask Blaine why that was, when he appeared in front of him, reaching out a hand for him to take. It took a moment for Kurt to be able to control his body, and once he could, he was still resistant. Maybe this was all some sort of big plan the gang of Neanderthals now filling the locker room had somehow managed to put together. Make one of their friends from another school come and act as if though he was a really... interesting person, then just turning his back on him and laugh with everyone else, harder than ever, because the stupid little fag had believes someone liked him.

Blaine wiggled his fingers slightly and, once again, there was the eye contact that couldn't be broken by anything.

Don't worry, I'm not like them. You know that. Said his eyes. Or, at least that's what Kurt thought they did. Maybe that was what he wanted them to say.

It was worth the risk, he decided. He took Blaine's hand and with his help, got back to his feet. He expected him to let go of his hand once he was standing up again, but he didn't. He kept Kurt's hand in a tight, but comforting, grip.

"What if he did?" Blaine said, and Kurt had to turn and look at him. Because ones again, his voice sounded completely different from the last time he'd heard it. It was filled with poison and anger and a million other things that made him sure that, if Blaine had used that voice directed to him, he'd be running as quickly as possible as far away from him with his nonexistent tail between his legs.

And, Kurt found out, Karofsky hadn't expected that reply either. His wide, ugly, grin fell a little and his eyes flacked in confusion.

"What did you say?" he said then, trying his best to hide what had just happened in his head.

"I said," Blaine took a step towards the huge jock. "What if he did?"

Karofsky couldn't find an answer to this question. He just looked around him stupidly, searching for someone to back him up. He got nothing. Kurt felt like he could sing. He didn't even know for how long he'd been waiting for that moment. And now it was happening right in front of him. About forty minutes after he'd had his first kiss too, for that matter. There had to be some kind of wizardry behind this day, Kurt thought.

Karofsky snorted. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" he said then, looking at Blaine, but not meeting his eye.

"I'm Blaine." Blaine answered, forcing the huge teen to look in his eyes. "Hi." He smiled sweetly. "Who the fuck are you?"

"You don't know?"

"No?" he snorted, still holding Kurt's hand like it was absolutely nothing.

"Well then, I guess I'll have to teach you." Without warning, David swung his enormous fist towards Blaine's face, and if that had been Kurt, he knew he'd been knocked off his feet. But, Blaine wasn't him in any way. He had way better reflexes, and ducked before he got hit. A few more of the guys in the crowd started to look uneasy.

Before Karofsky had had the time to recover from the little shock that someone had been able to avoid his hit, a fist came flying towards his face. He screwed his eyes shut tightly, waiting to be hit, but he didn't. So he opened his eyes slowly. A knot hand was hovering just about an inch from his nose. He wrinkled his brow in confusion, then looked over at the guy who had introduced himself as Blaine. He was still smiling.

Who the hell does he think he is? he thought angrily. No one swung fists towards him. No one.

Kurt stared at Blaine, just like everyone else in the room. He found himself missing Blaine's hand around his own, but decided not to care about it. Because he'd been surprised as hell when Blaine had taken a swing of his own towards Karofsky, the guy Kurt would rather be eaten alive by some kind of alien than try to stand up to in any way, but he'd been even more surprised when Blaine hadn't actually hit him. He'd just sort of stopped.

"Okay." Blaine said, opening his hand. "I think I know who you are now." He smiled and patted David on his cheek, which, along with the rest of his face and neck, was red with anger.

"Collect your things Kurt, we're leaving." his voice immediately became weirdly softer when he spoke to him.

"O –okay." Kurt took his bag out of his open locker and jerkily put the clothes on the bench back into it.

Blaine smiled at him, his eyes looking almost apologetic as he looked into Kurt's. Then he took his hand again and wow why did his stomach do that?

"I'm sorry." Blaine said once they'd left the locker room behind.

"What?" He didn't understand the situation one bit.

"I just sorta got really angry at him."

"What are you talking about?" Kurt said in a little sort of chuckle.

"Well I almost hit him in the face." Blaine said.

"And that's bad because...?" Maybe it was, but Kurt just couldn't care about that part.

"Blaine, I met you like an hour ago, and during that time, you've been more of a friend to me than anyone has ever been to me in my entire life. And," He blushed a little, because it still felt so unreal. "a little more than that." Blaine smirked.

"You know I might kiss you again if you keep blushing like that." he told him. Kurt hit him on the arm playfully, and it made him really sort of happy how relaxed he was able to feel.

"Anyway, what you did in there –with Karofsky I mean, it's more than I've ever done, more than I'd ever have the courage to do."

Blaine put the hand that wasn't holding Kurt's under his chin, tilting it up a little so he could get a better look on his face.

"You're one of the prettiest people I've seen in my life –and that's saying something, 'cause I've been around looking quite a lot –and you really don't deserve to be treated like that."

It took all the willpower Kurt had to look away from those beautiful hazel eyes, but he was glad he was able to. Because he just couldn't look at Blaine at all anymore. He just couldn't.

"You need to stop that." he mumbled. Blaine chuckled.

"No really, you can't. I'm gonna have to set myself on fire if you do." Wow, it was like he was an entire different person. And he loved it.

"Well then, I guess I'll have to stop."

If I could just change a little bit more so maybe I'd have the courage to ask him to go and have coffee with me or something... he thought to himself.

Blaine's smirk widened. Kurt paled.

"Shit." he whimpered, feeling the color draining from his face. "I said that out loud didn't I?"

"Mhm." Blaine nodded, seemingly liking the situation quite a lot.

"I'm so–"

"Did you have some place special in mind?" Blaine cut off.

"What?" it came out as a whisper.

"For that coffee." said the boy who was still holding his hand in the middle of the school. (Well, the corridor was empty, but still.) "Did you have any place special in mind?"

"I –uh... yeah –but –but I mean –" Blaine put a finger over his lips. Kurt bushed deeper.

"Where?" he said then.

"Well, there's –there's this place called the –the Lima Bean that I really like. But if you don't –"

"Sounds like a date." Blaine said, starting to walk towards the school exit with his hand still holding Kurt's.

A date, he'd said.

Wow.

Okay.