“Jesus, Rachel! Could you take any longer calling me back?” Kurt grumbles, juggling his phone and his books as he fights his way through the crowd for a seat at an empty table with an available computer. The campus coffee shop is always busy during the school day. Students pop in to log onto the café laptops between classes and check their email more than they do to buy coffee, so Kurt usually makes it a point to never go there. The coffee tastes burnt anyway, and he prefers to use his laptop at home. But this is an emergency. He needs information, and he needs it now.

“According to my phone, I called you back literally a minute later,” Rachel says in her defense. “I just got out of class a second ago, too, you know. Cassie’s glaring at me as it is. I think she’s about to grand jete over and fan kick me in the face!”

“Bob and weave, Berry, bob and weave. This is important.”

“What is it!?” she asks. A chorus of “Hey!” and “Watch it!” accompany her question, and Kurt pictures her shoving her five-foot-three-inch self out the door. “Did you get that solo in Vocal Studies class?”

“No.” Kurt rushes a table being stared down by three other students, beating them to the punch. “Actually, yes,” he backpedals, not realizing what he’d said till now.

“Oh my God, Kurt!” Rachel gushes. “That’s wonderful!”

“Yes, it is,” Kurt agrees, pausing for a moment to properly appreciate that accomplishment. “And I’ll tell you all about that when I see you, but this is something else.”

“Something better!?”

“Let’s just say it might be on par, but in a separate category.”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense! Tell me!”

“Alright.” Kurt logs on to the computer and pulls up his profile and schedule. “I just met the most incredible guy.”

“Ooo! Spill!”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Kurt squeals. “He’s in my Musical Theater Performance class.” Kurt scrolls through his schedule on the screen and selects that class, but the roster hasn’t been posted by his professor yet. Damn! Can’t find him that way. “He’s a year ahead of us, and God! You should see him!”

“Is he handsome?” Rachel asks. He gets the impression from the sudden calm on her end of the call that she’s either arrived at her class early or ducked into the bathroom.

“Handsome is an understatement. He’s got the most incredible eyes. When he looks at you, it’s like you’re the only person in the room …”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.” Kurt navigates the directory as he talks, trying to find his mystery man by entering his first name in correlation to that class, but no dice. “He has the most perfect mouth in existence.”

“Definitely important.”

“And his voice …” Kurt sighs. “It’s just …”

“Dreamy?”

Kurt sighs again. “I wouldn’t ever use that adjective, but yeah. He’s dreamy. He’s also funny. We got paired together to ad lib a 1930’s inspired scene. I was so nervous, but he had me laughing the entire time. He’s just so … flirty. And smart, and talented.”

“You learned all of that in one class?”

“Rachel, in the space of that one class I saw him play three instruments flawlessly and heard him hold a conversation in five separate languages. I think I can vouch for intelligence and talent.”

“What else?” Rachel asks, sounding beyond excited for her best friend. “What’s he majoring in? What dorm does he live in? Is he gay?”

“That, I don’t know,” Kurt answers, mostly addressing the “gay” question. “I’m trying to look up his student profile for clues, except … crap.” Kurt drums his fingers on the computer.

“Crap what?”

“I’m spacing on his last name. It’s Blaine something-with-an-a. And you know how touchy this system is. Blaine Alexson, Blaine Andelson …”

“It’s Anderson,” a voice behind him supplies helpfully. “A-n-d-e-r-s-o-n.”

“That’s it! Oh my goodness, thank you! Thank you so much!” Kurt types in the correction and pulls up Blaine’s student profile. “Dammit!”

“What?” the voice behind him and Rachel ask at the exact same time.

“Well, it doesn’t have anything listed – not his major, his dorm, his email address, anything. Hmm, I wonder what he’s hiding.”

“Nothing. I just like my privacy,” the voice behind him says. A chair pulls up and a man sits down.

Kurt doesn’t turn to face his guest. He doesn’t get the chance. He becomes solid stone. Without even looking, Kurt realizes who’s sitting next to him; the shade of red overwhelming his cheeks a testament to that fact.

“Uh … I’ll have to call you back, Rach.” Kurt hangs up the call and puts down his phone, cutting short a barrage of, “Why? What’s wrong? What’s happening---?”

Kurt swallows. He glances to his right. When he sees the face smiling at him, he murmurs, “Oh … God.”

“Nope,” the man sitting next to him says. “Just Blaine. Blaine Anderson.” He taps the computer screen, pointing to his photograph with his name underneath. “And you are …” Blaine types on the keyboard one-handed, bringing up Kurt’s profile with a few deft strokes, “Kurt Hummel.”

“Uh …” Kurt stutters, horrified that he’s been caught red-handed. “That’s me,” he admits lamely, feeling that’s a better response than another monosyllabic uh.

“Well, it’s nice to officially meet you, Kurt,” Blaine says. “I wanted to introduce myself to you after class, but you took off pretty quickly.” Blaine chuckles nervously, since now he knows why.

Kurt tries to laugh, too, but it comes out as another painful rendition of, “Oh, God.”

“It seems like you have your email listed in your profile,” Blaine points out, both flattered and amused by Kurt’s temporary paralysis, “but, if you’d like …” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a business card. Oh my God! Kurt thinks. He’s got business cards? “This has my email address on it, and my phone number.” Blaine sets it on the table next to Kurt’s phone. “Maybe I can take you out for coffee some time?”

“Yeah,” Kurt says, finally managing something other than uh and oh, God. “That sounds like it would be … nice.”

Kurt nods.

Blaine nods.

Yeah, Kurt thinks. This is going downhill fast.

“Good,” Blaine says, undeterred. “I have to get to my next class, but I expect to hear from you. Soon, alright? Don’t be a stranger.”

Why? Can he act any stranger than this? Kurt’s not sure that’s possible. “I won’t,” Kurt says, eyes following Blaine as he walks into the crowd. Blaine turns at the door, gives him a wave, then disappears into the oncoming throng.

“Oh, God,” Kurt moans, returning to tried and true as he drops his head on the keyboard and smacks his forehead lightly against the keys. That couldn’t have gone worse than if he’d planned it that way. His phone rings and he answers it blindly, his eyes flicking to the business card Blaine left on the table. “Hello?”

“Kurt! Kurt, what’s wrong? You cut me off.”

“I got his phone number. He wants to take me out for coffee.”

“That’s … that’s great!” Rachel cheers.

“Yeah.” Kurt grabs the card and sticks it in his pocket for safekeeping. “Too bad I can’t call him.”

“Why not!?”

“Because I died of embarrassment about three minutes ago.”