It was a sunny day. I was standing by the Littlefield Fountain, watching the great work by sculptors. The water burst forth in an endless flow, sprays shining brightly under the sunshine. The sound of rushing water echoed with the laughter of people walking by. So obsessed with the rapid water and the magnificent sculpture, I could not look away.

Then suddenly a boy came to the frame. With curly hair and a white shirt, he did not interrupt the harmony and beauty of the whole. Rays of sunshine fell into his face and his white shirt. Water stopped. Time stilled. He stood there, looking at the fountain. I stood there, looking at him.

What’s his name? Which college was he in? Moody? McCombs? LBJ? I wanted to meet him again! I wanted to know more about him! I internally shouted to myself. The boy seemed to have a magic power that captured my mind. However, I had never seen him again since the “fountain meet.”

A few weeks later, I walked past the fountain again and thought about when I could meet that boy.

“Hey Jenny!” my friend Jack patted my shoulder and I turned to him.

“How’s everything going?” he asked me.

“Good.” I replied.

“Tell you what, I just saw a really cute guy in this gay dating app! See?” He shouted aloud and showed me his phone.

It was the boy.