This one actually makes sense.

I am visiting Mudd again - it seems they are having a luncheon for the students who have decided to go there. I leave my dad sitting in our old red Nissan (we got rid of it about a year ago) - I don't really want to be seen with him, or the truck. I walk unsteadily down the center of campus, determined to walk only on the grass because the sound of my heels on the walkway makes too much noise. I just want to slip in unannounced.

They have removed the koi pond and planted grass in the small courtyard. I grab a plate of potato salad and black olives and sit at one of the wooden picnic tables, where the physics prof is sitting. As I begin to make small conversation, I see Andrew talking to some other kids in the buffet line. "I'm not actually going here," I hear him say, "that's why I'm wearing this shirt." His shirt is blue, plaid and flannel, like a lumberjack's. Underneath he is wearing a tuxedo. His hair looks jet black in the sunlight. I look down and realize I am wearing a sun dress, much like the other girls at the luncheon.

Andrew joins me at the picnic table and again explains the importance of his blue shirt. I smile and start to talk to him, but he cuts me off and explains urgently to the prof that he is not actually going to Mudd. Once he has made his point clear, he begins talking at me. Not to me, because he doesn't seem to want a response. I wonder why he can't bear to have any silence in our one-sided conversation. It reminds me, strikingly, of the night I couldn't stop talking as we danced. It's like we have to get everything out before I have to leave.