JANUARY, 1992, SEATTLE, WA

           EVER SINCE SHE had seen Kurt's music video on MTV, Lindy had not been able to stop thinking about him.

She figured this was only natural and tried not to be too hard on herself. From her perspective, this new development in Kurt's current state of affairs was not only mind-boggling but just plain weird. Weird in a good way, though.

He had gone from the boy that she loved to the man she could catch on MTV's heavy rotation if she so wished to see him. For the first several weeks after seeing the video, which she later learned was called 'Smells Like Teen Spirit,' Lindy often found herself sitting quietly alone in her apartment and reminiscing on all the times in her life when she had predicted Kurt's fame with precise clairvoyance. 

She just never would have imagined it coming true on such a scale of grandeur.

Trae had come to visit her along with Allie shortly after they had both witnessed Kurt's performance. Together, he and Allie did their best to convince Lindy that she was not going crazy.

"He was your boyfriend, after all," Allie insisted. "I'd be a little freaked out too."

"She always knew this would happen, though," Trae had added. "Lindy was always saying that Kurt was going to make it."

And that she had. Kurt's biggest cheerleader, Lindy, was now watching him from the comfort of her own home while he lived up life as a newly christened rockstar. But that was just it. That was the biggest difference in the claims that Trae made -- Lindy had certainly guessed Kurt's impending fame, but she had always pictured herself alongside him as he endured it.

Lindy was beginning to notice now more than ever before how closed off she had become to the cultural world simply because she had wished for so long to avoid potential news of Kurt. Now when she left the house, she kept her eyes peeled for any signs that his success had indeed stemmed even farther than airtime on MTV.

For the first time in months, she truly noticed the smallest things, like magazine covers and gossip news outlets. What came with finally noticing these things meant seeing Kurt's face a whole lot more often than she was used to. She was constantly left shaken, unsure where he would pop up next. Even stranger than that was seeing people on the streets bestowing their support for Kurt and the rest of Nirvana. She saw countless teenagers sporting Nirvana shirts or carrying the Nevermind album in shopping bags.

In an outing with Trae shortly before Christmas, the siblings had entered a record store in search of an album Lindy had been on the lookout for; it was by a newer band named Pearl Jam. In the store, Trae had let out an awkward cough, to which Lindy had turned and approached him.

She had uttered a little choking sound when she saw what he was staring at.

It was rows upon rows of Nirvana's album, the bright blue cover standing out amongst the other slew of records. The cover, which featured an infant boy swimming after a hooked dollar bill, mirrored Kurt's taste in art so much that Lindy felt slightly light-headed.

"Do you want it?" Trae had asked quietly.

Lindy almost said no. She thought that the sound of his voice, spinning on repeat in her home, would drive her back into a maddening depression. But on second thought, she reached out and selected one of the records, holding it up to the light.

"Why not?" she'd asked, a tingling sensation rushing across her skin. She was buying her ex-boyfriend's record. Not weird at all.

"You guys came at the right time," the store owner had piped in, heaving a great sigh as he leaned against a large stack of boxes. Each box was brimming with more Nevermind copies.

"They've been selling out so fast, we can't even keep them in stock. Just got a new batch today. Guess a lot of kids want Nirvana for Christmas, eh?"

Lindy had mumbled something that she had intended to come out as 'right,' but it fell from her mouth as some garbled gibberish. Trae had paid for the record and lead her out by her arm, shaking his head.

It was this collection of events that evoked a swirling feeling within Lindy, a gradually forceful push that was starting to insinuate that she should do something rather stupid.

She was thinking of contacting Kurt.

Don't you fucking dare, her mind had snapped as she'd paced her living room nearly every night, arms folded and thoughts racing.

She wanted so badly to talk to him. To congratulate him. To ask how and when this magical bout of fame had befallen Nirvana while she had been away from him. She had no desire to slink into his inner circle; all she wanted was to talk to him, to gauge what could possibly be going through his ever-expansive mind. She wanted to hear his voice just one last time and then she would leave him be forever. 

But then again, maybe the reason that Nirvana had finally hit the big time had everything to do with the fact that Kurt had finally rid himself of her. Maybe she had been right. She had weighed him down for far too long . . .

Lindy kept that idea in mind until a cold January morning as she left for work.

She'd decided to stop for coffee, having slept in too late to make it herself. As she had parked her car and gotten out, walking up the street towards a Starbucks, she'd stopped dead in her tracks while passing a convenience store.

Out front, lines of magazines were set up in stands, their glossy covers facing the street. Towards the middle of the rows was the image of a face that she knew very well.

Picking it up, Lindy stared into the smiling eyes of Kurt, who was looking directly into the camera with an impish grin. His hair was a startling shade of raspberry red, a strange contrast from his normally yellow blonde locks. She would have probably simpered at the picture, giggling at his new hair style, but something else had smacked her straight in the face.

A blonde woman was leaning into Kurt, kissing his cheek with plump red lips. Her eyes were closed and from the way Kurt was grabbing her shoulders, it was clear that they were a couple.

Lindy had to tell herself that the rippling shudder she felt beneath her feet was only her imagination and no one else could feel it. But nonetheless, she felt like the world was starting to quake, shaking her slowly at first but more and more violently as each second passed. She didn't realize how hard she was gripping the magazine until she loosened her fingers.

'Ain't Love Grand?' the title read next to their faces, right beneath the magazine's name -- Sassy. Underneath that in smaller lettering, it said 'Kurt of Nirvana and Courtney of Hole.'

Lindy, swallowing back the bile that was rising in her throat, returned the magazine to its place. She could not, she would not, allow this to bring her down.

Tightening the scarf around her neck, Lindy briskly walked ahead, keeping her head down and attempting to force the magazine cover from her mind. She didn't want to see it anymore. She didn't want to see this alleged Courtney kissing Kurt, or Kurt holding her closer, egging the kiss on.

She had always known that he'd find someone else. Kurt was not a man who could be alone, no matter how much he boasted of his solitude. He was the kind of guy who radiated the aura of someone who needed to be taken care of. It was no surprise that another women had latched onto him and fulfilled the role that Lindy had once held. 

But deep down, she was hurt. She had never truly considered just how painful it would be to see him in love with someone else. She'd spent so much time merely trying to get over him that not once had she imagined him finding love with a person who wasn't her.

This is good though, Lindy thought. Now you won't do something stupid like try to talk to him.

No, she would definitely not be contacting Kurt. She would let him be as she had promised to him nearly two years ago. He looked happy, anyways. She didn't want to disturb him. She had to remind herself that their time together had long passed. It had died with them both in their little apartment and was now buried there, resting for the duration of eternity.

She could never let it live again.

_________

By a stroke of phenomenon, or maybe serendipity, Lindy was presented with a very peculiar decision on the same day that she saw Kurt and Courtney's magazine cover.

Standing by the front desk of her designated floor, Lindy was sorting through a stack of charts that had been passed off to her. She was deeply invested in this task, thumbing through each manila folder with laser-like focus. Anything that would get her mind off what she had seen that morning was a positive thing as far as she was concerned. 

"Lindsey?"

Lindy had been so entrenched by her chart-counting that she had not seen the white coat appear directly behind her. When she heard her name, she sprung up in surprise, gasping and slapping her hand to her chest.

"I didn't mean to scare you," laughed the voice from behind. When Lindy turned, she recognized one of the obstetrician gynecologists from her unit behind her, smiling good-naturedly. She cleared her throat in embarrassment, straightening her scrubs after she processed that this doctor was also the same one all of the nurses tittered about for being 'gorgeous.'

"It's okay. I'm not used to being addressed as Lindsey, that's all," she said, gathering the charts in her arms.

"Is that so?" the doctor said, raising his eyebrows. "What are you called, then?"

"Um, Lindy," she explained, tucking back a loose strand of hair that had escaped her ponytail. "Childhood nickname," she added upon seeing the confusion that crossed the doctor's face.

"Lindy. Huh. I like that. It's unique," the doctor smiled. Lindy felt her face blush red all the way to the roots of her hair.

It was common knowledge in the hospital that a doctor could behave in one of two ways towards a nurse; flirtatiously, or in the fashion of being a total asshole. Clearly, this doctor had chosen the former when approaching Lindy.

"And you're Dr. Turner," Lindy said politely. She'd momentarily forgotten his name being that she normally did not work under his instruction. She recalled that most of the nurses behind his back called him by his first name -- Jack. Lindy had crossed paths with him a few times when he'd needed an extra hand in delivery rooms, but other than that, she had never really taken notice of him.

"That's correct," Dr. Turner smiled.

Damn. He really was good-looking. Lindy was reminded of the character Jake Ryan from the film Sixteen Candles, though he didn't really bear a resemblance. She would have never admitted it back then, but she had thought Jake Ryan was just about the cutest guy that she had ever seen.

"So, Lindy," Dr. Turner began casually, tucking his hands into the pockets of his white doctors coat. "Are you free in about thirty minutes?"

Lindy nearly dropped all of the charts she was holding.

"Excuse me?" she stammered.

Dr. Turner smiled crookedly. "For an appointment I have with a high risk patient. She's coming in today for a checkup since she just recently had her amniocentesis with Dr. Richards. I'll need someone to get her vitals for me."

"Oh," Lindy said, blowing out a sigh of air. Feeling thoroughly mortified, she nodded, avoiding Dr. Turner's eyes. "Yes. I'll help."

She found herself briefly wondering why Dr. Turner had singled her out when he surely had plenty of nurses on hand who could help him, but Lindy soon found her answer as they began walking and turned a corner that led them into an empty corridor.

"Lindy?" Dr. Turner asked. She paused, looking over her shoulder. The charts were getting to be heavy.

"Yeah?" she replied, slightly out of breath.

"I . . . well, you see, the real reason I approached you today was because I want to know if I could take you out. On a date."

There was a beat of strained silence. Lindy squinted. She must have heard him wrong.

"You want to . . . take me on a date?" she clarified slowly.

Dr. Turner laughed bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish expression.

"Yes. That's exactly what I want to do. I've been meaning to ask for quite sometime. I know it's not very appropriate of me, considering that we work together, but I thought it would only be fair to at least ask you."

For the first time in awhile, Lindy felt tongue-tied. She felt a mix of emotions, from surprise to smugness to fear. Would it be uncouth to go on a date with one of her superiors?

But then she remembered the magazine from earlier that morning. She remembered Kurt's face, smothered by a strange woman's kiss. She did not need to think twice to understand that the cover made one thing ultimately clear to her -- Kurt had moved on. And she was allowed to move on to.

"That sounds nice," Lindy belatedly agreed. "I would like that."

Dr. Turner appeared surprised by her answer, but quickly smiled before producing a slip of paper and pen in which he gave to Lindy to jot down her number. He held the charts for her while she did so and she found her eyes flickering to him as she scribbled out her home phone number.

"I'll call you," Dr. Turner smiled happily, turning out of the corridor. He stopped abruptly to look back at Lindy. "And uh, don't worry about joining me for that appointment today. I don't think it will be necessary considering . . . our situation."

Lindy nodded in agreement, smiling back at him before continuing down the hallway. Her head was spinning as she thought of what she had just done.

She had to find Beth.