What should Kale University's motto be?

About a week after the heating system was fixed, my philosophy professor reminded me of why I had come to Kale in the first place. I was sitting in a circle with my fellow students when Professor Caldwell told us that she was giving us a new assignment. At first, I was a little bit worried. Was this a paper? Would I be able to write another one of those? I felt as if the many papers that my other professors had assigned me were draining words from my brain. Does creativity ever run out? If such a thing is possible, then surely school was speeding up the process. Perhaps Brendon was right, and I would never use a day of my education, if only because that education was destroying my creativity and self-expression.

My fears dissipated when Professor Caldwell handed out a description of the assignment. "As you can see, your assignment is to create a motto for Kale University," she explained. "It is due at this time next week, and although there is no written component to the assignment, you must be able to verbally defend your choice in front of the class. The motto can be anything that you would like, but it must represent your values, the values of Kale University, or the values that a Kale University education should develop and demonstrate."

The girl sitting next to me raised her hand. "I don't understand what we're supposed to do," she said. "Can you give us an example of a good motto, Professor?"

"I believe that last year's motto is a fantastic example," Professor Caldwell said. "A student last year submitted 'I don't just want to be a footnote in someone else's happiness' for this project, which summed up both her own values and the independent spirit of the Kale University student body."

Already, my heart was racing. This was the moment that I had been waiting for. The idea that Kale philosophy students picked a new motto for the school each year had excited me ever since I first discovered the school. Now, it was my turn to propose a new school motto that would appear on all of the promotional material for the next year. Ideas buzzed around my brain, but none of them seemed quite right.

Professor Caldwell continued to explain the project. "After all of you present your mottos next week, myself and the rest of the philosophy department will select the three mottos that best represent Kale University and send them out to the remainder of the student body. Your peers will ultimately decide what Kale University's motto will be for the upcoming school year."

The boy across from me raised his hand and asked, "Can you vote for your own motto?"

"Let's discuss that if you get to that stage, Eduardo," Professor Caldwell said. "Are there any other questions?"

That was possibly the worst question to ask in a room full of philosophy students. Professor Caldwell ended up answering our questions for the rest of class, some of which were only tangentially related to the motto assignment. I could hardly conceal my excitement. This was the kind of project that I had come to Kale University for. There were so many different words and phrases that could make good mottos, and as Professor Caldwell spoke, I tried to piece them together into a slogan that would embody everything that Kale University stood for.

However, when I left Morals, Values, and Ethics, I realized that I didn't really have any great ideas for a motto. I couldn't stop thinking about it, but everything that I could come up with seemed too wordy, too complicated to explain easily, or too much like a mindless regurgitation of something that I had read somewhere else. All of the best ideas had already been used, leaving only the leftovers for people like me. For an assignment that I had been so enthusiastic about, I struggled to come up with something worthy of such a project.

That night, I went to the Aubergine to clear my mind. I explained my predicament to Brendon, who simply replied, "How am I supposed to help you with that?"

"I don't know," I said. "You have a way with words sometimes."

"Words are knives that often leave scars," Brendon said.

"Don't you see what I mean?" Ryan said. "If that wasn't so negative, I might steal it and make it our school motto."

"Your school motto," Brendon corrected me. "I don't go to Kale."

"I almost forgot about that," I said. "Anyways, can you please help me?"

"You're the philosopher, not me," Brendon said. "I'm sure you'll come up with something clever."

He kissed me and then left me alone to ponder what exactly Kale University's motto should be. I wandered over to the piano bench and softly pressed my fingers to the keys, hoping that the piano would let out a few of its many secrets. Unfortunately, it didn't, but I did wonder if I might be able to relate the piano to Kale. There were plenty of intelligent things that I could say about the instrument, and any of them could make a great motto. However, I couldn't quite put the words together.

Throughout the night, I asked Brendon if he had any ideas, but my boyfriend wasn't able to help me. This was a problem that I would have to solve on my own. Eventually, I decided that a good night's sleep would give my mind some rest, and I would be refreshed and ready to come up with a good motto the next morning. I left the Aubergine early, went to bed even before Patrick did, and reconsidered the motto assignment the next day.

I met up with Pete at breakfast and explained my predicament to him, but he was just as useless as Brendon. "That sounds like such a neat project," Pete said. "I should have taken freshman year philosophy just for that."

"What should I do for my motto?" I asked.

"I know what I would do if I were in that class," Pete said. "If death is the last appointment, then we're all just sitting in the waiting room."

"Pete, that's too depressing to be a school motto," I said.

"Thank you, Ryan," Pete said.

"It wasn't a compliment," I said.

After breakfast, I went back to Flack Hall and worked on some of my other homework, but the motto assignment haunted me throughout the day. What would happen if I couldn't come up with something? I would surely fail the assignment, and I couldn't afford that. Perhaps if I was smarter, then I could skip this project altogether without sacrificing my grade in the class. What defined intelligence anyways? Was it an affinity for learning, the ability to acquire more knowledge than others, or simply the ability to guess answers on multiple choice tests? I didn't have any of those things, so perhaps I would never know.

Around eleven o'clock in the morning, my mother called. I put my Principles of Ecology textbook down and picked up the phone. "Hello?" I said.

"Ryan!" Mom exclaimed. "It's so good to talk to you. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," I said. "I was in the middle of doing homework though. Can we talk later?"

"I suppose so, but I thought that you might like to talk to your mother for once," Mom said.

Why are all mothers so gifted in guilting their children into doing things for them? I sighed and said, "What is it, Mom?"

"I remembered who Brendon Urie is," Mom said.

"How do you know him, Mom?" I asked. It seemed like I had finally found an answer to the question that I had been asking for so long.

"Ryan, do you remember Amanda Mulligan?" Mom asked. "She went to high school with you."

"Sort of," I said. "She was in my science class once."

"I was talking to her dad at the grocery store the other day," Mom said. "He mentioned that Amanda was friends with Brendon Urie in high school, and that jogged my memory."

"Mom, how is any of this relevant?" I asked.

"Brendon went to your high school," Mom said. "If I remember correctly, he graduated two years before you did and went to Yale University to study theater."

"You must be confused," I said. "Maybe there are two Brendon Uries."

"It's not exactly a common name, sweetheart," Mom said.

An image flashed into my mind of a bespectacled, bracefaced teenager with a dorky haircut walking through the halls of Bishop Gorman High School alongside me. At first, my mind didn't make the connection, but his oversized forehead gave it away. My mom's words were true.

I hadn't paid much attention to Brendon back in high school, and I suddenly wished that I had. I could have fallen in love with him much sooner if I had only given him the chance. Did Brendon even know that we had gone to the same high school? If he did, he hadn't said anything. Brendon didn't exactly like to talk about his past, although I didn't understand why.

"Maybe you're right, Mom," I said. "I should probably tell you something about Brendon and I though."

"What is it?" Mom asked.

"Brendon is my boyfriend now," I said.

"That's wonderful, Ryan," Mom said. "I'm very happy for you."

"Thanks, Mom," I said.

My mother and I continued to chat for another few minutes while I considered the implications of what she had just told me. According to Mom, Brendon had gone to Yale after high school. Did this mean that Brendon was still at Yale? I had always thought that Yale was full of stuck up rich snobs, but perhaps Brendon was the exception that proved the rule. It was the only explanation that I could think of.

I suddenly remembered the day that Dallon showed up at the Aubergine and the story that he had told about Brendon. Clearly, some of that story was true, or at least more than Brendon was willing to let on. Brendon did date Dallon, and he had gone to Yale. Was the rest of it true as well?

I immediately dismissed the idea. Dallon was a liar, and Brendon was not an alcoholic dropout. I knew him too well for that to be true. Dallon was only lying to keep the two of us apart.

That night, I spoke to Brendon again at the Aubergine. "Just out of curiosity, which high school did you go to?" I asked him in a desperate attempt to confirm my mother's claims.

"Bishop Gorman High School," Brendon answered. "It's in Las Vegas."

"That's where I went too," I said.

Brendon raised an eyebrow and said, "Really?" I nodded, and he said, "That's quite a coincidence."

"My mom told me everything," I said. "I just wanted to make sure that it was true. You looked different back then."

Brendon laughed and said, "Maybe a little bit. I got my braces off the day I graduated from high school, and I started wearing contacts and changed my haircut shortly after that. I don't know about you, but I'm pretty glad I did my little makeover before I started college. It really does show off my best features." He smiled, and I couldn't help but agree.

I looked towards the piano, and all of a sudden, a motto came to me. The words had been within me all along, but until that moment, I didn't realize how perfectly they would work for this project. "The piano knows something I don't know," I said under my breath.

"What are you talking about?" Brendon asked.

"I've come up with the perfect motto," I said. "The piano knows something I don't know."

As I performed that night, I recited the motto over and over in my head, and I realized just how true it was. The piano had probably known all along that Brendon and I went to the same high school, or that he was a Yale student, but there were other secrets that it hadn't yet revealed. The piano would always be one step ahead of me, knowing something that I didn't, but as long as I had my friends and my boyfriend beside me, that wouldn't matter.