I remember you. You were the object of my adoration when we were in the first grade. During recess, the girls and I would swoon as we watched you play soccer with Jason T. In my amorous haze, I would profess my undying love for you by writing MK + KM in the dirt. You were truly the bee’s knees.

I moved away soon thereafter and lost touch with you. Several years later, your mother would come into the grocery store I worked at while I was in high school. I regaled her with my memories of my childhood crush on her son. She had one of your senior pictures in her wallet. I looked at it with a nostalgic eye and remembered the innocence, the recess rendezvous, the earthen scribblings. I found it all so amusing by the time I’d reached high school.

Fast forward to last night. I saw you on national television. You were on “So You Think You Can Dance.” Imagine how my amusement transformed into amazement when I saw my childhood crush on the screen. You’re a professional choreographer now! You’ve worked with the likes of Pink, Janet Jackson, and Justin Timberlake.


After I picked my jaw up off of the floor, I explained it all to my husband. Of course, you don’t seem to be “my type” nowadays, and I comforted my disconcerted husband with those words.

I would have never thought of you as a choreographer, but alas…It’s a feeling I can’t quite convey, seeing you—my first crush—in the spotlight. But I wish you well. Your success is well deserved, I am sure. If your work ever brings you through South Texas, drop me a line. I’d love to meet the man behind some of my favorite artists’ dance moves. That is, if you even remember little ole me.

Here’s to the Hickman days and the auspicious days ahead.


Kelli Rhea