Our story begins in Spring 2021 at Kansas State University, when we got randomly assigned to the same group project in Crop Science. Erik was calm, responsible, and had definitely read the textbook. Rylee was enthusiastic, confused, and probably googling what "loam" meant mid-meeting.

We passed the project. The project ended. And so did the contact. No follow-up. No dramatic goodbye. Just a “cool, good luck” and a mutual fade into academic oblivion.

Enter Fall 2021.

Welding class. Thursday nights. Three hours. Required.

Because nothing says “second chance at destiny” like shared shop fumes and live electrical current.

From the first lab, Erik stood out as a Welding Wizard—cool, competent, and slightly intimidating with a welding torch. Rylee, meanwhile, asked if it was “bad” for the welder to spark near her sleeve. (Spoiler: yes.)

Erik offered to carpool. Rylee brought the snacks and the playlist. And just like that, Thursday nights became less about lab credits and more about the slowest-slow-burn in K-State history.

A few weeks in, Erik asked if Rylee wanted to grab dinner.

She said yes, thinking it was a “yay we survived the lab” outing.

So they went to Buffalo Wild Wings, shared fries, had a great time… and then continued not dating.

Was it a date? Erik thought so.

Was Rylee oblivious? Deeply.

Did anyone else watching this unfold start placing bets? Almost certainly.

Then came December 2021.

The Houston Trip.

K-State’s bowl game. A road trip. A test of friendship, patience, and lung capacity.

The trip was… not great. Traffic. Weird energy. Questionable GPS decisions. And—most memorably—hours of driving in a car with enough cigarette smoke to qualify as a warning label. Rylee, a known fresh-air enthusiast, was suffering silently. (Mostly.)

But somewhere in that foggy, cough-inducing cloud, something clicked.

“Oh. I like him. I like like him.”

It should’ve been the moment. The realization was there. The timing was right-ish.

And yet... we still didn’t start dating.

Why? Honestly, no one knows. We blame road trip exhaustion. And smoke inhalation.

Finally, in January 2022, we got it together and made it official.

We told our friends. The response?

“FINALLY.”

No surprises. Just relieved sighs, a few “called it” comments, and at least one person asking what took so long.

Since then, we’ve:

- Yelled at K-State football games like we were on staff,

- Gone on road trips with cleaner air and slightly better planning,

- Shared a whole lot of fries and a whole lot of laughs.

In July 2024, Erik proposed—no ambiguity, no Welding masks, no smoke—and Rylee said YES (out loud, on purpose, and with full lung capacity).

Now we’re counting down to April 25, 2026, when we’ll say “I do” in front of everyone who watched this go from:

“Remember when they did a group project together?”

to

“Wait, they’re STILL not dating?”

to

“It’s about time.”

Because some love stories start with fireworks.

Ours started with a group project, got real in Welding, took a detour through a hazy Houston road trip, and finally landed in forever.

And honestly?

We’d do it all again.

(Minus the car.)