“Hey guys.” I knew they would be at the docks. I've always seen them headed there on my way back from the dining hall. It's been hard to ignore the way they've all gotten redder or tanner. And they all sport the same damp hair when they come to dinner. Right now, they all are sporting the same expression, staring at me like the Sandlot movie poster. Maybe they were squinting against the sun. But I doubt it.
“Well, boys, look who it is.” Sebastian leers at me from where he's leaning coolly against the rail of the dock. “Now, Kurt, are you sure Blaine is okay without you? It's been a whole, what,” He uncrosses his arms to make a show of checking his watch. “Ten seconds already.”
Right about now I'd love to tell him to go fuck himself. But, I know him. Everyone has a method of self preservation. This is his: being a snarky bitch. “Sebastian please. I came here to apologize.”
Okay, I definitely could've gone without the heavy sigh. “Go ahead then.” When my eyes dart between his unimpressed ensemble he raises an eyebrow at me. I had meant privately. Cal wasn't apart of this fight. So, why should he be a part of the apology? Trent I can kind of understand. However, I'm not privy to airing my dirty laundry in front of the entire camp. But, when he laughs bitterly, turning for their confirmation, I glean a bit of how much he is relying on them. This pathetic little entourage is his backbone. Funny, I'm usually his spine. “Today, maybe.”
“I'm sorry?” That's all I have to offer for his audience. The rest is too personal, would leave me too vulnerable under Marty's unforgiving stare.
“Is it a question?” He asks, completely blind to the fact that this is not at all his place. Both Sebastian and I direct our attention to Marty. The whole group does. Bas discourages further outbursts with a subtle head shake. I'm surprised at how well he managed to tame his lions in only the few days of my banishment from the group.
I bite back my bitterness when Bas asks “what are you sorry for?”
“I didn't realize my spending time with Blaine was upsetting to you guys. I hadn't meant to prioritize him over anyone else. I just, I've never felt like this for someone else before. Not this much. Not that that's any excuse for being a shitty friend. So, I'm sorry.” And again with the dirty laundry.
Still it's enough for him. “I accept your apology.”
Those four words and it feels as if a weight has been lifted off my chest. The same weight that pushes tears past your lashes or completely obliterates every last one of your nerves. “Great. So…” As I step forwards, trying to reclaim my place in the group, a nervous sort of teeter breaks out in the peanut gallery.
Like a seasoned hunter, Sebastian senses the disturbance. He steps up to meet me. “I didn't say it was okay.”
“I didn't either…” I try to measure up to his stance. But Bas has always had a couple of good inches on me. And, what's more, is he knows how to use those inches to make me feel absolutely miniscule.
He takes another step forwards, refusing to let me back out of this. “Then, like,” He raises a hand to wave me off. I smack it down. I think the gasp I hear is from Cal. Poor sweet Cal. And I instantly want to take it back.
“Sorry.” I say on the same instinct that made me hit him in the first place. “You're turn to say it.”
I feel a hand push my chest, thinking it's Sebastian. But then Alfie is between us. “He's done nothing wrong.”
That's a laugh. “Hm. Really? Well that's not how I see it.”
“Cool, no one asked you.” And that is quite a hoot. Who gave Alfie the audacity to insert himself into this matter in such a manner. I can guarantee that this interaction has absolutely nothing to do with him.
“Actually, no one asked you. But, it's cool.” I throw my hands up in surrender, backing away. “I'll see you guys later, I guess.” Their scorching gazes leave a more severe burn on my back than the sun as I turn away from them.
That was stupid. I don't even know why I bother with Sebastian. He needs to grow up. They all do. Once college actually starts, no one will want to put up with their petty games anymore.
Once college starts, no one will want to put up with me. I can't stop that thought from tumbling around in my mind. Sebastian seems to have everyone that actually liked me in our grade against me. He's managed to do the same to himself, too. And Blaine won't want to hang around me then, either. Him and his friends only care so much now because they're leading the camp. Maybe Mercedes. Possibly Rachel, too. What luck I have.
I just can't believe I skipped Blaine's short course in cartooning just to make amends with literally the shittiest person ever. I was looking forward to that class for a week. I had made up a million scenarios in my mind of how that class could make him realize his love for me. Granted, everyone was more far fetched than the next. But missing his class is definitely not going to win me any brownie points. He looked so hopeful when he asked if I was going to make it. When I said I had something else I had to do, something that may as well have been for naught, his eyes seemed to dim. He smiled nonetheless, saying he'd just have to wait until later to hear how fashion class went.

“Tell me everything.” Blaine smiles at me from behind his sunglasses. Supporting his upper weight with his forearms, he leans back in a very relaxed manner. It is weird and incredibly exciting to think that this time last week I was dying for only one word from him. Now, I have him carving time out of his day to sit by the lake and talk to me because he is simply dying to know how my day went. The only thing slightly dampening my mood is that I spy Alfie and Marty sitting on their cabin deck just over Blaine's shoulder.
“It was great!” I admit, reminding myself to smile and ignore them. They don't matter; Blaine does. “I mean Rachel was…” I shrug my shoulders, trying to find an appropriate word for such a lady. “sweet?”
Blaine nods as if he knows exactly what I mean.“Yeah, one could say that. She's a little, uhm,” he twist up his nose, pursing his lips. He, too, seems to be out of words for Rachel. “Eccentric.”
“A little?” When Blaine laughs I notice Alfie turn around to stare at us. Then he turns back to whisper to Marty, leaving his friend with a look I can only know as conniving. “I made a friend, though.” I shift gears, yanking my eyes back to Blaine. Part of me hopes they hear that yeah, I have other friends. I don't need them.
“Oh, that's great!” With his exclamation, Blaine sits up right, tucking his legs into criss cross applesauce. “What's her name?”
“Mercedes Jones.”
Blaine hums in recognition, tugging up a blade of grass. “She's going into her, uhm,”
“Sophomore year.” I supply.
“Yes, that's right.” I watch his hands work to diligently twist the grass into a small knot. Of course even his fingers look strong, deft. “She's nice.”
“Yeah, very nice.” is the most intelligent thing my mouth can develop on it's own. My brain is too busy mentally slotting Blaine's hand in mine and imaging how his deft little fingers would look entwined with my own slender ones.
“Well I'm glad it went well for you.” Blaine flexes his fingers, dropping the knotted blade back to the earth. I blush, worried he caught me starring. But, with the sunglasses on, I can't be sure where exactly he is looking. I can only see myself reflected back in them. And, good lord, my hair is in a state. “I'll let Wes and Quinn know their bending of the rules were not in vain. But, I must say, you missed one helluva cartooning class today.” Blaine launches into an animated spiel about tutorials on drawing Looney Toons characters and storyboarding. And as much as I absolutely love passionate Blaine, I loathe gossiping Alfie and Marty just a bit more. I strain my ears to hear what is said when Marty turns around to call something through the screen door. They don't matter; listen to Blaine. My eyes pop back to him, ears rerouting their focus, for a fair few seconds before movement on the douche deck catches my eye. Sebastian. He has stepped outside seemingly just to lean cooly against the wood column supporting the roof. I can't tell if he is looking my way or not, but--
“Okay, Kurt,” Blaine tilts his body into my eyeline. He smiles, but it's dimmer than usual. ”what do you keep staring at over…” His words drift to silence when he turns to see the trio starring back at us. They all avert their gazes. “I noticed they've been kind of giving you the cold shoulder.” Blaine confesses, lowering his gaze.
“No,” Pfft. “Nah, not really. It's fine.” I'm acutely aware that my voice has raised to Disney woodland creature high. Clearing my throat I aim for normal Kurt but overshoot it. “Everything is fine.” I say in the closest my voice can get to Batman.
Blaine sighs, removing his sunglasses. “Kurt, if they're giving you a hard time I'd be happy to--”
“I can fight my own battles, Blaine. Thank you.” I rush to cut him off, because delicate counselor Blaine is back. I can feel him shutting me out again. I was in; we were chatting, being friendly. I don't want to go back to being the baby of team blue. Not again.
He yanks up another blade, this one a little dried out and yellowed from the unforgiving sun. “You're welcome?”
Good move, Kurt. Now he will be your friend for life. “I'm sorry. Sorry.” I mentally slap myself. “I just don't want to talk about them at all really. What happened in cartooning class? I'll listen this time.”
I can tell Blaine isn't ready to let it go. But, I think he understands how dogmatically I do. So, he forges on, regaling what a great time I could've had today had I just stuck with him.


“Good afternoon, ladies, and welcome to Camp Brotherhood.” Wes and David have situated themselves in the midst of the first co-ed huddle of the summer. We have already situated ourselves into co-ed cabin colors. Today that was an extra easy feat. Everyone has on a bandana of their team's color. We are also all dressed in solid color shirts, socks and gloves, one for each cabin. All of this provided by our wonderful leaders, Wes and Quinn Fabray, who stands ever so enthusiastically beside Wes and David. I'm just glad she is a part of the red team so I don't have to work with her. “I'm pleased to see you all dressed up for the occasion.” There is a chuckle that resounds between the groups. “Your wardrobe is actually quite crucial to today's game. Which, Miss. Fabray, would you please explain to us?”
She turns to him with a smile, “Today we will be playing Rubiks Cube.” As she details the rules of the game, I decide to tune her out. Blaine already briefed the cabin while we were dressing for the game. Basically, we have to go around to other people, swapping clothing items until our entire cabin is wearing all blue. It seems kind of boring to me. But, I guess, people here have a rare breed of enthusiasm that tends to liven things up.
Instead of clueing into Quinn's words, my eyes seek out Sebastian. He is surrounded by his fellow green cabin, currently attempting to, what looks like, fend off the advances of a sisterhood green member. Not far from him, probably a happy accident that was carefully calculated by Bas, is Adam, who is preoccupied with retying the bandana around his forehead. I peep Mercedes amongst the throng of yellow team members. She gives me a little wave, which I return quickly.
Then I take the time to observe my team members. Jeff is making faces at Nick across the swarm of people. Eli, after looking mildly disgusted by Jeff's display of love and happiness, just looks rather disinterested. Trent is actively avoiding me, so I have opted to do the same to him. George and Asher, the two sophomores of the cabin, whom are usually out scheming together, are working fast to charm their female classmates. Owen, it seems, is already dating one of our team mates from our sister cabin. He has his hands entwined with a girl with braided brown hair and freckles. Rachel, who appears to be the leader of the blue girls, has stationed herself beside Blaine, doing her damndest to look in charge. The other girls seem more or less, mostly less, interested in us. Although Blaine is granted some lingering glances. Especially when he raises his arms above his head to gather our attention after Wes and Quinn turn us all loose to strategize for the game.
“Greetings, team blue. For those of you lovely ladies who I have not yet had the joy of meeting, I am Blaine.” Blaine the Disney Prince, successfully charming the pants off of the entire team. “I lead these young gents.”
“And I'm Rachel Berry.” She pipes up. I would call her the short girl, but next to Blaine they both look about average. Actually, they sort of look like siblings. I won't tell him that though. “I don't usually lead this cabin. But, unfortunately Suzy has unexpectedly come down with a serious case of food poisoning.” Okay, I am not the only one that totally thinks Rachel poisoned her, right? “So, I offered my services until she can make a full recovery.” Yeah, bitch definitely killed Suzy.
“Right, so,” Blaine claps his hands, rubbing them together. “Strategizing. I'm thinking we split up. Three groups of four. One of three.”
“That's a genius idea, Blaine.” Rachel, again, pipes up. I don't think there is any other word to describe how she talks.
“Alrighty then.” Blaine either has a very trained poker face or he is not phased in the least by Rachel's attitude. I, however, find her extremely grating. “Owen, I presume you will be teaming up with Madison.” The happy couple raise their entwined hands as a confirmation. “Trent and-- I'm sorry, darlin', what's your name?”
The addressed girl, a short asian, blushes profusely at the high concentration of Blaine Anderson charm being directed her way. “T-T-Tina.” she stutters out.
“I'm Blaine.” He extends a hand to the girl. With a slight tremor on her part, which I both totally empathize and patronize, she accepts his firm hand shake. “Nice to meet you, Tina. Would you be alright with joining this fine gentleman,” he speaks in regards to Trent. “In assuring that those two don't start fucking like rabbits in a bush somewhere? Pardon my French.” Tina smiles and nods. “George and Asher,” Blaine sighs, “I'm gonna trust you two together. Please don't make me regret that.” The two boys fist bump. “Rachel, who are your two most responsible girls?”
“Marley and Jane.” Rachel pipes up without even a moment of consideration.
“Brilliant. Girls, good luck with those two. They're kind of like seven handfuls. Actually…” Blaine nibbles on his lip, head cocked like a dog's, as he looks between Jeff, Eli and myself. I swear, if he puts me with Eli… “Nah, nevermind. Jeff, you go with Eli.” Both of them groan when I breathe a sigh of relief. “Ah, come on. It'll be good for you guys. Rachel, who we got left from your side?”
“Kitty. Bree.” This time it isn't a pipe. She bites out the names.
The blonde one of the two swishes her ponytail. It's almost identical to Quinn's but with a clearly well crafted, curl to it. “I'm honestly shocked I wasn't picked for Most Responsible, Miss. Berry.” I think that girl better not accept any future food offers from Rachel.
Poor Jeff gets saddled with the three most miffed people I have ever seen. I, on the other hand, am lumped into the trio with Blaine and Rachel, who has now evolved to the competitive ‘I totally killed Suzy for her position of power' voice. “Oo, this is going to be great, you guys. We are so going to win this!”


Except, we are so not winning this. So far, Rachel and I have only managed to exchange one sock each. Blaine is only a fraction more successful. He has a blue left sock and shorts. Rachel and I peeked during the latter, both more than a little flustered by his gloriously round bum. Rachel has actually been making little heart eyes at Blaine and I am not pleased. Like, seriously Rachel, he has a girlfriend. How dare you pine after a taken man. I watch her clinging to his arm to, as she claims, give him support because ‘he is injured you know, Kurt.' Yes, I do know, Rachel. Who do you think did it? I try to ignore the slight twitch under my eye.
This game has proven to be outrageously not fun. It has involved a lot of speed walking, and occasionally jogging, to keep up with Blaine, who is very spritely for someone who just a couple of days ago couldn't walk without crutches, and Rachel who is trained to his heel. It becomes even less fun when we cross paths with a small group of Nick's cabin. Blaine so beautifully exchanges shirts with Adam. Unfortunately, it is a beauty that I practically miss in it's entirety because I am too distracted in trying cloak myself behind Rachel's unimpressive stature. Because, and please kill me after I say this, Sebastian is like right there. Once Blaine is redressed, our packs begin to diverge on our separate ways. Again, I try to hide behind two significantly shorter bodies as I go for my clean escape.
“Kurt!” Before I can flee, he makes it clear that I have been spotted. I stop to look at him. Then I wage a glance to see if my posse remains. Unfortunately they have unwittingly abandoned me to ultimate doom. I can hear the fading voice of Rachel railing off what little she knows about comic books. “Come here.”
I kick a rock towards him, but don't allow myself to gravitate any closer. “So I can feel like shit again? No thanks.” I turn my back to him, following after Blaine and Rachel. Two words make me stop in my tracks.
“I'm sorry.” Can I get that in writing? “Marty and Alfie kinda gang-”
I cut off his bullshit at the source. “I don't care about you apologizing for other people. You know the only person I care about you being sorry for is yourself.”
“And I am. I was a dick that day.” Ah, finally something we can agree on. “I don't know. Maybe it was the drinks. Maybe I'm just a shitty friend.” He scratches the nape of his neck, toeing the rock back towards me. “It just seemed like you weren't really having that much fun. I was just trying to include you, I swear. And I'm sorry I got carried away with that.”
“I accept your apology.” I am about to relax into our friendship again. I almost give up the distance between us to walk to him. But, first I just need to ask “is this a fake out apology where it isn't actually okay?”
Sebastian shakes his head readily. It leaves his bandana a little off center. “No, I mean it this time.”
“I do, too.” I nod and offer him a smile to know everything is okay on my end.
He smiles back. This time we both relax back into our friendship. “Okay, but what is this thing with you and Blaine?” And we pick up right where we left off.
“Ahh, I don't know!” I glance around quickly, even though I'm pretty sure if I can't hear Rachel then they're well out of earshot. “It's like red light, green light with him. Sometimes he's all ‘pfft, I love my girlfriend. I'm straight pfft. Pfft.' Ya know? Then a second later he's all cute and cuddly and really flirty. At least I think it's flirty. Ugh, I can't tell!”
“Okay, clearly you need me. Two reasons why: That Blaine impression was terrible.” With a laugh, he places a hand on my shoulder. “Like god awful.”
“I thought it was kinda good.” I shrug.
He hums, clearly unconvinced. “You really need me. And reason two, Kurt, he is so flirting with you.”
“Really?” I can feel that little tinge of hope bristling low in my gut. But, I'm quick to squash it.
“I saw him spray you with whipped cream during the ice cream challenge. And then he licked some off of you.” My eyes almost roll back into my head at the memory. Blaine's warm tongue gently collecting the sugary substance from my shoulder as if it was nothing. I had to grip the edge of the table for like five minutes to stop shaking and get my breathing back to actually happening. “Kurt, please. I know you are not that naive.”
“Oh. My. God.” Sebastian and I both nearly shit ourselves at the sound of Rachel's crooning. “Kurt! There you are!”
“You found him?” Blaine's voice emerges before he does, from a thicket of trees. A leaf has stowed away in his hair that leaves my hand itching to pluck it out.
“We thought you were following us and then we turned around and you were gone! We were so worried!” Wow, okay, Rachel chill. I'm not y'alls son lost in IKEA.
“I told her you were fine.” Rachel smiles and nods, doing the leaf plucking all on her own. And now my eye twitch is back. “You're tough! You're Potter! Hey Sebastian.” Upon noting our company, Blaine looks back to me, seemingly gauging my current mood. I smile to let him, too, know it's all okay.
Seb greets Blaine and Rachel with a hello. “I really should get back to my team.” He explains. “I was just gonna, uhm, Kurt, your sock?”
I stare down at our feet. He has a blue sock on. “Oh, yes, good thinking.”
We both hunch over, wobbling on one leg, as we remove our footwear. “Some of the guys are still a little upset.” I hear Bas whisper to me. “I didn't exactly talk you up when I was mad.”
“Can we agree to keep our future fights a ‘whom it may concern' thing, i.e. just us?” I whisper back, passing off my sock. It's purple, not green, but if he's willing to take it off my hands then who am I to complain?
He nods, handing over his blue sock. “Of course, I'm sorry. I'll talk to them tonight. I miss hanging out with you.” He tugs back on his shoe, about to return to upright. First, he adds “don't look now but, Anderson is totally checking out your ass and I think that peppy chic is checking out mine.” Standing, he gives me a quick pat on the butt before addressing Blaine and Rachel. “Good luck to you, Blue Teams.”
“Thank you. Tell Nick we're gonna kick his ass!” Blaine shouts as Bas hustles into the woods in the direction his team had gone.


We fall back into a similar pattern as before I had gotten lost. Blaine leads. I struggle to keep up. Rachel gabs incessantly.
“Kitty and Bree are always at each other's necks. I think it's because they're too alike.” She admits. Despite the fact that we do not care one bit. At least Blaine is better than me at faking it though.
“Jeff and Eli aren't the best of buds either.” He stops to think about that for a second, Rachel walking into his back because she is just so damn close to him. “I don't think it's for the same reason, though.” Just when I've just about caught up to them, Blaine forges on. I think faster this time.
And Rachel gabs on. I think louder this time.“Let's just hope the four of them can-
“Wait! Shh…” And for once, like some gift from the heavens, Rachel snaps her mouth shut, awaiting further command from Blaine Anderson, her apparent lord and savior. “Stay here.” Slowly, Blaine begins to stalk away from us.
Beside me, I hear Rachel gasp in a breath. She even makes noise in preparation to make noise. “Do you think he's spotted a spider web or something? Maybe a rare bird?”
“Sh.”
As aggravating as she is, Rachel does have an excellent question. I mean, the specifics of what she's asking are dumb. But we can't help but wonder what the hell he is doing. Until I see it, too. There's a gaggle of red bandanas wrapped around heads of flowing hair and one high ponytail.
Blaine slips his hands over Quinn's eyes, whispering into her ear. Rachel and I are left to only guess, imagine, what he had said. It was probably just ‘guess who.' But, I can imagine it was more along the lines of ‘I'm leaving you for Kurt Hummel.' Maybe one day.
Quinn turns in his arms, grinning. “Hi boyfriend.”
He has a name, bitch.
Neither Rachel nor I realize we have moved until we are closer. Well in earshot to hear Blaine joke “how'd you know it wasn't your other boyfriend?”
“Which one?” Quinn flirtatiously retorts. She doesn't deserve him.
“Ha ha. C'mere.” Blaine tugs her closer by the hips to capture her in a kiss. Next to me Rachel clears her throat. Not that it was necessary.
After only a moment, Quinn draws back on her own accord. “Blaine, I thought you were over this.”
“Over kissing my girlfriend?” He cheekily asks.
“Over this beard phase!” Ah, Quinn Fabray, if only you were just a beard phase.
With an exasperate groan, Blaine releases his grasp on beard hating Barbie. “Oh my god, Quinn, okay. A. I wasn't over it. Having a beard isn't a phase that you can just pout about and I'll move on. And B. Obviously I shaved it off.” He runs his hands over his chin then pettily adds, “For you.”
“If it's so obviously gone, then what do you call this?” This time it's her turn to caress his not so clean shaven jawline. When is it my turn?
“Stubble. An incredibly small amount of stubble. I forgot to shave for, like, a day. What's the big deal?”
She crosses her arms and huffs. “I don't like it.”
“Quinn,” Blaine's hands have found a way to his hips. There is just this certain posture about him that just makes it so clear how much he is not having this. “What if I said I don't like your high ponytails. How would you feel?”
“Peachy.” For added emphasis, she tears her hair free of the elastic band, throwing it at Blaine's chest. She shakes the blonde mane free, which to me is a little extra, letting strands fall wild onto her face. “Happy?”
“No, you're missing the point! Your body and your entity is all yours. You can do whatever you want with it, despite what makes me happy, so long as it's what you, and only you, want to do. I, with my body and entity and fucking beard, should have that same freedom, okay?” He bends down to collect her scrunchie, which had landed at his feet. “You gotta be less controlling. You just gotta.” And by the time he stands back up right and looks at her, it's too late for him to eat his words. But, boy does he want to. Because Blaine Anderson just made a girl, his girl- the girl- cry in front of her entire cabin.
“Screw you, Blaine Anderson.”