Dec. 17, 2012, 3:30 p.m.
Etched Into My Skin: Chapter 26
E - Words: 3,172 - Last Updated: Dec 17, 2012 Story: Closed - Chapters: 29/? - Created: Dec 10, 2012 - Updated: Dec 17, 2012 165 0 0 0 0
CHAPTER 26
Kurt hadn’t really expected to win the election. He wouldn’t admit it, but after everything that had gone wrong in the last weeks, he’d been quietly resigned for this to be no different. And yet, here he was, following Figgins to his office in the middle of Glee. If that didn’t mean he’d won and they wanted to tell him in person, he didn’t know what else it could be.
But as soon as they entered the office, Kurt’s heart in an excited gallop and the corners of his mouth tugging up despite his efforts to look calm and collected, he knew he was wrong. They wouldn’t summon his father to school just to congratulate him. There had to be some kind of a problem, and though Kurt had no idea what it could be, the serious looks on Figgins’ and Coach Beiste’s faces couldn’t mean anything good.
And then they told him, and that brief moment of expectation, that short flight on wings of hope, made the crash landing all the more devastating.
Cheating.
As if he would do something like that. Okay, yes, he may have fleetingly entertained the thought, but he wouldn’t.
He didn’t do it.
But then, someone had stuffed the boxes, making Kurt win by a wide margin, and Kurt for the life of him couldn’t think of a person who would do that. Was it a misguided, but well-meaning attempt by an unknown supporter, perhaps someone who counted on Kurt’s anti-bullying message to take hold? Or was it yet another prank designed to discredit and ridicule him, to knock him down a notch or two?
Well, if that was the plan, they had certainly succeeded. A potential suspension on his permanent record was the last thing Kurt needed while trying to get into a prestigious performing arts school when he didn’t have many achievements to show anyway.
Glee was over by the time Kurt left the Principal’s office, but Blaine wasn’t waiting for him outside the door yet, so Kurt started towards the choir room. He felt numb.
“Kurt, what happened?” Finn’s concerned voice made him look up from the floor. His brother was standing by his locker. Behind him, a few lockers away, Rachel paused with a book in her hand, listening.
Kurt told them. They would know soon, anyway. But the words were sticking in his throat, choking, and keeping his composure for more than a moment longer would not be an option. He had to find Blaine.
Not waiting for their reactions, Kurt hurried on, past Rachel who stood frozen, staring at him with her mouth open. He couldn’t talk to her now, not when all she would probably care about was his ever-diminishing chance of going to New York with her.
Blaine was just running down the next hallway when Kurt rounded the corner, and he grabbed Kurt’s hand immediately and pulled him into the nearest bathroom, closing the door behind them. As soon as they were alone, he pulled Kurt into his arms, his face worried.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Schue held me back. What happened?” he asked urgently, voice tense and eyes roving over every inch of Kurt’s face as if looking for damage. “Why do I feel like you’re heartbroken? What did Figgins say?” When Kurt didn’t answer immediately, choked by all the emotions that only just started to catch up with him properly, Blaine’s arms tightened around him. “Kurt? Talk to me,” he pleaded.
“They think I stuffed the ballot box. To win,” Kurt forced out through his clenched throat, and the injustice of it made his eyes sting. He deserved to win. He knew he did, his program was the only one that made any sense, it could help people. Now he wouldn’t even know how many students actually voted for him. For all he knew, he might have won fair and square, but there was no way to tell now.
“What?” Blaine stared at him. “That’s crazy. You would never do such a thing!” The rightful indignation is his voice made Kurt feel a little bit better. Finally someone who didn’t doubt him, not even for a second.
“Of course I wouldn’t. But apparently someone did. They have more votes than people in the senior class.”
“Do you have any idea who it could have been?”
“None.” Kurt shrugged. “And even if I found out, I have no way to prove it.” He paused, then added quietly, “I may get suspended.”
“You what?” Blaine’s eyes grew wide.
“They said if they find any proof I did it, I’ll get suspended, and it will go on my permanent record.” Kurt laughed mirthlessly. “Looks like I don’t need to worry about leaving you for New York next year, after all. Problem solved.”
“What? No,” Blaine said firmly. “No way. I won’t let you give up without a fight.”
“There’s no use to even send the application now, Blaine.” Kurt shook his head.
“Yes there is. You’re going to send it, and then you’re going to audition and dazzle everyone. I have no doubt about it.”
“Blaine–”
“No. No arguments. You’ve never let other people tell you what you could or couldn’t do, and now you want to start?”
“Blaine, that’s different,” Kurt tried, but Blaine just held him tighter and leaned in until their foreheads touched.
“It’s really not. You know you didn’t cheat. I know it. I’m sure no one in Glee club will believe it either when they hear. Don’t let whoever did this defeat you. You’re going to apply to NYADA, and you will get in. And I’ll be your insanely proud boyfriend–”
“And soulmate.”
“And soulmate, visiting you in New York every chance I get and looking forward to joining you there permanently. And then we will live happily and fabulously ever after.”
Kurt laughed wetly and closed the last couple of inches between them to kiss his crazy, wonderful boyfriend.
“I love you, you know,” he whispered against Blaine’s lips once they broke apart.
“I love you too. So much.”
*
In spite of Blaine cheering him up for a bit, Kurt’s mood was grim for the rest of the day. He went to bed early, only to spend hours tossing and turning, unable to stop wondering about who did this and why, and how it would affect his future. When he finally fell asleep, he dreamed of New York. The city was right in front of him, almost within reach, but every time Kurt made a step towards it, it moved away a little more, until it was just a shimmering mirage on the horizon.
He woke up with a headache, in a terrible mood that only got worse when he caught Finn looking at him funny over breakfast. School was a disaster. Everybody kept staring at Kurt as he passed, people whispering to one another, not even waiting until his back was turned. The word had clearly slipped out. Everybody knew.
And Kurt had no doubt they all believed that he’d done it, that he’d been so desperate to become the senior class president that he’d cheated. No matter if the Principal found any proof it was him – and there was no proof to be found because it wasn’t him, but Kurt had learned long ago it was not the truth that really mattered – in this school’s memory he would always remain the gay boy who dressed weirdly, sang like a girl, and cheated in election. Great.
The day felt like a neverending string of torture, but he plowed on because there was nothing else he could do. He congratulated his father when his election results came in. He finished up and sent the NYADA application, and another one to the local community college, just in case. He went to Glee, even though he just wanted to go home to bed instead. He kept a smile on his face, and congratulated Brittany, because she did win, after all, and he would not be a sore loser.
It was almost over when Rachel came in, her face tear-streaked, and confessed she was the one who stuffed the box. And Kurt lost it.
He didn’t say a word, though no one noticed it in the chaos that erupted when Rachel admitted she wasn’t allowed to sing at Sectionals, but inside, the rage burned hot and bright – so much so that Blaine stared at him with wide, worried eyes.
Who’d asked Rachel to interfere? Why did she always have to butt in and ruin everything? She had the admission in her pocket, with all of her extracurriculars and her solos and her leads to add to her talent, so why did she have to ruin Kurt’s chance, and his reputation while at it? She wasn’t dumb, how could she think no one would count the overall votes? Yes, she confessed; yes, he was in the clear – and fat lot of good it did him.
Kurt sat tight-lipped till the end of Glee and then hurried out of the choir room before anyone could attempt to talk to him, Rachel’s calls chasing him until he was a hallway away. He didn’t stop. Not until he was safely in his car, alone with his anger, speeding faster than he should but unable to lift his foot from the accelerator. He just wanted to be home.
The house was empty when he let himself in, so no one cared if he slammed the door to his room too hard. Not that it helped. Not really.
The text came five minutes later, after Kurt had thrown himself onto his bed and hid his face in his folded arms.
I’m in your driveway, Blaine wrote.
Kurt groaned. He didn’t feel like company right now, not even Blaine’s. He needed time alone to process it all and find a way to turn his anger into something less destructive, and he couldn’t do that around other people. But Blaine was worried about him, he knew. He shouldn’t push him away.
Before he could tap out a reply, however, another message from Blaine came up.
You want to be alone, don’t you? That’s okay. Just call me when you feel better?
I will. Thank you <3, Kurt replied and hoped their empathic connection let Blaine feel how very, very much he meant it.
*
“You know, she really thought she was helping,” Finn said that evening over dessert. They were at Breadstix, enjoying a nice family dinner to celebrate his father’s victory. “Rachel, I mean,” Finn added. His face was hesitant; Rachel’s name sounded stilted on his lips, careful.
They had told their parents about Rachel’s involvement over the main course, and Kurt managed not to scream or do anything else that would ruin the mood. He felt better now. Not fine yet, but he was getting there. He wouldn’t let her ruin anything else.
“And how would you know?” he asked. It came out snappy despite his best effort. Okay, so maybe he was still angry.
“I… she talked to me,” Finn admitted, hiding behind his glass of Coke. “Yesterday, after she heard you could be suspended. She… she had no one else to talk to, so she came over to me, and just… We used to be close, you know? She told me it was her, and that she just wanted to help you win. So that you had better chance at NYADA.”
“Yeah, some help that was,” Kurt said bitterly. “What did you tell her?”
“I convinced her she had to go to Figgins and explain.”
The cheesecake suddenly tasted like cardboard. Kurt pushed away his plate.
“Oh. So the confession wasn’t even her idea.”
Finn shifted uncomfortably. “Well… she was afraid she’d get suspended, so–”
Kurt snorted. That was so typical. “Right. Can we change the subject?”
*
When Kurt picked up his phone to call Blaine that night, he had twelve unanswered calls and five text messages from Rachel. He deleted them all without looking.
*
Blaine was relieved to see Kurt calmer the next morning. He looked exhausted, but he held his head high and took Blaine’s hand as soon as they met in the parking lot twenty minutes before classes. That was definitely an improvement over the fragile, carefully held together façade Blaine had seen since that conversation in the principal’s office.
Last night, they had talked on the phone until well after 2 a.m. Well, mostly Kurt talked, about everything, words spilling out of him like a free-flowing river once a dam was removed. He spoke of the betrayal and anger at Rachel, no matter what her intentions had been, of the hopelessness he felt about his prospects of being accepted to NYADA now, and how much it hurt after he’d let himself believe, for a moment, that he had a chance. He told Blaine about his guilt that he wasn’t able to feel fully, honestly happy for his father’s victory right now, even though he felt immensely proud of him.
Blaine hadn’t spoken much – he knew Kurt didn’t need him to; he just needed to get it all out. So Blaine had listened and hummed his comfort and encouragement when needed, for hours, right until he’d fallen asleep on the phone, Kurt’s soft voice in his ear spinning beautiful tales of the two of them in New York two years from now, together in a shoebox apartment somewhere, happy with their love and their dreams, and the future wide open.
He felt a little ashamed about dozing off now. He knew Kurt didn’t mind, but still, it felt like he should have been there for his boyfriend as long as he was needed, and instead he’d given in to something as prosaic as sleepiness. But he was here now and he intended to be the best, most attentive boyfriend imaginable.
His efforts were somewhat sidetracked as soon as they entered the school, though.
It was still early, but there was a little crowd gathering around the nearest bank of lockers, people staring curiously at the scene unfolding before their eyes. Kurt stopped in his tracks when they passed the onlookers blocking the view.
In front of her open locker stood Mercedes, looking gorgeous in a black short-sleeved dress with her hair flowing freely down her back. She had a look of utter bewilderment on her face. At her feet, with a bouquet of red roses, knelt Sam Evans. It was the first time Blaine had seen him since his rather abrupt move to another state with his family right before the school year started.
Sam spoke, loud and clear, his eyes focused on Mercedes.
“I already knew we were meant for each other when we dated in the summer.” Blaine looked at Kurt. They had dated? It was news to him. Kurt shrugged, arching his eyebrows in surprise. “I know you didn’t want a long-distance relationship, and it broke my heart to leave you, even if I didn’t have a choice. But something happened last night, and I’m here to tell you that if you give me a chance, I’m gonna do everything in my power to make you happy. I’ll find a way to come back here, I’ll make it happen because–” Sam reached up and pushed away the left side of his half-unbuttoned shirt. Mercedes gasped and covered her mouth. On Sam’s chest, right over his heart, in large, flowing script, was her name.
“I know you believe in soulmates,” Sam said. “And I do, too. I never needed a mark to tell me you’re the one, but here it is, and when I saw it last night, I just had to jump in the car and come here.” Mercedes still hadn’t said a thing, clearly overwhelmed, and Sam seemed to falter, shifting awkwardly on his knees. “Of course, if you don’t want me to– Or if there’s someone else, or–”
Slowly, as if in a dream, Mercedes reached to the right sleeve of her dress and pulled it up.
Her mark was darker than any of theirs, nearly black, so that it stood out clearly against her skin. Sam Evans. Sam sprang to his feet and pulled her into a hug.
Within minutes, half of the Glee club surrounded them, talking, hugging, congratulating, and Blaine was swept into the excitement. He’d never been very close with Sam, but he was happy for both him and Mercedes. They couldn’t stop holding hands now, and Blaine remembered that first intoxicating rush of his body recognizing his soulmate, the touch that suddenly felt like it never had before. It still felt that way, it never lost its thrill, but he was used to it now. He couldn’t imagine how Sam would be able to go back to Kentucky this afternoon and leave his soulmate behind, unable to return for days, maybe weeks.
Although maybe he wouldn’t have to. Finn and Rachel were already planning away, together for once, plotting ways to get Sam back to McKinley. And as much as Blaine resented Rachel right now, he knew she would do anything for their Glee club.
*
He wasn’t sure how they managed to swing it, but a week later, Sam was back. He was living in the Hummels’ guest room for now, and got immediately involved in their Sectionals preparations. Not that Blaine minded. Everyone who could help them win was more than welcome, especially now that Rachel was off the team for the competition.
It felt a little weird not to be the leader though. Things were done a lot differently here than they had been at Dalton. There was a whole lot of chaos involved, and it required quite a bit of adjustment from Blaine. He kept biting his tongue to stop himself from forcing his expertise on them – he was the new guy, after all, even if he actually happened to be the most experienced Glee leader currently available – but it got done. It didn’t hurt that Finn was much more civil to him already. Together, they managed to whip their performance into a piece of art, fully deserving of the first place and standing ovation that they got at the end of the day.
Even the fact that Sebastian was in the audience along with a few other Warblers wasn’t able to ruin Blaine’s mood. He just ignored him. They’d won. They’d been fantastic, and Blaine felt intoxicated with it, full of bubbly, effervescent joy as they left the stage and piled into the green room. It felt amazing to be a part of this group on the cusp of something bigger, and the chaotic, giddy atmosphere, so different from the Warblers’ contained celebrations, was heady. He grabbed Kurt and twirled him around the room, unable to contain his happiness.
This was it. This was what he changed the schools for. This was where he belonged.