CHAPTER 14

The next two weeks are dominated by junior prom preparations and campaigning. Quinn is all excited about it while Kurt is stoically playing his role by her side. He doesn’t much care for the title, but he knows it’s part of the image. So they spend almost all of their time at school together, and they must seem closer than ever, because Kurt hears gossip about them finally having sex or maybe exchanging promises or something big.

It turns out the Glee club is providing music for the prom, so most rehearsals focus on these performances for the time being. Kurt has no intention to perform, so he has some more free time in the afternoons. Or he could have it, if not for the schedule of double practices Coach Sylvester decided were in order in preparation for their National Cheerleading competition. So between the two of them, Kurt and Blaine don’t really have much time for their usual study sessions.

Not that it stops them from trying. But when Kurt dozes off over his books for the second time in a week, exhausted after hours of strenuous practice, it’s pretty clear homework is not a good excuse for them to meet right now.

Although they don’t really need an excuse anymore. After that night and admitting that they both consider each other to be best friends, it’s much easier to pick up the phone to chat about anything without feigning a reason. So the next time Kurt wants to see Blaine after school, he just calls him to ask if they can meet at a coffee house on the outskirts of Lima.

It’s only after Blaine accepts, surprise in his voice, that Kurt realizes that it’s the first time he offered to meet him anywhere in public. True, the coffee shop is not really frequented by students from their school (who prefer the more trendy Lima Bean), but there’s still a chance that they’ll be seen together by someone they know.

And Kurt doesn’t care.

Which is new and liberating. He’s let others choose the direction in his life for way too long. If he wants to be friends with Blaine or anyone else, he will. He’s probably popular enough to swing it without a lot of repercussions anyway, especially now that the new rules are being enforced.

As promised, Blaine doesn’t touch the topic of Quinn anymore, or any other choices Kurt makes, for that matter. Their conversation is easy and flowing again, fueled by caffeine and the exhilaration of meeting outside their homes. Until Kurt asks,

“So what are you wearing to prom?”

Blaine’s smile melts off his face and he shrugs. “Just a simple suit, black and discreet. But I’m only going for an hour, to sing my parts. Then I’m off.”

Kurt looks at him incredulously. “But Blaine, it’s prom. The social event of the season! You can’t skip it!”

“Yes, I can. I’m not exactly a fan of school dances, remember?” Kurt bites his lip. Damn, right, Sadie Hawkins. Blaine continues. “Besides, I have no one to go with anyway, even if I wanted to, and going stag is just sad.”

“But Blaine, I bet there are plenty of girls who’d love to –“

“Kurt. Girls. I don’t want to go with a girl.”

“Oh.”

“Right. Oh.” A ghost of a smile flickers on Blaine’s lips. “So I’m only coming to perform. It’s just before the king and queen are announced, too – I’ll be able to see you get coronated before I go. And don’t worry on my account. I’m fine with it. As I said – not exactly comfortable with school dances.”

The gym is full of colorful balloons and even more colorful dresses in all shapes and sizes that Kurt can’t help but judge silently. At least half of the girls should never wear the colors or cuts they’ve chosen. Quinn looks perfect, of course, thanks to her own sense of style, aided a little by his discreet hint or two. Of course, Kurt himself looks impeccable. A little too classic for his liking, perhaps, he could do much better than this, and most definitely more original, but Kurt the Cheerleader wouldn’t wear anything extravagant. As he was putting on the simple black tux in front of his full-length mirror earlier, he kept telling himself that one day he’ll be free to wear whatever he wants – one beautiful day when he’s in college, far away from Ohio, out and proud and free to be who he is. But not yet. Not here.

From the moment the prom begins, Kurt’s eyes are searching for the familiar compact form and dark curls in the mass of students. All evening Kurt dances, mostly with Quinn, and they talk and socialize like good nominees should, but he’s on the lookout all the time. He’s not even sure when Blaine’s part of the performance begins – they avoided the topic after the talk in the coffee house. And then – there he is, just a few feet from them as Kurt leads Quinn to their table, his arm wound protectively around her waist in the crowd. Blue eyes meet amber and Kurt sees the way Blaine’s face falls for a second. It looks like tentative hope, gone in an instant. He can’t go and talk to him, not without looking rude, and by the time he manages to excuse himself for a moment, Blaine’s nowhere to be seen.

For the next fifteen minutes Kurt catches glimpses of him every now and then, either alone or with people from the Glee club. And then Blaine whirls onto the scene and kills the audience with I’m Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How to Dance With You, his voice strong and amazing and his moves shamefully erotic at times. 

Kurt winces at the irony of the song – here, now, coming from Blaine’s lips, it reminds him painfully about their argument. And he can barely keep himself from staring; Blaine looks good. In a simple, perfectly fitted tux, his hair slicked back and his glasses substituted by contacts for the night, he’s a picture of understated elegance. Ladies should be fainting at his feet – if they didn’t know he was gay, of course. Men should be swarming around him, begging for a date or at least a dance – if they weren’t in a mostly homophobic high school in Lima, Ohio.

Well, Kurt would gladly go over and beg for a dance. And a date.

Wait, what?

Momentarily breathless, heart beating erratically, Kurt has to go sit down for a minute, drink some punch, leaving Quinn to dance with Sam, a blond jock from Glee.

Where did that come from? Why does it feel so right?

Blaine sings a few more songs, some solo, some with others, and Kurt tries to focus on Quinn, he really does. But every time he looks at the stage – every time he hears the voice that feels like velvet and silk against his skin – there’s this little jolt in his chest, as if his heart was trying to jump out of his ribcage. His insides feel funny, too. Is this what they mean when they talk about butterflies in your stomach? He’d never understood it, but now… what’s going on with him?

And then Blaine leaves the stage, and Principal Figgins summons all the candidates, and Kurt finally has a distraction from the frightening, exhilarating chaos in his head and his heart.

They win, of course. Quinn is beaming, the plastic crown shimmering on her head. But standing on the stage, being coronated as prom king, Kurt can only focus on Blaine’s back disappearing behind the gym door, just a bit too early to hear Quinn’s words.

“I want to thank you, all of you – everyone who believed in us and voted for us; most of all, I want to thank my boyfriend for supporting me these last two weeks.” Kurt can feel everyone’s eyes on him and it’s a funny feeling, knowing that a bomb is about to drop before anyone else is aware. Quinn glances at him once as she pauses, and he smiles: here goes. She looks away and at the blond football player standing in front of the stage. “Sam, thank you.”

There’s a murmur first, a flood of whispered conversations growing, filling the overheated air as Quinn stands on stage, her eyes locked with Sam Evans’, and Kurt holds his head high, keeps his face neutral, smiling slightly, firmly settled in his role of the ex-boyfriend. Oh, this will be grand; the gossip of the year.

Just the way they want it.

* 

That evening at Quinn’s, two weeks ago, they talked, long and honest, and it turned out Kurt was not the only one keeping secrets, at least lately.

“I thought you might be. It’s okay, Kurt.” He heard when the two words, so small for something so huge, were out in the open. His world shook a little. So what, that’s it? He tells her he’s gay and she just smiles and accepts it? No drama?

And it wasn’t the end of surprises. Quinn barely let him catch his breath before she took his hand and said. “I think I’m in love, Kurt. With Sam. And… I think I want to try giving myself a chance to date him. Would you be okay with this? With us breaking up?”

He was perfectly okay with it, obviously. So they talked, and planned, and plotted. They decided to keep their breakup quiet until prom, especially since they had their campaign to think of anyway. Quinn would date Sam in secret, and Kurt would still keep appearances at school for the time being, but they’d no longer kiss or make out. It all sounded cold and calculated, like a business transaction. Well, it had been all along, in a way.

But before Kurt turned away to go home that evening, they hugged for a long while. When they pulled back, they were both a little teary-eyed.

“Thank you, Quinn. For everything I got from you.” He knew his voice shook, and he didn’t care. It was an end of an era. It deserved to be grieved.

“You gave me just as much.” She answered softly. “So thank you.”

She kissed him sweetly one last time, and that was it. He was single.

*

They dance once as king and queen, and then Quinn is off with Sam. Kurt spends the rest of the evening sitting at the table, saying again and again that he’s fine, they parted as friends, and no, he doesn’t need to be comforted, and he definitely doesn’t want a new girlfriend. He’s done with girls for now. And “yeah, who knows, maybe he should try it with boys. Good one, Santana”.

When the prom finally ends, Kurt dodges all different party invitations (a few of which are clearly of the one-on-one variety) and goes straight to his car. As soon as he closes the door behind him, he exhales deeply, letting go of the façade he kept all evening, picks up his phone and dials Blaine’s number with trembling fingers.

The signal steady in his ear, Kurt waits. And waits; up until Blaine’s recorded Hi, I can’t pick up the phone, leave a message. He disconnects and tries again a minute later; the result the same. It surely doesn’t mean anything though – Blaine must be in the shower, or somewhere out of his room. Or maybe his phone is on silent mode; maybe he’s asleep. Before Kurt can try again though, his phone buzzes with an incoming text.

.–O-O–.: Kurt, I need some time. Please don’t call, I’m switching my phone off. Have a fun night. B.

Phone still in his hand, Kurt sinks down in the driver’s seat. Blaine thinks he’s with Quinn right now, doing what she wanted to do after prom, doesn’t he? And he seems hurt. Why would he feel hurt? Unless… does he – is this even possible –

Kurt tries to call once more anyway, but it goes straight to voicemail – Blaine really did switch off his phone, just as he said he would. He could send a text, so that Blaine gets it whenever he turns it back on, but somehow it doesn’t seem the right way to tell him about the recent developments; it’s too one-sided. Kurt hoped Blaine would be there to see it himself; wanted to spend the rest of the evening after the coronation with him, maybe sneaking out to drive for coffee instead. He could use his friend’s support tonight.

But before he can think about any of that, there are other things he has planned for tonight. Important things. Turning his thoughts away from Blaine and towards what he’s about to do, Kurt takes a deep breath, straightens up in the seat, his chin held high, and drives home.