When Miss Rowe had told him that he was going to be scheduled with a free last period when he came to Dalton his first response was doubt. Well actually his first response was confusion with the unfamiliar terminology, but after a fair-length conversation on a basic chunk of school system jargon, there was doubt, lots of it. He of course didn't voice it to Miss Rowe, not having a fiber in his being that he felt had the authority to question her on such matters, but he couldn't help but be concerned about taking less classes than other students when he was already so far behind. A more unfriendly voice he generally tried and usually succeeded in suppressing reasoned that Miss Rowe didn't think he could handle it. That her kind words and confidence were lies she was obligated to provide when she truly thought he was hopeless.

The thought would never have occurred to Kurt less than five months ago: That when people praise you they can have ulterior motives. That people lie and use you. He still didn't understand it. But now he knew, and that was enough to sprout all the doubts he'd had since then.

He pushed those thoughts away. He trusted Miss Rowe. He had to, or else he felt his head might explode at times.
She'd been able to read the conflict in his face, despite his effort to hide it, when she told him about his schedule and was quickly able to deduce the problem, as always. She'd assured him that the adjustment was going to be difficult, but that the struggle had nothing to do with his character or aptitude. It was a big change and there was nothing to be done about it. He would need a break to process everything, and she wanted it to be at a time where there would be no distractions from other students. No other activities waiting.

She'd been right, Kurt realized as he lay on his bed. He couldn't completely shake the feeling that it had something to do with some shortcoming(s) on his part, but decided to focus on being grateful for her decision.

After all, he couldn't imagine being in another class right now and then going almost immediately to Warblers practice, to watch people sing and dance…to perform, while he would—not.

Kurt let out a heavy breath sitting up on his bed. My bed he thought; sure he'd had his own room ever since…before, but it still felt like so much: calling a whole room is own. It felt undeserved. But it was normal he reminded himself, most people have a room.

All the boys here were assigned a room. Of course, for pretty much everyone else it was two boys sharing a room while he was in a single. The fact doubled Kurt's sentiment that it was more than he deserved but again he would have to trust Miss Rowe's judgment, and truthfully he didn't know how he'd manage if he didn't. Sure he had shared sleeping quarters with far more than one person, but that was when everyone was in the same boat as him. That was before he had to constantly worry about being and acting "normal."

For far beyond the schoolwork, hard as it was for him to understand, what really wore him down was the constant strain to keep up the act and blend in. So at this moment, despite his worries, he couldn't regret having agreed to take a single.

Biology had been at least half totally incomprehensible to him, due to the fact that so much of it was terminology generally introduced, Kurt had been informed, through the middle school years, and then more dove into at this point. He and his private teacher had been working on flashcards but apparently Kurt hadn't picked up that much yet.

Due to his conversation with Blaine and Reed, the teacher pointed him to his seat when he went in and class started immediately. At the end of class boys rushed out again (Kurt sensed a pattern developing) so Kurt gathered up his thing and headed over to the dorms.

About a month ago Miss Rowe had brought him to walk around the grounds so he could get a feel for the general layout and he'd been studying the map since then. They'd also walked around again this morning, specifically the route from the academic building to the dorm. Then they'd gone up to his room and put his stuff, meaning a couple outfits, toiletries, some books, and a shoebox that rattled with a special few treasures, there. A whole life, all packed up in a trunk and two boxes.

Sure it had still taken Kurt a couple of wrong turns to get there, which he was sure he could have avoided if he's accepted Blaine's help, but it felt silly, having him walk across campus when he had class to show Kurt to a room in the exact same place as Kurt had left it that morning.

It was something else too though. He liked talking to Blaine, truly. But doing so also required keeping up the act. Pretending he understood words and phrases he didn't; after about the forth he'd started keeping a list, too embarrassed to keep asking what they meant.

Miss Rowe had given him a dictionary he'd decided he just look them up in it.

Rising he went over to one of the unpacked boxes and fished it out, taking it to his desk and taking out a piece of paper and a pencil hoping he might retain them if he wrote them down.

It was more than the words though. It was remembering the cover story and seemingly basic social graces. And Blaine seemed so genuinely interested and earnest to get to know him. Kurt was unaccustomed to such attention, well in that way. He didn't have answers to questions about what he liked to do or his favorite food or his favorite Disney movie or any of that. He didn't only think twice, but completely drew a blank to questions about hanging out or seeing a show or any of the other things Blaine had suggested as future activities.

While he didn't understand exactly how or why, it was clear to Kurt that Blaine wanted to make him feel welcome. It was also clear with each kind of non-committal noise Kurt offered in response that Blaine felt he had not succeeded and tried harder. And that was the core of it, he was trying so hard and Kurt didn't know how to say that it was enough, he may seem a little on edge, but that had nothing to do with not feeling welcome. It was just that…well it was complicated.

And soon he was going to go to Warblers practice with Blaine and Reed. He wasn't sure if he was ecstatic or terrified.

Both, he decided, always both. Some things never changed apparently, even when everything else did.

On one hand he was so excited to see people performing. Music was like breathing for him, it was the one thing that had always made sense. Something he'd been good at, something that comforted him.

But he'd been misled, and now he had to relearn how to use it. His crutch was his saving grace, Miss Rowe had said, but it'd been attached so much else he had to root out and free it from for it to truly be something good for him, "quite a difficult conflict," she'd surmised.

Though she explained it in all different ways and he was beginning to grasp logically why and how he needed to relearn how to use music, emotionally he just couldn't find a problem with how it had always been incorporated into his life, it was all he knew.

And that was what terrified him: That he wouldn't relearn, that he couldn't; that music would never be able to be as a big of a part of his life again as it was before. And in the meantime, all though he'd understood Miss Rowe saying he didn't need to give up music altogether, just keep itself for a while, the thought brought a sadness to him of uncommon magnitude.

So while he was excited to experience music again, he didn't know how he'd stand up watching from the metaphorical crowd. He'd never been contained to that side. And if they asked him, god if they asked him! He knew it would be friendly and non-demanding, logically he knew that, but for all the therapy session about his decisions being his own he was nearly positive he would not be able to say no if someone asked his to sing. And that would just prove it, that everything he'd been working on the past couple of months and all the faith Miss Rowe placed in him was for nothing. That he would never be anything more than a-

Kurt had himself right worked up at this point and of course that was when he heard two deliberate but gentle knocks at his door.

"Just a second," he yelped, running into his chair as he'd been surprised mid frantic pacing. He grabbed his jacket, took a few deep breaths and put on a perfect show face of excitement, thanking heavens for the ability as he opened the door.

"Hey!" Blaine greeted, "You ready?"

"Yes" Kurt said shrugging his jacket on and buttoning it as he joined Blaine in the hall, closing the door behind him.

"So," Blaine began, "how was the rest of your day?"
Kurt took a moment, deciding "Busy," he settled on.

"Yeah, a new school can be hectic, I hope you're liking it though" Blaine responded.

"I am." Kurt said, glad that it was actually the truth. Yes it was stressful and confusing and overwhelming, but it was still fun and exciting and new.

"Good!" Blaine said letting out a breath. "I'm glad to hear it. And that's just school. Warblers practice is a blast. Just wait."

"Yeah…" Kurt said trailing off awkwardly.

Blaine tried to let it go, but couldn't stand the way Kurt's shoulders were slightly tensed, or how his eyes were glued to the ground, not only not meeting his gaze but no longer glancing around taking in the scenery as they had been.

As they entered the building with the senior lounge Blaine stepped in front of Kurt, and put a hand on his soldier, stopping him. "Look Kurt if you don't feel up to this you don't have to come you know. I thought it'd be fun because you're interested in music but there's no pressure. Really."

Kurt froze at the hand on his shoulder concentrating on his breathing and trying to catch what Blaine was saying. He also continued to stare straight down even as he saw Blaine try to catch his eye. He just couldn't, particularly if he was going to say what he needed to.

"Thank you," he started, not quite a whisper, just over a breath, "f-f-for the no pressure." He pushed out. It was so hard, to make what should be a very simple request.

But Blaine had a certain authority about him, not in a bad way but it was there. And Kurt didn't question authority, or make requests of them. He did what they wanted. But Miss Rowe was an authority too, and he'd made his decision.

"I do want to go. Really. You're right, it probably will be fun and I do miss music. I just, I—" he sighed, frustrated with himself. "I can't sing."

"Kurt," Blaine said in a voice so soft and comforting it almost tore Kurt's eyes to him, "First of all no one's going to make you sing, but I'm sure your voice is absolutely wonderful."

"No that's not what I meant. I mean I physically can't." Even looking at the ground Kurt could feel Blaine's confusion. "I mean…it is very very important that I don't. And if you or anyone else asks me too, even if you say it's no pressure, I will. But I can't."

Kurt let his shoulders sag. He knew his story, he was him after all, and he was barely beginning to wrap his head around why he was not to sing for others. Add that to his lack of eloquence when it came to speaking and how on earth was he supposed to explain his predicament.

Blaine watched Kurt struggle to explain with sad eyes. He frankly got more confused the more this boy said. His desire to hug the boys was also increasing exponentially. Blaine! he berated himself, focus!

"Ok." He said, knowing it was particularly eloquent but wanting to show Kurt that this was a simple thing. That he didn't have to stare at the ground. That he could ask Blaine these things, or really anything…BLAINE!

"No asking, I'll let the guys know. Whatever you need Kurt, we just want you to feel at home." Blaine clarified as they began walking again.

Kurt blinked tears out of his eyes. That was it? Just like that. That was shocking yes but what really got to him was Blaine's last word. He'd had a home. And as far as he'd known he'd liked it. But when Blaine said it, it meant something else or more or just different. Kurt wasn't sure but whatever it was, it was powerful.

At that moment they turned the corner and arrived in front of the door to the senior lounge, the activity of the boys inside audible. Right outside the door stood Reed practically vibrating with excitement.

"Hey Kurt!" He greeted, then "Blaine," more timidly with a nod.

"Hello." Kurt responded glad that his voice was almost all the way back to normal.

"Hey Reed," Blaine echoed, hand on the door. "Just give a second to remind them you’re coming. Be right back!"

He winked at Kurt as he went through the door, to assure him that he would talk to the guys without the awkwardness of him being in the room. Alas the gesture of comfort was completely lost on Kurt.

"OH MY GOODNESS!" Reed whisper screamed as soon as the door closed. I can't believe I'm going to a Warblers practice! Thank you so much Kurt!"

Kurt smiled, genuinely and broadly; he'd done something good for someone else. "Of course," he replied quickly. "It was nothing," he added, because really it was a slip of thought more than anything else.

A moment later Blaine returned. "Okay, welcome to the madness," he said grinning wide as he threw the doors open, letting the papers he'd been holding fly into the air