"I'm serious, Kurt," Quinn remarked, blowing out the first of her dusty smoke, "if we don't start attending classes, our senior year will have to be repeated."

Quinn and Kurt hardly ever got up from their hiding place inside the fairly clean bleachers to actually go to classes, they weren't the smartest pupils at McKinley, neither the dumbest, just, average.

"Or," Kurt drawled out, sucking on the end of his abandoned cigarette, "we could just do extra corriculor?"

Kurt distant in thought, was snapped out of his daze to the sounds of his bestfriend spluttering with laughter.

"Extra corriculor, Kurt, really?" She coughed, smoke clogging up her lungs.

"Q!" He snapped after a while, patting her harshly on the back to somewhat subside the coughing, "now I'm serious, if we don't graduate this year, like you said, our senior year will have to be repeated."

She thought for awhile, muttering the occasional quirk, but then sighed in defeat, stubbing out her cigarette with Kurt following suit, they linked arms whilst trudging down the white metal stairs, eachothers boots clinking together in sync.

"So, are we going to sign up to math classes or.." Quinn waved the last of her sentence off with a flick of her jewellery clad wrist.

"We could, but honestly, if we see to Miss. Sylvester about this, our heads will be off, no turning back, so I suggest" Kurt smirked, "we go to Mr. Spanish teacher."

"The one that can't teach?" Quinn raised a perfectly shaped brow.

"Exactly, sign up to a couple of his classes, pass easily, equals senior year, complete" Kurt went on, signing the air with a little tick.

"Hummel, I never took you as dumb, but damn, this might work, just don't screw it up."

Exchanging their signature high five as they marched down the hallways, faces smacked with grins.

"Are you both even pupils at this school?" Mr. Shue queeried, guesturing between the two.

"Yes," Quinn hissed, rolling her eyes which traveled over to Kurt, who was flicking a baby blue lighter between his nimble fingers.

"Okay," He pressed, "Is there any reason you came to me, isn't there any other teachers you could speak to this.. situation about?"

"No," Kurt butted in, placing the lighter swiftly in his tight jean pocket, "after smoking all day, it hurts to stand, or move, let alone get our heads ripped off by teachers, so we thought, why not the spanish teacher?"

With a sigh, Mr. Shue started clicking buttons and tapping keys on his computer, "I'm afraid all the avaliable spaces in my spanish class are occupied, but, spaces in glee club are running low, we would love some new memb-"

"Woah, no, wow okay, stop already," Kurt snapped, eyes wide open, mouth slack, "we're not, joining glee club, people are finally actually scared to approach us and what, we're going to throw that all away to sing?"

"Kurt, reputation isn't every-"

"No, no I won't, sorry, Mr. Shue but I, no, can you find something else?"

"Kurt, there is nothing else, you are three quaters of your way through senior year."

Flinging his head back in annoyance because glee club.

"We'll do it," Quinn announced, jumping up from her seat, grabbing Kurt's hand, "if that's the only thing we can do, then yeah, we'll do it."

Before Kurt could protest or even breathe he was whisked out of the damp office, and pushed into the outside wall, "like I said, don't screw this up," Quinn angered.

"Oh angry Quinn, you've suddenly made an appearence, can I get you some tea? Coffee?" He snorted, unlatching Quinns death grip on his bicep.

"Shut it, Hummel, we need one more class, and this is it, pack up your issues with glee club and reputation, put them in a box and sing with me."

Luckily the slushie that Karofsky had launched in Blaine and Rachel's direction only reached his left arm, so the clean up was much easier.

Wiping the mascara that had trickled down her face with the reminents of sticky cherry ice, Rachel broke the silence, "so I heard something," she stopped to wipe ice off her nose, "about, Kurt."

Rachel knew about Blaine's undying love for this boy, he'd told her after she caught him staring directly at Kurt's ass during lunch time, not just one month ago.

Blaine was starting to regret telling her, that's all they ever spoke about, not that he didn't want to speak about Kurt all day; because he did, just, not with her.

"He's joining glee club, with Quinn."

Everything stopped and feelings hit Blaine like a train, smashing into his lungs, rippiling through his body, why was Kurt joining glee club?

"W-What?" He choked out, gripping at the sink basin, studying Rachel with weary eyes, "Youcannotbeserious."

"I heard it from Mr. Shue," Rachel continued, rubbing at Blaine's back, "apparently he needs one more extra class to go in his achievement folder o-or something like that, so does Quinn, they wont be here for long though."

"What am I going to do, Rach? He doesn't even know me, yet I think I'm in love with him, t-this is crazy."

"Just stay cool, I mean, like that's hard," she laughed, nudging him in the hip, "don't do anything stupid, like you normally do around him."

Blaine groaned, pressing his sticky palm into his cool forehead, remember the events that usually happen whenever he notices Kurt from across the courtyard.

"Wanna go grab some lunch?" Rachel asked, after neatly packing up her make-up purse and storing it inside her bag.

Shaking his head Blaine pulled up the strap on his bag and huffed, "I think, I'll go to the library, homework and, stuff."

"You sure? I could always come, I mean I've got t-"

"No, thanks, Rach, I'll see you in glee." He kissed her cheek, pushed open the metal door of the girl's toilets - luckily nobody had come inside whilst they were cleaning off the slushie, that would of been very awkward - and headed upstairs for the library.

Blaine's anxiety was getting the better of him, waiting and just knowing Kurt would be in the same room as him in a matter of simple seconds was terrifying.

'Kurt never notices you though, so why would he notice you now?' Blaine's inner concence told him, shaking his head a little, trying to block out other thoughts he heard the tap, click, tap, click, of shoes walking down the hallway, towards the slightly medium sized choir-room.

Glancing over to Rachel who's eyes were burning a hole into the side of his head and shot her a nervous smile, like a sideways glance to ask if either one of them was okay, it was kind-of their thing now, to check up on eachother.

But Blaine was not okay.

He wanted to rush out of here faster than you could say, 'Kurt Hummel', he wanted to explode into little tiny pieces of dust, well, that's exactly what he felt like when he saw Mr. Shue's face pop around the corner, dust.

He couldn't breathe when he saw it.

When he saw him.

Kurt.

Then Rachel's hand was on his back, rubbing comforting circles, because she knew, knew about how his knee's turned into jelly, how his stomach flopped, how his mind spinned, whenever he saw that hair, that body, everything.

"..ome our new members, Kurt Hummel and Quinn Fabray."

Oh right, Mr. Shue was talking, snap out of it Blaine, he's just a boy.

"And why should we let them join, Mr. Shue?" Santana smirks, filing at her nails with quick stroke and slide motions.

"Becau-"

"None of your buisness, fake boobs," Kurt snaps, "oh and nice hickey on the side of your neck there, why I'd almost call you a slut."

"Jelous," Santana quirks, "I bet you haven't even received a handjob, virgin."

"Actually, I ha-"

"Enough, guys, just, sing Kurt." Mr. Shue laughed nonchalantly.

"Well, have you got a guitar?", woah, Blaine thought, since when could he play guitar?

Mr. Shue pointed to the corner of the room, where an acoustic guitar sat in all its glory.

Taking it away from the wall and pulling up a stool he started to pluck the strings with his fingers, the fingers that Blaine loved all too much.

Then he started to sing.

Is it still me that makes you sweat?

Am I who you think about in bed?

Blaine's breath caught in his throat.

When the lights are dim and your hands are shaking as you're sliding off your dress? 

Then think of what you did

And how I hope to God he was worth it.

When the lights are dim and your heart is racing as your fingers touch his skin.

Quiet murmers of 'he's really good' were being shared around the room, but Blaine effectively blocked them out, just listening to the sounds of a complete angel.

I've got more wit, a better kiss, a hotter touch, a better fuck

Kurt winked at Blaine, the room was spinning.

Than any boy you'll ever meet, sweetie you had me

Girl I was it, look past the sweat, a better love deserving of

Exchanging body heat in the passenger seat?

No, no, no, you know it will always just be me.

Let's get these teen hearts beating. Faster, faster

So testosterone boys and harlequin girls,

Will you dance to this beat, and hold a lover close?

So testosterone boys and harlequin girls,

Will you dance to this beat, and hold a lover close?

So I guess we're back to us, oh cameraman, swing the focus

In case I lost my train of thought, where was it that we last left off?

(Let's pick up, pick up)

Oh now I do recall, we were just getting to the part

Where the shock sets in, and the stomach acid finds a new way to make you get sick.

I hope you didn't expect that you'd get all of the attention.

Now let's not get selfish

Did you really think I’d let you kill this chorus?

Let's get these teen hearts beating. Faster, faster

So testosterone boys and harlequin girls,

Will you dance to this beat, and hold a lover close?

So testosterone boys and harlequin girls,

Will you dance to this beat, and hold a lover close?

Blaine finally let himself smile, because Kurt's voice was gorgeous, it was like listening to a tender silk thread its way through heaven, 'god I read too many romance novels' Blaine scolded internally.

Dance to this beat

Dance to this beat

Dance to this beat

Kurt was tapping his feet to the guitar strings beat, notes getting hit perfectly.

Let's get these teen hearts beating. Faster, faster

Let's get these teen hearts beating. Faster

I've got more wit, a better kiss, a hotter touch, a better fuck 

Than any boy you'll ever meet, sweetie you had me

Girl I was it, look past the sweat, a better love deserving of 

Exchanging body heat in the passenger seat?

No, no, no, you know it will always just be me.

Let's get these teen hearts beating. Faster, faster

So testosterone boys and harlequin girls,

Will you dance to this beat, and hold a lover close?

So testosterone boys and harlequin girls,

Will you dance to this beat, and hold a lover close?

So testosterone boys and harlequin girls

Dance to this beat

So testosterone boys and harlequin girls

Dance to this beat

And hold a lover close

Let's get these teen hearts beating. Faster, faster

Let's get these teen hearts beating. Faster.

As the song came to an end, no one spoke, there was no claps, nothing.

"Well I've rendered everyone speechless, was I that good?" He quipped, pushing the guitar back toward where it used to stand.

"Yes," Blaine breathed out slightly, then snaps his mouth shut in realization, earning Kurt's mouth to quickly quirk up into a slight smirk.

"He can join," Santana says, starting to form a slow clap between the group, even Quinn was speechless.

The applause got louder, and soon most members started to stand up, all members except Blaine, who was having trouble moving.

"Welcome to the New Directions, Kurt," Mr. Shue clapped, smiling, "just, keep the music to an appropriate language, next time."

"Great," he replied, rolling his eyes and taking a seat.

A seat next to Blaine.

Blaine snapped his gaze quickly over to Rachel, eyes begging her just to do something please Rachel do something.

Rachel in return just winked, a wink that spoke no blaine, talk to him.

"Alright!" Mr. Shue spoke, whilst Blaine breathed a sigh of relief on having an excuse to avoid a conversation with him, "Quinn."

That's life, that's what people say. 

You're riding high in April, 

Shot down in May. 

Kurt quirked an eyebrow in her direction.

But I know I'm gonna change their tune, 

When I'm right back on top in June.

That's life, funny as it seems. 

Some people get their kicks, 

Steppin' on dreams

But I just can't let it get me down.

Cause this big old world keeps spinnin' around. 

"Oh god," Kurt whispered to himself, "how did I not see this coming?"

I've been a puppet, a pauper, a pirate, 

A poet, a pawn and a king. 

I've been up and down and over and out 

But I know one thing: 

Each time I find myself flat on my face,

I pick myself up and get back in the race.

That's life, I can't deny it, 

I thought of quitting, 

But my heart just won't buy it. 

Cause if I didn't think it was worth a try, 

I'd have to roll myself up in a big ball and die.

The entire group was smiling as the song drew to a close, the applause wasn't as loud as Kurt's, but it was still there.

"Welcome to the New Directions, Quinn!" Kurt smirked, walking up towards her and slinging an arm around her slack shoulders, "this should be fun."