Chapter Three: Dancing Through Life

"So, it's a backward dance," his mom repeated dubiously.

"Yeah," Blaine agreed. "The girls ask the guys, and you're supposed to dress backward."

"Alright," she said just as doubtfully, and slipped another pin into the cuff of the dress pants Blaine had snagged from Cooper's closet. His brother had moved out in July and said that they could do what they wanted with the stuff he left behind. So his mother was hemming the pants to fit Blaine. Even though he was smaller than his brother, the pants still fit since he had... wide hips. "Well, the shirt and vest will be a bit big on you, but as long as you tuck the shirt in, it shouldn't look too ridiculous. Actually, the whole thing is kind of cute."

"Mom," Blaine groaned.

"Oh, let me have my moment." Blaine shook his head but didn't argue anymore. "Okay, that should do it. Go change and I'll have them hemmed in time for tomorrow."

"Thanks, mom," Blaine beamed.

She smiled in silent reply as she shut his bedroom door behind her. He changed into his gym shorts and folded the trousers over an arm before running them down to his mom's sewing room. "So when do I get to meet this guy taking my daughter to this dance?" his father asked as he walked past the office to go back to his room.

"Um," Blaine said, thrown off completely. "You do know we're just friends, right dad?"

"I was a teenage boy once, Corinne," his father said, and Blaine nearly said me too, "and there is no such thing as 'just friends' with a girl, sweetie."

"Trust me," Blaine insisted. "He's a good guy."

"Are you bringing your pepper spray?"

Blaine rolled his eyes and continued to his room. When he got there, he tried on the shirt and vest, grinning like a madman at his reflection. The only thing that was out of place was the ponytail at the back of his head. How could he convince his mom to let him cut his hair? More importantly, how could he walk into a hair salon and say "Cut my hair like a boy's," without actually saying that?

It took a while, but by the next morning, he had his story all worked out. "I have to work a little late tonight," he told his mom. "Is it okay if Tyler picks me up from work?" The look on his mom's face told him he needed to keep talking. "His dad is driving." His mom still looked doubtful. Blaine rolled his eyes, "and I'll have my pepper spray."

She sighed. "Alright. But make sure you're home by ten."

"Mom! That barely gives me an hour at the dance!" Blaine protested. "How am I supposed to make friends if I never go anywhere?"

"You're in that Glee club now, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Blaine agreed. "But Glee club's kind of uncool. If I don't make some cool friends soon, I'll be the bottom of the totem pole forever."

She sighed, surveyed him, and sighed again. "Ten thirty."

"Thanks, mom!" Blaine said, glad for what he could get.

"But you have to tell me everything when you get home," his mom added. "I want to know every little detail."

Blaine grimaced. "Yep," he said, knowing he'd avoid it for as long as possible.

Tyler looked up right as Blaine turned the corner to the older boy's locker. Had he already grown so predictable?

"Do you know anyone who cuts hair?" Blaine asked.

"Hello to you, too."

"Sorry," Blaine said. "I just really want to cut my hair, but I can't just walk into the Hair Cuttery and say 'make me look like a boy.'"

"Sure you can," Tyler said. Blaine gave him a look of incredulity. Tyler held up a hand. "Just tell them it's for a play. This is Ohio. No one's going to give you a second glance."

"Okay," Blaine said uncertainly.

"You'll be fine," Tyler assured him. "If you're nervous about it, I can go with you and tell them you're playing my younger brother. I've hung out with enough theatre kids to know that there are never enough boys. Girls plays guys all the time."

"And they get their hair cut."

"If they question it, say you're allergic to wigs."

"How is someone allergic to wigs?"

"Blaine." Tyler put his hands on Blaine's shoulders and he could feel his cheeks heating up. He tried to think of puppies or Glee club or... world hunger. Anything to beat back the flush painting his face. "Relax. Unless you look nervous about it, they're not going to question it. Maybe I should go with you and pretend to actually be your older brother. You look kind of young. They might not cut your hair if it's just you."

"Maybe I should just cut it myself," Blaine suggested.

"No," Tyler said immediately, looking horrified. "Don't do that."

"Why not?"

"Back of your head," he explained. "Trust me on this one. Look, I'll meet you after school. It'll be fine. Chill."

Blaine smiled weakly. "Okay."

"Okay," Tyler said. "Get to history."

"You know my class schedule," Blaine pretended to swoon.

Tyler only laughed. "See you later."

Blaine's brow furrowed as Tyler walked away. For the first time, it occurred to him that he'd never seen the senior hang out with any other friends? It had to be a coincidence. Otherwise, it would mean that everyone in the school really was that homophobic. Or that they were too afraid to stand up to bullies. Except Tyler.

And Blaine.

He spent his lunch shift in the pricipal's office- by choice. He told the principal- in fewer words, and with as much certainty as he could muster- that he was transgender and that he needed his professors to call him by male pronouns because it was hard to focus in class when he felt uncomfortable in the environment.

It was temporarily awkward, but by the time he left, it had been a success. Blaine had just enough time to beat his classmates to his next professor. When the math professor called roll, he called Blaine Anderson. Since he was first on the roster, everyone was still at least paying half attention. Therefore, roughly half the class turned to look at him.

Calmly, totally collected and behaving as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened, raised his hand and said "Here."

The feeling of elation continued coursing through his entire body through class, through the hallways, even after he made eye contact with Tyler at the end of the day only to have it broken as he was shoved into a locker. "You alright?" Tyler was asking.

Blaine only grinned. "I am great," he replied giddily.

Tyler grabbed him by the arm and hauled him into a corner. "Blaine, are you high?" he asked and Blaine only laughed. "Blaine, what did you take?"

"Nothing," Blaine answered. "I am just really, really happy."

"Blaine," Tyler pressed.

Blaine raised his eyebrows. "I went to the principal during lunch. All my teachers are calling me Blaine now."

Tyler's eyes widened. "That was... really fast, Blaine."

"I don't really see why I should've waited around," he shrugged. "I'm not going to change. I can't pretend to be a girl forever. People are going to find out eventually."

"You just got shoved into a locker, Blaine."

"Yeah, but I bet they wouldn't shove a girl into a locker."

"Blaine, this is serious!" Tyler turned away. "It isn't all muttered insults and locker shoves."

"Okay, enlighten me," Blaine spread his arms open. "What else is there to being out and proud?"

"Don't you get it?" Tyler asked him. "Why do you think I'm never busy when you call or I never hang out with anyone else?"

"Because kids are assholes," Blaine said.

Tyler shook his head in disbelief. "Exactly, Blaine. Your friends are all going to treat you like you've got a disease. Even the ones that still like you, they'll only hang out with you when no one's around and then even that will be too much for them. The bullies are in charge here, Blaine. If they don't like you, everyone's scared off."

"Will you be?" Blaine asked pointedly.

"That's not the point."

"But you're still my friend."

"Of course I am, but-"

"Then that's all my friends right there," Blaine admitted. "I guess, since I'm younger, you never wondered why I call you so often?"

"I assumed it was because I was your only gay-"

"Well, you assumed wrong."

Tyler's expression grew sympathetic and, Blaine was unhappy to realize, a little bit pitying. "Well, then. I guess you made the best possible decision. Will you be telling your parents soon?"

"Oh, god no," Blaine shook his head emphatically. "They'll probably just make more of an effort to call me a girl."

"Well, your secret's safe with me. I'll see you at the hair place in an hour?"

Blaine nodded.

He pulled on the slacks, shirt, and vest when he got home. He looked helplessly at the tie. Why not? It was one of the fundamental experiences of a son to...

Blaine knocked on his father's office door before he'd even realized he was leaving his room. "Dad, could you teach me how to tie a tie?"

His father gave him a look that said he'd heard all about this "dressing backward" idea from Blaine's mother, and wasn't thrilled about it. He led Blaine down the hall to the closet where he kept his work clothes and produced a tie. "Watch closely," he said. "Like this."

With that, his father pushed up his collar and flipped the tie over his head so that it was shiny-side-out against the upturned collar. Blaine mirrored his actions as he measured the uneven length of each end, wrapped the tie, pulled it through, tightened it in a perfect triangle at the center of his neck. Blaine's was a little lumpy. "I could use some practice, I guess," Blaine grinned sheepishly.

"It's good you don't have to wear ties," his father said simply. "Can you remember that?"

Blaine nodded.

"Good, I've got to get back to work."

Blaine nodded. His father left. Blaine glanced at the clock.

He grabbed his phone and keys and rushed out the door. "See you at ten thirty!" he called. "Got to get to work!"

His hair looked brilliant. As long as he didn't talk, no one could possibly doubt that Blaine was a boy. He offered his arm, and Tyler took it. They hopped on the A bus to get back to school. Blaine wished the buses ran past seven so they could take it home, but he was happy enough they could take it one way. Somehow, traveling independently, without any grown ups, felt a lot more like he and Tyler might actually be on a date. He felt his cheeks heat up for about the hundredth time.

They had dinner at IHOP, and headed over to the gym which was just beginning to fill with students. Blaine's feet slipped around in Cooper's high school shoes, even though he'd gone to the trouble of wearing two pairs of socks and shoving one in each of the toes. He tried not to think about how ridiculous he might look with the too-big shoes on his feet. At least he wasn't stumbling over them.

The music was loud and upbeat, and they danced across from each other without touching. It was fun, but that didn't quell Blaine's disappointment when they sat the slow song out. He noticed a couple jocks pointing in their direction and making what was some clearly derisive comment, but didn't let it get to him. After they each finished a glass of punch, they went back out to dance to the latest Lady Gaga song. "Walk, walk, fashion, baby," Tyler spoke along with the song, making ridiculous poses that made Blaine laugh. He mimicked Tyler's actions, feeling ridiculous but giddy.

Even better, the jocks had left and no one was hassling them. It was like the magic of shared fun made everyone too happy to pick on each other. Or maybe it was that the main bullies of the school had left so there was no one to enforce the social hierarchy of the school. Blaine's phone vibrated in his pocket. It was an alarm to tell him that it was ten o'clock. Tyler's dad would be there to pick them up in twenty minutes.

"Time to go?" Tyler asked over the music.

"One more dance," Blaine said. "Then we'll go outside."

"One more song," Tyler agreed.

To Blaine's barely containable delight, the next song was a slow one. Tyler seemed ready to back out, but Blaine grabbed his hand. "What are you afraid of?" he asked.

Tyler hesitated, but took Blaine's waist. They danced, slowly, the regulation foot apart. Blaine felt a little shiver go up his sides where Tyler's hands were. He tried very, very hard not to let it get to his head, but it was a little too late as his head was already filled with Tyler's smile and laugh and hands on his hips, and even just his presence while Blaine braved the hair salon in a suit. Well, most of a suit anyway.

The song ended, but the faint buzzing in his brain kept his mouth parted in joy. Tyler grabbed his coat from the chair he'd draped it over and they headed outside. "That was amazing," Blaine grinned once they were clear of the noise.

"I have to admit it was a lot more fun than I expected."

"It's a dance," Blaine laughed. "Of course it was fun."

"I actually wasn't planning on going," Tyler shrugged. "I'm glad you convinced me to."

"Well, I'm very happy I could cure you of your hermit-dom."

They sat in companionable silence on the steps that led to the emergency exit. It was all Blaine could do not to cry out in surprise when Tyler took his hand. Blaine looked up at the older boy. "Thanks," Tyler said sincerely. "I can honestly say this is the first time since I came out that I felt like I had a friend."

Blaine squeezed Tyler's hand in reply.

"Oh, look." Blaine cringed at the grating sound of Jamie Roberts' voice. "It's the gay boy and the gay girl holding hands, having a moment. Are we interrupting?"

"As a matter of fact, you are," Tyler answered fearlessly. "Why don't you guys just go home or go back to the dance and have fun like normal human beings?"

"See, it's hard to feel like normal human beings when you abnormal things are hanging around, screwing up our dance."

"Oh, sorry," Blaine chimed in. "I totally get where you're coming from, as you Neanderthals were making the whole gym smell like hobo."

"Oh, don't even get me started on you," Jamie went on. "A girl pretending to be a boy?"

Blaine was on his feet. "I'm not a girl."

"Yeah, you are," Jamie said.

Tyler grabbed Blaine's arm as he took a step forward. "He's not worth it, Blaine."

"Yeah, it's not like you'd win anyway, little girl."

Blaine growled and pulled free of Tyler's grip, punching Jamie square in the jaw. The other two jocks grabbed Blaine by the arms and held him still. Tyler was on his feet now, trying to get them to let go.

"Leave him alone!" Tyler yelled.

"Don't worry, gay boy," Jamie said. "I would never hit a girl."

"I'm not a girl," Blaine gritted.

"Yeah, you are." With that, Jamie ripped Blaine's shirt open. "What's that, then?"

Blaine clenched his jaw, feeling tears threatening.

"I said to leave him alone," Tyler said, lunging forward. Jamie caught the fist and shoved Tyler backward. He hit the railing by the steps and fell to the ground, unconscious.

"Tyler!"

Jamie leaned in close as Blaine struggled to free himself from the bigger boys' grips. "You know," he said. "You're kind of pretty for a freshman. Or you were until you cut all your hair off. You could've gotten a straight boy. You don't have to dress up for that faggot."

"Fuck you," Blaine snarled.

Jamie laughed, and his friends did too. "I bet you'd like that," he said. "Let her go."

He immediately pulled his shirt closed over the bandage. He thought about going after Jamie, but he'd just noticed the blood. He ran to Tyler's side and called his name, shaking him. "He's not breathing," Blaine panicked.

"Jamie, that's a lot of blood," one of the thugs fretted.

Blaine's hands were shaking. He placed two fingers on Tyler's neck. "You have to call an ambulance," Blaine started to cry. "I can't find a pulse. I can't-" A blow landed on his back. Suddenly there were kicks and punches and he couldn't breathe.

Everything went black.