After lamenting the tragic lack of recycling bins at Carmel, Rachel drains the last of her tea and throws the paper cup in the trash. She consoles herself with the notion that at least the cup's not Styrofoam.

She's just about to go looking for Mr. Anderson so they can start their warm up when she sees Kurt at the end of the hallway walking toward her.

"Kurt, there you are," she says. "We've been looking all over for you. Have you seen Mr. Anderson? It's just about time for us to do our run-through, and you haven't warmed up yet."

"Um…I…well, he…and…" Kurt stammers.

"I'm right here, Rachel," a voice calls out from behind Kurt. "I was talking to the sound guy about our setup." He claps a hand on Kurt's shoulder, causing him to flinch. Mr. Anderson either doesn't notice or chooses to ignore Kurt's discomfort.

"Ready to wow the judges?" he asks, smiling and glancing from Kurt to Rachel and then back to Kurt.

"Yeah," Kurt says, looking like he might be sick.

"Stage fright?" Rachel asks with a smug look. "It's perfectly understandable. I, myself, haven't had stage fright since an ill-fated ballet recital when I was four, but I remember the fear of failure vividly. I'm fully prepared to take over your solo if you think you might choke."

"Thank you, Rachel, but I don't think that will be necessary," Mr. Anderson says. "Kurt is beyond prepared. Right, Kurt?"

Kurt just presses his lips together in the half-smile he gives when he's uncomfortable but trying to not let it show. Mr. Anderson is still smiling, and he again misses Kurt's distress. Rachel frowns and looks back to Kurt.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Rachel asks.

Kurt nods. "I'm just going to go start my warm up," he says. Without another word, he practically runs toward the room where the rest of New Directions is waiting.

Mr. Anderson turns to follow. "You coming, Rachel?"

"Just a minute," she says. "I wanted to go touch up my makeup, and the fluorescent lighting in the classroom they're trying to pass off as a green room is horrible for my skin tone."

"Okay," he says. "Just don't take too long. We need to do a run-through."

"I'll hurry," she says, skipping off to find the bathroom.

Rachel reassures herself that one day she'll have her own dressing room with her name written on a large, gold star on the door, and she'll never have to deal with sub-par lighting again. In the meantime, though, she's just hoping for a bathroom mirror with a ledge on it, and if she's really lucky, some natural light. Finally, at the end of the hallway, she sees the ladies room. She picks up her pace, trying to keep her word to Mr. Anderson. She doesn't want to be late for a dress rehearsal.

But just as Rachel is about to pull open the door, she hears music coming from a nearby classroom. The sound is different than the songs New Directions usually performs. There's a distinct sound that only a well-practiced a cappella group can produce. She walks closer to the open door, trying her best to stay out of sight. It's not like she's spying if the door is open, she reasons.

When she looks inside the room, she sees a dozen or so boys in matching navy blazers and gray pants dancing in perfect sync to a carefully arranged rendition of "Uptown Girl." The two boys carrying the lead vocals are dancing around each other in playful circles. It's almost flirtatious, but not really sexual. It's fun. The dance steps look easy enough, but the effect of all those boys in matching uniforms and the spot-on harmonies is really quite arresting. Rachel hopes the judges are looking for something more passionate rather than this type of polished precision.

When the darker-haired of the two leads finishes the song, holding out an exquisite high note, he catches sight of Rachel and smiles. In a moment of panic, she ducks behind the doorframe to hide herself from view. Her heart is racing as she frantically looks for an escape route. Suddenly she remembers the ladies bathroom across the hall. Rachel rushes toward the door and ducks inside just as the two lead singers exit the room.

"Are you sure?" the first voice says.

"She was right here," the other voice says. "I think she's in that group from Lima that beat us last year."

"I have a feeling there won't be a repeat," the first voice says. "You'll never guess what I saw a few minutes ago." His tone is ripe with the prospect of gossip of only the juiciest kind.

Their voices sound a little farther away now, so Rachel takes a chance and cracks open the door just enough to peer out. She sees the two boys at the end of the hallway, the lighter-haired of the two leaning on a row of lockers.

"Trent making out with a girl?" the second voice says with a laugh.

"I'm serious, Nick," he says.

"Oh come on, Sebastian," the one called Nick says. "It's a little funny."

"I wasn't going for funny," Sebastian says, the picture of nonchalance. He's obviously pausing for maximum dramatic impact. Rachel does it all the time; she would know that technique anywhere.

"Are you going to tell me or not?" Nick asks impatiently.

Sebastian rolls his eyes. "Fine. But only because it's too juicy not to share." He's lowered his voice, so Rachel has to strain to make it out. She opens the door a little wider.

The darker-haired boy leans in closer, obviously trying to keep his facial expression casual, but his body language betrays his intrigue. Rachel feels herself pulled in by the prospect of gossip about her own glee club, and she leans out of the doorway, squinting to make out the movement of their lips.

"Ok, so you know how I got here early to check out the competition?"

Nick nods.

"Well, I saw that group from Lima come in. And I was just going to try to follow them around a little bit….see if they're any real competition, find a weakness. Whatever. But they really didn't seem to be all that intimidating. Then I happened to notice their new director … early twenties, has the sweetest ass … fucking gorgeous — anyway, I saw him disappear with one of the boys in the group. Some blushing, bashful twink with a bad case of the gay face."

Rachel can't believe she's hearing this. Another openly gay guy bashing Kurt. Her Kurt. She's so furious she almost forgets she's trying to stay out of sight. She claps a hand over her mouth at the last second to keep from shouting at them and grips the door handle tighter to keep herself from moving.

"God, you're mean," Nick says.

"Whatever. Do you want to hear this story or not?"

"Fine…Just tell me."

"So, they disappear back stage, and I come around a corner and they're full-on making out. Like right there in the auditorium."

"Wait…a teacher?"

Sebastian nods, a devilish grin on his face.

"And a student?"

Sebastian nods again, his smile growing wider.

"Whoa," Nick says, leaning back.

"And I don't think it was the first time either." Sebastian says. "They sounded pretty cozy."

"Holy crap."

Rachel can't believe what she's hearing. Kurt…making out with Mr. Anderson? And it's not the first time. She's suddenly aware of her heart thudding heavily in her chest and her palms beginning to sweat. Rachel can't decide if she feels more betrayed by her friend for not telling her about having a relationship with their teacher, or with her teacher for obviously playing favorites and giving Kurt undeserved solos. She's all but forgotten the two boys at the other end of the hall so she nearly jumps out of her skin when one of them addresses her.

"I see you," the boy named Sebastian calls out without looking her way. "Why don't you stop eavesdropping and come say hello."

He turns and smirks at her, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

Rachel lets go of the door so quickly it nearly smacks her in the face. She panics at the realization she's been caught. Her hands flutter up nervously to smooth her bangs. She fidgets a bit, grasping her cheeks in both hands, and playing with the straps on her dress.

You can do this. This is no time to be a scaredy cat.

She grabs the door handle, intending to exit the bathroom, but at the last second, she pulls her hand away. Rachel debates staying in the bathroom until the boys leave, but she doesn't even know how long she's been gone now, and she refuses to miss the competition. She can't stay in this stupid bathroom forever. So she wipes her hands down the front of her skirt and straightens her posture, drawing up to her full height. Head held high, she exits the bathroom.

"Aw, look…we have a fan," Sebastian drawls as the other boy laughs. "Enjoying the show, Thumbelina?"

Rachel is so caught up in thoughts about Sebastian's story, however, that the insult barely registers. She needs to know the truth.

"Did you really see Kurt and Mr. Anderson making out?" she asks, her brown eyes wide and welling up with tears, even as she tries to keep her posture tall and her tone even.

"Why don't you ask them yourself?" he says, pushing off the lockers and towering over her. "And tell that sweet teacher of yours if he's ever looking for someone more…experienced…I'm willing and able."

He bumps Rachel's shoulder as he walks past, the other boy trailing behind with a slack-jawed expression. Rachel's feet feel glued to the ground.

Kurt. And Mr. Anderson. Making out.

"I need to find Finn," she says to herself, and she races back to the green room.

Kurt is doing his best to focus on his warm up, but his nerves are raw, and he can't stop thinking about the feel of Blaine's hands on his neck, in his hair, down his back…

"Kurt, you okay?" Mercedes asks, interrupting his thoughts.

"Yeah," he says. "I think I'm just nervous about my solo." It's not the whole truth, but it's believable enough, and Mercedes' sympathetic smile tells him she buys it.

"You'll be great, boo. Don't sweat it." She pats Kurt on the back and rubs her hand in a small, comforting circle.

He wishes he could tell Mercedes, or even Tina, about Blaine. He's bursting at the seams with tension and a strange lightness all at once. But he knows it's best if he and Blaine keep their arrangement to themselves, especially now that they're having such difficulty sticking to it.

"Thanks," he says, pulling her into a quick hug. When he draws back, he gives Mercedes a genuine smile. "You're a good friend."

Mercedes narrows her eyes at him and looks like she's about to say something, when the sound of Rachel's voice rings out over the noise in the room.

"Finn!" she shouts.

Kurt looks up as Rachel walks into the room and makes a beeline for Finn. When she reaches him, she stands on her tiptoes and tugs on his sleeve to pull him down to her height. Rachel leans in to whisper in his ear, and Finn's eyes go wide as his jaw drops. He says something and Rachel nods emphatically, her eyes equally wide. Kurt tilts his head to the side as he watches them, wondering what could possibly be going on. The pair turn to look at Kurt, shocked expressions still on their faces. Rachel releases Finn's sleeve and walks toward Kurt.

"I need to talk to you," Rachel says. "In private."

"What? Now?" Kurt asks. "We really should get started on our run-through."

"This will just take a minute, Kurt. It's important."

Kurt knows better than to try to deter Rachel when she has that determined gleam in her eyes. He bites his lip and then sighs.

"Okay, Rachel," he says. "Just make it quick."

The sentence is barely out of Kurt's mouth before Rachel is tugging on his arm and dragging him into the hallway. They pass three empty classrooms and an office before she tugs open the door to a closet, three-quarters full of cleaning supplies and beat up gym equipment.

"Rachel, is there some reason we have to do this in a storage closet?" he asks, looking around and crinkling his nose. "It smells like a foot in here. This better be important."

"Give me some credit, Kurt. I understand the importance of well-timed melodrama in our friendship. Not to mention, I didn't want anyone else overhearing this before I got the story from you. Well, besides Finn. I told him first, and he said I should talk to you before I jumped to con—"

"Jesus, Rachel, will you just get to the point," Kurt interrupts. He loves Rachel to death, but sometimes her over-the-top way of doing, well, everything can be really draining.

"Fine," she says, pursing her lips. "Is there something going on between you and Mr. Anderson."

Kurt is certain his heart stops for a second, if that were physically possible. He coughs out a single huffed laugh.

"What?! Are you crazy?" he says. "Well I know you're crazy, but are you extra insane today?" He tries to give Rachel his best "are you kidding me?" look, raised eyebrow and all. He just hopes it covers up the panic in his eyes.

"Kurt, I'm serious. One of the Warblers says he saw you together."

This time Kurt's sure his heart stops. He narrows his eyes and tries to school his expression into something resembling confusion. "Saw us doing what, exactly?" he asks.

Even though they're alone Rachel leans in conspiratorially and whispers, "Making out."

Kurt's jaw goes slack, and it feels like his mouth is stuffed with cotton.

"I…uh….what?" he stammers.

"He said he saw you, Kurt. Please tell me he was lying." Her face gently pleads with Kurt; she doesn't want to believe the truth. Kurt can make this go away. He can. No one needs to know. It's just some random guy from the Warblers. If New Directions beats them today, they won't see the Warblers again until next year, and Kurt will have graduated by then. He'll be safe.

"Kurt?" Rachel asks more softly this time, running a hand along Kurt's bicep. "It's not true, is it?"

Kurt takes a deep breath, as an idea pops into his head.

"Of course not, Rachel," he says. "He's probably just trying to psyche us out before the competition or something."

Rachel looks thoughtful for a moment.

"I never thought of that," she says. "That would make sense, I guess. I think he knew I was spying, the weasel."

"See?" Kurt says, his shoulders relaxing a bit. "A perfectly logical explanation." He smiles at his friend, and thanks his lucky stars she believes him. "Now, can we go kick some Warbler butt? You, Miss Berry, have a flawless duet to perform."

Rachel smiles up at Kurt. "And you, sir, need to wow the judges with your stunning countertenor, which may not be nearly as powerful as my soprano, but it's equally flawless and quite heartbreaking to hear."

Kurt laughs because the backhanded compliment is just so perfectly her. Because in Rachel Berry's world, the highest praise one can be given is to be compared to the "star" herself.

"Shall we?" Kurt asks, holding out a crooked elbow for Rachel to take. He opens the door and allows Rachel to exit first, pulling Kurt along behind her.

Kurt is relieved to have that brief moment of panic behind him, but now he's got to find Blaine.

"I don't fucking believe this," Santana says. "Hummel fucking choked."

"He didn't choke," Tina argues. "He only messed up the one verse. I bet the judges hardly noticed."

"Keep telling yourself that, Connie Chung."

"Alright, alright," Blaine shouts. "That's enough. Santana, we're a team. Kurt made an honest mistake. No one is going to beat him up over it."

Kurt is leaning on the wall in the back of the room, staring at the floor. His blue eyes are shining, on the verge of tears.

"Kurt, are you okay?" Rachel asks softly, stroking a hand over Kurt's arm. "It was an honest mistake, sweetie. No one blames you."

"Yeah, and you recovered real quickly, dude," Finn adds. "I hardly even noticed."

"Oh for crying out loud," Santana interjects. "Am I the only one here who has a fucking clue? We are screwed."

"Everyone needs to just calm down," Blaine says. He needs to get some of these kids out of the room so he can talk to Kurt. "Quinn, Brittany, can you take Santana outside to cool off? Puck, Artie, Sam, can you find us all some bottled water while we wait for the results. Everyone else, please just give Kurt some space. Rachel, Finn, will you go find Kurt's dad please?"

Only a few members of New Directions remain, and they're the quieter ones of the group. Blaine figures it's safe to talk to Kurt with Mercedes, Tina, and Mike huddled together on the opposite side of the room and Rory and Sugar busy making googly eyes at each other nearby.

"You okay?" he says, approaching Kurt. "You did great, really. The audience barely noticed."

"It's not that," Kurt says. "I mean, it sort of is. I was distracted up there, and I definitely screwed up, but…"

Kurt trails off and Blaine doesn't know what to do or say. He knew Kurt was stressed before the performance, but he didn't think he'd struggle with his solo. If something threw him off his game, it has to be big.

"But what, Kurt?" he asks, trying to sound as supportive as possible.

"He saw us," Kurt says, his voice so low Blaine barely hears it.

"What?" he asks.

No sooner than the word is out of his mouth, it occurs to him what Kurt is saying. Someone had seen them kissing back stage. Blaine's moment of weakness, and he was caught.

"What do you mean? Who saw us?"

"Some Warbler," Kurt replies. "Rachel heard him talking about it."

"Wait…Rachel knows?" Blaine asks.

"Not exactly," Kurt replies.

Blaine narrows his eyes at Kurt. This could be very bad. Why isn't Kurt being more forthcoming with the details? Blaine's frustration flares up and bubbles over.

"What do you mean by not exactly?" Blaine is trying to keep his voice even, but even he knows there's anger in his tone.

Kurt looks up and his eyes are rimmed red and swimming in tears.

"Well obviously I denied it," he says through clenched teeth. "I'm not an idiot."

The anger flashing in his blue-green eyes is menacing, and Blaine knows he has broken some unspoken rule. Kurt may be sexy when he's annoyed, but Blaine does not want to be on his bad side, especially not on this. Blaine feels the tension leave his face as his anger fades.

"I don't think you're an idiot," Blaine says softly. He wishes he could reach out and hold Kurt to drive the point home, but he knows that's not an option. He places a comforting hand on Kurt's shoulder. That's a safe enough gesture for a teacher comforting his student, he reasons. He feels Kurt's shoulder tense as he makes contact, and then slowly relax.

Blaine leans down to try to catch Kurt's gaze, which has shifted to a stain on the carpet. He seems to be willing himself not to cry, or maybe he's trying not to scream. Whatever it is, Blaine wants to make it stop. The thought that his actions might have caused Kurt even a little bit of pain tears him up inside.

Blaine suddenly feels incredibly guilty for dragging Kurt into this mess. If only he could keep himself in check around Kurt. Stay in control better. He's the adult in this situation. Why can't he act like one?

Of course, if he were to apologize to Kurt, he would tell Blaine he didn't drag him into anything. Kurt would never let Blaine take the blame, and he would scoff at the notion that he wasn't mature enough to know what he was getting into. Blaine almost laughs out loud at the thought. When had he gotten to know Kurt so well?

Kurt finally makes eye contact again, and Blaine feels that familiar tug. There's another moment that he wants to bottle up and savor and then smother Kurt in kisses and caresses while they make plans for their future. But they're in public. And they're 22-year-old Mr. Anderson and 18-year-old Kurt. All they have right now is eye contact. There will be no kisses or caresses. No plans made. And right now it's just not enough. Blaine wants so much more.

"I'm so sorry, Kurt." He reaches up to stroke Kurt's cheek with his thumb and Kurt leans into the touch, closing his eyes. He sighs at the same time Blaine realizes what he's doing. Blaine jerks his hand back, dropping it at his side. Kurt's eyes snap open. Blaine sees a momentary flash of shock in Kurt's eyes before he jerks his head around to look around the room in the desperate hope that no one has seen his slip-up.

Rory and Sugar are deep in conversation. Good. Mike is braiding Tina's long, black hair while she reads something out of a magazine to him. Okay. That just leaves … Mercedes.

Oh no.

Mercedes is transfixed, staring a hole right through Blaine. Her jaw goes slack and her widen as the pieces to the puzzle all begin to slide into place. She looks from Kurt to Blaine, scowling at her teacher. She knows.

Her gaze goes back to Kurt, and her expression shifts from shock and confusion to deep concern. Blaine follows her line of sight and nearly gasps from what he sees. The confident, sexy Kurt he has come to know is nowhere to be found. Right now he's just a confused 18-year-old — a lost, lonely little boy. No wonder she's worried. Kurt looks broken. And it's all Blaine's fault.

"Kurt?" a deep voice calls out from the hallway. Blaine and Kurt both look toward the door at the sound.

"In here, Mr. Hummel," Tina replies, looking up from her magazine.

Burt Hummel walks through the doorway, followed by a woman who must be his wife, and then Finn and Rachel. All four look concerned, but Burt mostly looks determined. His jaw is set in a hard line as his eyes search the room for his son.

Blaine's stomach feels like it's landed with a thud in his shoes. What if Rachel told Kurt's dad what she heard? He's a dead man. Blaine bites his lip, takes a deep breath in and squares his shoulders. He holds out a hand to the approaching man.

"Mr. Hummel, I'm Blaine Anderson," he says as the older man takes his hand in a firm shake. "I thought maybe Kurt…"

"You all right, kiddo?" Burt asks, ignoring Blaine, his eyes falling on Kurt.

"Yeah dad," he says. "I just messed up."

Kurt's voice is even and doesn't betray any of his inner turmoil, but looking closely, Blaine sees a darkness in Kurt's eyes that reveals the truth. Blaine quietly hopes Kurt's father isn't as good at reading Kurt's facial expressions as he is, because it's obvious Kurt's not being honest with him.

"Somehow I don't think that's the whole story," Burt says.

Kurt glares at his father. There's no real venom in it, but he's obviously angry that his dad has called his bluff.

"I'm fine," Kurt says through clenched teeth.

"Whatever you say," Burt says with a shrug. "We'll talk later, son."

He crosses his arms over his chest and stares down at Kurt. The tilt of his head and raised eyebrow are so very Kurt that Blaine can't help but smile. Burt's obviously used to dealing with his son's deflections and knows to wait it out. Unfortunately that also means he now turns his attentions to Blaine.

"So Anderson, want to tell me what's going on here?"

Blaine's blood runs cold, at least he thinks that's the term for the terror that surges through him, at Kurt's father's words. He feels like his brain is on overdrive and he can't even think of words, let alone form them on his tongue.

"I, uh…" Blaine stammers.

"Yo, Mr. A!" Artie shouts as he, Sam and Puck enter the room. Blaine's breath escapes in a rush of relief at the sound of his name. "The judges are ready," Puck adds. "They're calling for us in the auditorium."

Blaine's eyes turn to his students, and he sees several other members of New Directions are now milling about. He's never been so grateful for an interruption in his life.

"Sorry, Mr. Hummel," he says, turning back to Burt. "Can we talk about this later?"

Burt nods.

"Great," Blaine says with a smile, suddenly feeling very lucky. He turns to face the group. They look exhausted and dejected. But he knows they did their best, and even with Kurt's minor flub, they were still really, really good. Blaine is certain they still have a chance to take the competition So he brings out his best performance-grade smile and turns on the charm. "OK guys, let's go find out who we beat to win this thing!"

There are a few whoops and catcalls from the group, their expressions brightening as they file out of the room. Blaine smiles fondly at them. He takes a second to look around to make sure they haven't forgotten anything, and he spies Kurt, still glued to the spot where he had been since they came off stage, with his arms crossed and eyes downcast. His dad has a hand on his shoulder and seems to be giving him a pep talk. Kurt gives a small nod and then reaches up to hug his dad. Blaine suddenly feels like he's trespassing on something private, so he exits the room and heads for the stage, heart beating a rapid tempo in his chest.