2002 — 2003

Kurt discovered that he enjoyed having Blaine as a pen pal.  Of course, it wasn't the same as being together, but Kurt found that he really liked writing to Blaine, and he always looked forward to receiving Blaine's letters in return.  

All throughout third grade, the boys wrote to each other every week.  In his letters, Kurt told Blaine about things he didn't feel like he could discuss with anyone else.  He wrote about his mother – how much he loved her, how worried he was because she was sick, how angry he sometimes felt when she couldn't do the things she used to do with him, and how guilty he felt about being angry.  Later, when Kurt's mother died, he wrote to Blaine about his father — how much he loved him, how worried he was because he seemed so sad, how angry he sometimes felt when his father didn't know how to do the things his mother used to do with him, and how guilty he felt about being angry. 

Blaine's responses always made Kurt feel better.  Somehow, Blaine seemed to understand him and to believe that he was a good person, which helped Kurt to believe it, too.

As summer drew near, the boys' letters began to be filled with their hopes and dreams about camp.  Seeing Blaine again was the only thing Kurt found himself looking forward to since his mother had died. 

The days seemed to drag by, but finally July arrived.  That Sunday morning, Kurt woke up early, feeling like it was Christmas.  He tried to be patient, but by 9:00 he couldn't help asking his dad, “Can we leave yet?”

“Kurt, buddy, the registration packet says you're supposed to arrive between 3 and 4 o'clock.  It takes three hours to drive there, so if we leave right after lunch we'll have plenty of time.”

“After lunch?!  Dad!  I'm already packed.  Can't we just go now?”

“I know you're excited, but you and Blaine have been apart for almost a year.  Another couple of hours won't kill you.”

“But Dad —”

“Kurt, I said we're leaving after lunch.”

Kurt could tell there was no point in arguing, so he changed tactics.  Although he usually ate at noon, by quarter to eleven he approached his dad with, “I'm starving.  What are we having for lunch?”

With a knowing look, his dad answered, “Well, if you're that hungry, I guess we could have lunch a little early today.  How does tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich sound?”

“Great!  Thanks, Dad.”

When they finally reached Ride ‘Em Cowboy Ranch Camp (20 minutes before the registration tables were due to open) Kurt was disappointed to see that there were no other cars in the visitors' lot.  Noticing the look on his face, his dad said, “Buddy, I told you we were going to be early.  The other campers will be arriving between 3 and 4 like they're supposed to.”

At that moment, another car pulled into the lot.  Before the driver had even switched off the engine, a rear door opened and Blaine flew out.  

Kurt felt suddenly shy.  Subconsciously, he'd been expecting Blaine to look exactly the same as he had last summer.  He hadn't thought about the fact that Blaine would look older.  He wondered if he looked different to Blaine, too.

Blaine apparently felt none of Kurt's hesitation or self-consciousness.  He raced over and threw his arms around Kurt with a whoop of delight.  In an instant, all of Kurt's reserve melted away.  Here was his best friend, and they were back together at last.

Kurt and Blaine quickly fell back into their old closeness, spending all of their time together.  Blaine often held Kurt's hand as they were walking around camp or sitting in front of the campfire, and after an initial burst of self-consciousness, Kurt found that it just felt natural to have Blaine's hand in his.  

Everyone seemed to take their relationship as best friends at face value, until a new boy arrived at the start of their second week.  His name was Max, he was 12 years old, and this was his first summer at Ride ‘Em Cowboy Ranch Camp.  This meant that although he was in Shire Cabin with the oldest boys, he was assigned to the beginners riding group along with Blaine and Kurt. 

On Monday, when Max complained about being with the “little kids,” one of their riding instructors, David, explained how the system worked.  In order to move from the beginners group – Level One – to the intermediate group – Level Two – campers had to pass three tests set by the Certified Horsemanship Association.  These included a written test of knowledge about horses, a test of horsemanship skills such as grooming and tacking a horse, and a riding test.  David explained that it generally took from four to eight weeks at camp for boys to reach the level of skill needed to pass all three tests, which was why the riding groups were based on ability rather than on age.

Max said he understood, but Kurt could sense that he still felt resentful.  Max's resentment only seemed to increase when he noticed how much more skillful Kurt and Blaine were with the horses than he was himself.  Blaine's attempt to make him feel better by letting him know that this was Kurt's fourth week at camp and his own third week, and that everything would get easier once he'd been there a little longer, only seemed to make him angrier.

All the rest of that day, Kurt could feel Max glaring at him and Blaine.  The situation came to a head on Tuesday morning.  As Kurt and Blaine walked hand-in-hand toward the pavilion for their “Horse Sense” class, Max sneered, “Why do you have to be so gay?”

Before either of the boys could react, Andrew, their instructor, stepped in.  He gently but firmly took hold of Max's shoulder and said, “The primary value of this camp is respect.  Now, ‘gay' is not a bad word, and being gay is not a bad thing.  But when you call someone ‘gay' with a scornful tone of voice, you are using the word as an insult.  That is not something that we tolerate here.  I would like you to apologize to Blaine and Kurt.”

“Sorry,” Max mumbled.

“That's okay,” said Blaine, smiling at Max.  Kurt nodded his head in acknowledgement, but he still felt uneasy.  He wished he could be as carefree as Blaine, but something told him that this was not over.

Unfortunately, Kurt was proven correct later that day.  As he and Blaine walked toward the hitching post, holding hands as usual, Max came up behind them and snarled, “Since I'm not supposed to call you ‘gay' I should just call you what you are – a couple of little fags!”

Kurt and Blaine turned to face him, looks of shock on both of their faces.  Just then, one of the horsemanship instructors, Robert, popped up from where he'd been hidden behind a horse, picking a stone out of its hoof.  Kurt had never seen such a serious look on Robert's face.  Apparently Max could tell that Robert meant business, because he followed meekly along when Robert said he was taking him to see Uncle Mike.

By now the other boys were beginning to gather around them, and Kurt felt as though he might cry.  He struggled to hold in his tears as Blaine wrapped him in a tight hug.  He felt embarrassed and ashamed, as though he, and not Max, had been the one to do something wrong.

It took a moment for the strange roaring in Kurt's ears to die down enough that he could make out what the individual voices around him were saying.

“That was so mean!”

“I can't believe Max was so rude!”

“Don't pay any attention to him.”

“He's just mad because you're both better riders than he is.”

“Yeah, and he's jealous because he doesn't have a best friend here.”

“Don't listen to him!”

Kurt felt a rush of affection for the other boys, some of whom were his friends, but most of whom he'd only known for a couple of days.  The sense of support, and the righteous indignation they were expressing on his and Blaine's behalf, banished his feelings of embarrassment and shame.  

Giving Blaine one last squeeze before he let go, Kurt turned to the gathered crowd.  “Thanks, guys,” he said.  “Now let's go get our horses so we're not late for our trail ride.”

Kurt didn't see Max again that day.  Not only did the older boy miss the trail ride, but he wasn't at dinner or the evening campfire, either.  

Wednesday morning, as Kurt and Blaine were walking to breakfast, Max approached them.  “Hey, guys,” he said, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Kurt felt a little nervous, but Blaine squeezed his hand and turned to Max.  “Sure,” he said.

“I just wanted to say that I'm really sorry about yesterday,” Max said.  “I had a long talk with Uncle Mike and Aunt Lisa, and they helped open my eyes.  I know that what I said wasn't cool, and I hope you'll forgive me.”

“Of course,” said Blaine, smiling at Max.

Kurt still felt a little skeptical, but Max sounded sincere, so he gave Max a tentative smile as well.

Kurt never found out exactly what Uncle Mike and Aunt Lisa had said to Max during the long afternoon and evening that he was separated from the other campers, but whatever it was, it seemed to completely change his attitude.  For the rest of that week, he went out of his way to be friendly toward Kurt and Blaine.

On Thursday evening, Max came up to the boys after dinner and said, “Hey, you guys look upset.  Is anything wrong?”

“David told me I've been doing really well in riding lessons,” Kurt sighed, “And I'll probably be able to pass my riding test tomorrow.”

“But that's great,” said Max.  “So what's the problem?”

“The problem,” explained Blaine, “Is that this is Kurt's fourth week of camp, but only my third week.  I'm not a good enough rider yet to pass on to the next level.  And if Kurt passes and I don't, then next week, even though we'll both still be here, we won't be in any of the same classes.”

“Well, why don't you just fail the riding test on purpose, Kurt?” Max suggested.

Kurt thought about it for a moment, then shook his head.  “I couldn't do that to my horse,” he said.  “In order to fail, I'd have to purposely ride badly, and that wouldn't be fair to him.”

“What about the written test?” Max asked.  “Could you purposely fail that?”

Kurt smiled.  “Yeah, that's a great idea.  Thanks, Max!”

The following week, Kurt and Blaine were still in the beginners riding group together.  They worked hard in all of their classes, and by they end of the week they were confident that both would be able to pass.

When Uncle Mike handed them their official Certified Horsemanship Association certificates, Kurt and Blaine beamed at each other.  “We did it!” Blaine cheered, hugging Kurt.  “I can't wait for next summer!”