Kurt and I never made firm plans on when we would meet at the Lima Bean, so I arrive extra-early. I get to watch the breakfast crowd file through, blinking their eyes blearily and cradling their coffees in their hands like lifelines. A few curious stares are directed my way — one perky-looking cheerleader even waves at me — but for the most part Im able to sit in the corner and observe.

Its so important that I got here early. Because I want, I need to see Kurts reaction when he walks in the door and sees me. I want to know if hes still in this because he wants to be, or because he thinks he has to be. I nurse my coffee slowly, trying to make it last.

He wanders just after eight oclock. His gaze is fixed on the floor, and it takes a minute before he notices that Im here. When he does, his face brightens instantly. I can feel my heart hiccup in my chest as he comes over to greet me. He opens his mouth to say something, but Im out of my seat already, my arms wrapping around him and my face smushed up against his shoulder. He freezes for a moment before pressing a palm against my back, laughing a little. "Missed me?" he asks breathlessly.

"Mmm." I inhale deeply. "You smell like my couch."

"Hey!" he objects. "I showered!"

"No, I mean, my couch smells like you. I slept on it last night."

I can feel the tension start to drain from his shoulders, and he squeezes me once before letting go. "Im going to get some coffee. You want a refill?"

"Sure."

Theres a spring in his step as he heads back toward the counter. I like knowing that I put it there.

When he returns, he sets down our coffees and a plate of mini-scones before raising one eyebrow daintily. "Okay, so tell me about this date of yours tonight." My surprise must show on my face, because he adds, "Easier just to address the elephant in the room so we can move past it and have a nice morning together. Dont you think?"

I shrug and nod at the same time, feeling stupid. "What do you want to know about him?"

"Oh god, nothing. Dont tell me about the guy. My imagination is bad enough. Where is he taking you?"

"A gay bar in West Lima," I say, taking a sip from my coffee. "Its called—"

"Scandals," he finishes. His eyes are wide. I feel like Im missing something. "Youre going to Scandals with him?"

"Yeah, you know it?"

"I do."

"Is it dangerous?"

Kurt shakes his head. "No, its... no. Ive been there several times. As long as you keep a level head about you, its fine."

"Shouldnt be a problem," I say. "I dont drink." He sputters into his coffee cup, and I stop and stare. "I drink?"

"Not regularly," he says, dabbing his chin with a napkin. "But its been known to happen. Once at Scandals, in fact."

So I have been there before. Sebastian was telling the truth. "Well, I wont drink tonight, thats for sure."

"Youll have to put aside the gentlemanly exterior, then."

I cock my head at him. "Gentlemen dont need to drink alcohol."

"Yes, but youre assuming youd have to place an order to get a drink. Youre meeting this guy at the bar, I assume?" At my nod, he continues. "Hell probably have a drink waiting for you when you arrive. Could you actually turn it down, without feeling like you were being rude?"

"You do know me well," I say, rubbing my neck uncomfortably.

He leans forward earnestly. "Its fine to politely say no, Blaine. Tell him you dont want to get busted for underage drinking. Tell him you want to have a clear head when you drive home later. Hell, tell him youre on medication that cant be mixed with alcohol. And if he offers you something non-alcoholic, find an excuse not to take it."

"Why?"

"Because it could have roofies in it," he says. "You never drink anything the bartender didnt hand you himself. Never."

"Oh... okay. What else?"

"If a guy asks if you want to accompany him to the bathroom, dont."

"Why not? He might feel unsafe going alone. Its a perfectly innocent—"

"It means he wants you to blow him in the bathroom," Kurt says bluntly, and I gape at him. "Or sometimes it means he wants to fu—"

"Okay!" I interrupt, my cheeks burning. "Okay, I get it. Dont drink anything, dont go anywhere with anyone. Anything else I should do?"

He picks at a scone. "Have fun." I snort at that, but his face is serious. "I mean it. Theres something very liberating about going to a gay bar. I mean, dont get me wrong, its not anything like the Castro District. Were still in Ohio, and even the gays here are prone to wearing flannel shirts and baggy jeans. But... " He shrugs one shoulder. "You can dance with another guy and not worry about someone hurling insults at you, or worse. Theres not exactly a lot of places around here where thats the case."

"I wish you could come." I start to smile as an idea blooms. "Hey. You could just happen to show up there."

"Nah."

"Really, though. You could waltz into the bar and rescue me from my dumb date—"

"Blaine, Im not doing this to punish you," Kurt says gently. "I really believe that its important."

I sigh, taking a sip of my coffee. "So this bar. Scandals. Did we go there together a lot?"

"No, just once." Hes rotating his coffee cup, and I frown.

"You said youd been there several times, though."

"The first time was with you. The other times were with a guy I was dating a few months ago."

It seems more real, suddenly. Hes really dated someone else, more than once. Hes... experienced.

Oh god. Maybe thats what this is really about. Maybe he wants me to be more experienced.

"How many other guys have you dated?"

"Uh... three. Just a couple of dates with two of them. The other one lasted a bit longer."

"What was he like?" I ask blankly.

"He was..." His eyes grow large and pensive, and I hate that he looks this lovely when hes thinking about another guy. "He really cared about me. There was just a lot of baggage between us."

"Because of the attack?"

"No, no. Ive known him for years."

"So I knew him too?"

"Actually, yes. You did."

I swallow hard, dreading the answer to my question but needing to ask it anyway. "Did you love him?"

"What? No!" He looks startled. "No. God, Blaine, no. It wasnt like that. To be honest, I didnt even realize we were dating through most of it." I furrow my brows at him quizzically, and he sighs. "He contacted me a few months after youd woken up. It was right around the time that I realized your memory wasnt going to magically come back, and it... well, lets just say it was a low point for me."

"So he took advantage of you," I fume. "He saw that you were in a vulnerable place, and—"

"No, hed heard about the attack, and he reached out to find out if I was okay. The timing was a complete coincidence. By then, most of my friends had gone off to college, and you were off living your life oblivious to my existence, and I was left feeling so isolated. Id just sit at home all day long, missing you and my friends. And suddenly along came this guy who wanted to hang out with me. At first wed meet up once or twice a week. After a couple of months had passed, I was seeing him almost every day." He runs a pale hand along the side of his neck. "I really thought he was just trying to be a friend to me. But as it turned out, hed thought we were dating the whole time and taking things really slow."

"When did you catch on?"

"When he tried to kiss me." His hand stills, and I watch his nails dig into the skin of his neck slightly. "We were sitting side by side on his couch, watching a movie, and for some reason I thought he was just leaning over me to get the remote or something, and then he was right there, breathing an inch from my face, and I freaked out."

"Why?"

"Just... like I said, baggage." He finally returns his hand to the table, but I can see a row of little red crescent shapes left on his neck. The marks start to fade slowly as he continues. "I pushed him off me and ran out the door. The rest of the night, he kept calling and texting me, trying to figure out what hed done wrong. He was so confused and upset. The next morning I called him back, and we talked things through. He was pretty embarrassed, and I felt bad for having led him on."

"It wasnt your fault," I object, but he shakes his head.

"I think it probably was. I knew that hed liked me in the past, and I shouldnt have been as affectionate with him as I was. I could snuggle up to Rachel and Mercedes without it meaning anything, but its different with a guy. Especially a gay guy."

"He still should have been positive that you were on the same page. So was that the last time you saw him, then?"

He blinks at me. "When he tried to kiss me?"

"Yeah."

"No, we started dating after that."

I can feel my jaw drop. "You what?"

"We started da—"

"Why? Why on earth would you date a guy that made you feel physically threatened?"

Kurt takes a long sip from his cup, watching me carefully. "Blaine," he finally says, "you dont know what—"

"No, yeah, Im sure it was just super romantic, being with him. I bet you had a blast. Going to movies, sharing a bag of popcorn, flinching whenever he came too close to you—"

"It wasnt like that. Not all the time."

"Right, no, most of the time he was the Prince Charming youd always dreamed about—"

"I had a Prince Charming," he snaps, his eyes flashing with anger. "I had one, and he forgot me. Do you have any idea what thats like?"

"Kurt—"

"No, you have no idea. One day I was within arms reach of graduation, with plans to finally get out of Lima and move to New York City, with the boy I loved more than anything at my side. The boy whod surprised me with a ring made out of gum wrappers and told me he wanted to be mine forever. And I believed him. I believed the dream. I let myself hope, and thats not something that ever came naturally to me. We went to a jeweler in Columbus together, and we had promise rings made, and we cried when we exchanged them. And you never cry, Blaine."

"I know," I sigh.

"We searched online for apartments in the city, and you gave me full creative control over decorating. We researched Manhattan bars with open mic nights, theaters with open casting calls. We dreamed. Up until someone hated us enough to take a crowbar and—" He breaks off, pressing his fist to his mouth.

I feel like such a jerk. "Kurt—"

"And I woke up," he continues, his voice cracking, "and you were in a coma. Everyone around us, all of our families and friends, they were all praying. But I dont believe in God, I dont. I was so helpless. At first I visited you in the hospital every day. Then it became too hard to keep up with my schoolwork, and Dad needed help in the shop to make ends meet, so it was every other day. Then once a week. Then one day I went to the hospital and you were gone. Nobody would tell me what had happened, and I thought—" He shakes his head hard, as if reminding himself that hed been wrong. "So I called your parents house, and they said youd woken up. And that you were doing just fine. And that youd forgotten me. Do you get it now?"

"Im—"

"I let myself dream," he interrupts, "and you forgot I even existed. You went on with your life, and I kept wearing a promise ring that said Always yours."

I nod miserably. "Im sorry."

"You dont get to judge me for how I tried to move on, Blaine."

"Youre right. Im sorry. I had no right."

Hes breathing deeply and slowly, like hes trying to keep tears at bay. "He and I didnt date for long after that, anyway. Just a week or so."

Im almost afraid to ask for details, but I cant help myself. "What ended it?"

"He told me he loved me." He smiles without humor. "Isnt that awful? He told me he loved me, and I told him I couldnt see him anymore. Because I didnt love him, and I knew I could never feel anything for him like what Id felt for you. After that, I went out with two more guys, and it was more of the same. They never measured up to you. I realized no one ever would."

Holding my breath, I reach across the table and take his hands tentatively. He lets me intertwine our fingers until they look like winding vines of ivy. "Im going to go on this date tonight," I murmur. "Because its important to you. But at the end of the night, Im going to call you, so that youll be the last voice I hear before I fall asleep. And Ill go on a couple more dates, if thats what you want. But thats it." I squeeze his fingers gently. "After that, Ill need you to accept that Im not in this because of obligation, or because youre the only gay guy I know. Im in it because you and I, we make each other dream. And thats not something you let slip away."

He swallows thickly. "I dont know if I can let myself hope again."

"Its okay," I promise. "I can hope enough for the both of us."