Friday after Thanksgiving 2009

Mercedes bedroom

The sun was up, shining in the window before Kurt or Mercedes woke up. Mercedes mother knocked on the door, calling them to come down to breakfast.

“We’ll be there in a minute, Mama," Mercedes called back. She turned and there was Kurt, arms wrapped around her like they always were in the mornings when he stayed with her.

Kurt opened his eyes, rubbing them to try to wake up. He was always polite in the Jones house and if Mrs Jones had called, he would be there as requested. But he was so tired this morning. He looked over at his friend and she looked down, not able to meet his eyes.

“Mercedes! What’s wrong?” he asked. Then the memory of last night came back. “Oh,” and he turned the other way, not wanting to make her any more uncomfortable.

They got up, both reaching for their clothes, hers on the desk, his on the dresser. It was so quiet.

Kurt cleared his throat. Mercedes coughed. But when they both went to brush their teeth, they collided in the doorway and grins broke out on both faces.

“This is weird, Mercy. I don’t want it to be weird between us,” he blushed.

“No…it won’t be weird if we don’t let it. I took my pill yesterday, so you don’t have to worry.”

“I know. Who is it that reminds you to take it five days out of seven every week?” Kurt smiled.

“Yeah, I know.”

Later, after breakfast, Mercedes walked Kurt home, a basket of turkey and dressing leftovers for Kurt in her arms. This was going to be..awkward.

“So…are we okay?” she asked Kurt. “Was it..was it what you expected?” Somehow that was so very important to her.

“Well, yes and no. Of course I liked it. There was evidence of that, “ he coughed and looked away from her, suddenly shy in front of his pal.

“Yeah. Lots of it,” she said, then looked at him to see if he would laugh.

Kurt didn’t know it was possible to blush any harder.

Mercedes giggled.

“Want to come over Sunday afternoon and play some music? Or we could go shopping?” she asked as they got to the Hummel’s front door.

“Of course!” Kurt replied, relieved the conversation was over. Merceds pulled him in for a goodbye hug and he kissed her cheek. He watched her as she walked back the way she had come, kind of a slow, dreamy walk. He hoped everything would be okay between them.

 “Dad? I’m home!” Kurt shouted as soon as he got in the door.

“In here, buddy,” Burt replied from his nest of blankets on the sofa in the family room. “Did you have a good time? How was Sound Of Music?, He knew the Thanksgiving tradition his son had with Mercedes.

“Good. Miss Jo sent you and I enough turkey and fixings to last a week, I think. Sausage dressing, sweet potatoes, green beans, crescent rolls, and pumpkin pie. Lots of turkey. I asked for dark meat, turkey breast tends to taste like cardboard to me.” Kurt wrinkled up his nose.

Burt laughed.

He looked at Kurt when he walked in, noticing something different about him. A funny sort of shy look. This was new.

“Are you okay, son?” he asked.

“Fine, Dad. I’ll just put this away in the refrigerator. I need to get ready for shopping later….I didn’t feel like getting up early to brave the crowds today.” Kurt said as he walked into the kitchen.

He returned in ten minutes with a turkey sandwich and a glass of milk for his dad. Burt was concerned, but saw no reason to make a big case out of it. Kurt was 15, and teenagers had so many emotions to deal with. Burt knew his son probably had more anxiety than most boys his age. He knew Kurt was gay, but since Kurt had never brought up the issue, Burt was content to  wait until his son was comfortable with telling him. Maybe this was something to do with Kurt’s feelings coming to the surface. Burt had been expecting it, just not this soon.

But Kurt just smiled and told his dad he would be meeting some of his friends at the mall later, he was going up to shower and change. Burt sighed with relief. Knowing what was coming was different than having to face it right now, and he turned his eyes to the game on television and bit into the wonderful turkey sandwich.

Life just sort of returned to normal after that. Mercedes and Kurt never mentioned their intimate night again and after a while Mercedes thought Kurt had just forgotten the whole incident happened. They continued to be as they were, best friends sharing all the ups and downs of teenage life. Mercedes sometimes thought about that night, but as time went by, she was less and less able to think of bringing the subject up with Kurt again. And when they started their sophomore year at McKinley, there were other things to think about.

Kurt was in the same frame of mind as Mercedes. He still thought about that night. He was still confused….he was so sure he liked boys. He never thought of any other girls like that, certainly never about having sex with them. Actually, he never thought about having sex with Mercedes again, either. He was just grateful she had apparently forgotten about the whole incident. He still dreamed about that night, but just had no idea what to make of that. Would they come and take his gay membership card away? Did this mean he was…bisexual?? That thought upset him the most. Kurt was a “black and white” kind of thinker, not a “shades of gray” thinker, and he thought of bisexuals as being indecisive, lost people. He didn’t want to be one of those. This whole subject made him uncomfortable even to contemplate.

Normally if Kurt had a problem that loomed so large in his life, he would make some cocoa and invite Mercedes over to hash it all out. They didn’t always agree on things, as a matter of fact they rarely agreed on anything, but that was what made them so good for each other. She could push his buttons, play devil’s advocate to force him to see both sides of any situation, force him to weigh his options and make a decision. She was there to pick up the pieces and hold him when the world was too much for him. She was his inspiration, his conscience, and his rock. And he was hers. But she was at the very heart and center of his anxiety about that night, so how could he possibly thrash it all out with her with any sort of objectivity? He settled for thinking it had not damaged her, so why bring it all back up after so much time had passed? So he stuffed all the feelings away and tried never to think about it again.