Monday dawned with the promise of excitement.
Solo tryouts.
All of the Junior Warblers managed to scrape themselves off their cotton sheets and arrive to breakfast with actual time to spare. The whole school seemed to buzz like an open socket. Which was outrageous because most Monday breakfasts involved only the arias of complaints croaked out in sleep deprived moans. The cafeteria ladies seemed overwhelmed by the new disposition of their usually weary-eyed occupants. They served their eggs and toast with almost frightened looks of pure surprise.
This was all a show of exactly how much the 28 Warblers affected the school personality. If the songbirds were in joyous occasion, so were the schoolboys.
"Yo! B!" Thad screeched from our oak table.
"Hey Thad."
"Jeff here mentioned something about bringing you make up work, been seeing that spy kid have we?"
"Sorry...I really only mentioned it in passing...." Jeff shrugged bashfully.
"Um..." I didn't really know what to say.
"Yeah! Do you have his number yet?" David whispered it like a thirteen-year-old fangirl would discuss her celebrities new haircut.
"I-um...yeah..." No use lying.
Wes suddenly decided to burst in with his ever-observant comment, "God! Haven't any of you noticed? He texts him ALL THE FREAKING TIME."
"Oh! So thaaats who he's always texting," Nick whistled, "Coffee aaand texts, lets hire the wedding planner, boys, because Blaine's getting married!"
"Shut up Nick...." God they were impossible, "It's really not that big of a deal."
"It is! It is! You never text any of us! Well, not unless we specifically text you first! This is serious Blaine!" Trent, poor dear, was about to bounce himself right out of that spindly chair.
"Yeah! This is HUGE!"
"Guys, we have known each other for a week, I am not going to ask him out."
"Well you kind of already did..."
"It wasn't a date!"
"Did you want it to be?" Thad countered.
"I-no, well yeah...I don't know! I don't want anything fast, you know? I like him, but we need to get to know each other better. And, as I already said, at this point he just needs a good friend, not a boyfriend." Because, that is exactly what I once needed, once I found that, I found life.
"Ok, ok, fine, will we ever get to meet him though?" Jeff asked, "It seems unfair that Wes and David are the only ones who got to meet him."
"Yeah! How come I didn't get to meet him? I'm on the council too, you know!" Thad wailed.
"Yes, but unlike Wes and David, you have no boundaries of maturity or self-control. No offense." Nick pointed out wisely.
"David is NOT mature!"
"Hey! I can be...when necessary!"
"I do not believe that..."
David puffed out his chest, "You should! I can be VERY professional."
"Seriously though, Blaine, when will we get to meet the spy?" Trent interrupted the blooming argument.
"I will tell you if you promise to stop referring to him as "the spy". He has a real name."
"Fine, when will we get to meet Kurt?"
"If everything works out, Wednesday."
"REALLY?"
"Yeah, he should be visiting Dalton on Wednesday to see if he could possibly transfer."
"So he really WASN'T spying!"
"No, he really wasn't, he was checking out the academy."
"I like the spy story better..."
It was only as we were exiting the billowing hall of a cafeteria that conversation took a truly serious bend. I heard the tap of dress shoes on polished wood, increasing in speed as they drew louder.
"Blaine!" We stopped down to my pace as he reached my side.
"Hmm?"
"I-you know we were just, like, playing around, right? We truly respect your decisions."
"Yeah, I do Wes, but thank you, really."
"I mean, yeah we are all happy that you FINALLY HAVE A CRUSH, but I think we would all be wary of you jumping right into a relationship. We all remember how you used to be," talking about his old heart made him uncomfortable, he blushed awkwardly and broke his gaze from the serious glint of Wes' slanted eyes, "We realize that he just needs a friend like you did, someone to talk to. I do also realize that none of US really know him either, we are just making assumptions based on the facts presented. We are all assuming it is in reasonable similarity to your case." he stopped here to let out a very un-Wes-like smirk, "Although I really don't think a GOOD boyfriend would be too bad, I mean comfort come in many ways."
"WESTLY MONTGOMERY!"
"Just saying.."
"Since when do you "just say" anything?!"
"Right, ok, anyways..." Wes cleared his throat, "We support your decisions fully. Don't mind our immature gimmicks."
"Ok..."
"Right then, I'm just gonna.. " he gestured off behind his shoulder, "See ya at practice then."
"I-ok..."
Well that was an interesting conversation. God, Wes could be so blatant sometimes.
•••
The mood in the wind had been relatively subdued by the time tryouts actually came. It was like a thunderhead hovered over every head, keeping them in a quiet state until it was time to start.
The infamous gavel thumped down on the head desk, "Alright, all members trying out for Lead in Titanium, please exit the room and wait in the hall until Thad comes to get you."
Six members got up in various states of apprehension, and exited the room, Dill, Travis, Nick, Jeff, Geovanni, and Anthony (It was terrible, but I kind of hoped that Anthony would slip in his own greasy personality and fall on his face). The room was left in the wake of nervousness, all of us glued to the council table, waiting for Thad to get permission to bring Dill (auditions always went by order of grade) back into the room. A few minutes later Thad left and two seniors took up their posts at the double doors to let Dill back in. The doors swung open and after a dramatic pause, Warblers loved dramatics, Dill gave his CD to David and then took to the center of the room. Dill sang something by Johnny Cash, which was almost hilarious because Dill was lanky and thin as thread. His deep country melody (none of us could figure out where the freshman found it in him to sing that deep and full) was not quite what we were looking for in Titanium, but it did earn him quite the new status.
The other auditions went about the same, none of them as surprising, we voted round after round until the only ones left were Nick and Anthony (why again did this kid have to sing so good? He was probably the most egotistic person I had ever met, but god, he had them pipes). It was left after a final, and nerve-wracking-ly close vote, the Anthony would only sing lead in the event that Nick was unable.
With Nick and I both having solos, and all the council members being Juniors, we were quite the dominating class. At this point it was almost verging on totalitarianism.
From there we had our first run through of the number. With all eyes glued fixedly on freshly printed sheet music (composed by our own dear council) we sang it through with all screeching chords and off tempo melodies. The first run through was always an adventure.
We ran around like a freed zoo, jumping on couches, dancing like maniacs. Grinning at each other like boys caught playing in mud.
This was who I was.
At the beginning of every song there is that slight hesitation, will I make a mistake? Will I sound horrendous? And after that pause I always realize that I am with people who care about me no matter how stupid I may ever sound, because honestly, they are my friends, they are going to sound stupid right along will me. So I let myself join the ruckus of potentially preppy a cappella boys. I let myself catapult onto coffee tables, dance like the world couldn't care. I let myself grin without an underlying frown of worry.
I sang, I breathed, I was.
•••
Kurt: Spaghetti or panini?
Me: Um...hi...what?
Kurt: Spaghetti or panini?
Me: Spaghetti...as long as it doesn't have tomato sauce...
Kurt: ok
Me: umm...so now can I ask, what?
Kurt: I am home alone for lunch, I didn't know what to make...and I may possibly be hopelessly bored...
Me: oh, well in that case choose whatever you like better
Kurt: nope, spaghetti is happening
Me: ok...
Me: So are you coming to visit Dalton tomorrow?
Kurt: Yup! Maybe I will see you?
Me: I hope so
Kurt: ok : ) so back to lunch...what is wrong with spaghetti sauce?
Me: It so...tomato-y
Kurt: and tomatoes are healthy
Me: so are lots of things, like plain pasta
Kurt: plain pasta is NOT healthy!
Me: well according to the food pyramid I need to eat seven helpings of grain
Kurt: the food period lies
Me: Does it Kurt? Does it?
Kurt: yup
Me: grr...this argument isn't over...but I have to go to class now.
•••
Between the mind-fuddling classes, I kept my eyes in a tracked scan, looking out for a boy with tall hair to match my own Bambi eyes. It was after third period that I spotted him, he was dressed nicely (but then again, when ever was he not?) and held his satchel close to him, he may know that he is safe, but knowing and trusting are different things. There was another man close beside him, obviously his father, who sent looks to every boy who passed by, daring them to even breathe on Kurt. He was obviously not used to high class, not in a bad way, just never exposed, he wore a flannel shirt, loose jeans, and a forest leave baseball cap. Both of their profiles expressed waves of sheer wonder as they glided down the hall, taking in the boys (boys who, at any other school would be cussing and slapping each other on the back) who apologized every time they even bumped one another, and shook each others hand as their way of greeting. I noticed their guide, a senior who I didn't know but recognized from the Dalton band (I think he played euphonium?) who seemed to be leading them on a tour of the campus. Not having much precious time to spare, I raced down the polite hall towards them.
"Hi Kurt!" He jumped at my voice but then eased back down into a pleased smile, I turned to his father and stuck out my hand, "Blaine Anderson, pleased to meet you, sir."
He seemed taken aback by such a show of chivalry, "Hi, Burt Hummel, nice to meet ya too kid," he then paused and thought, "Are you the one who took Kurt out for coffee?"
"Just as friends, sir, but yes, that was me." I didn't feel the need to point out Kurt actually asked ME out to coffee.
"Hmm, alright then," he cleared his throat, "You like Dalton then?"
"I love it, sir, I would love to discuss it with you later if you will be around for lunch? I have to attend class at the moment, sir."
Kurt finally jumped in, "That would be great, we'll meet you then," he gave me a quick smile before dragging his dad off to wherever the senior guide was taking them.
•••
St. Trent sat towards me, eyes wide, as I squealed into Pre-AP Pre Calculus, "Is he here? Is he? Is he?."
"Yup."
"Ohmygod! Are we gonna meet him?"
"If you promise to behave and contain yourself," I smirked playfully.
"I will I PROMISE!"
I pretended to think about it for a moment, just to watch Trent jump around, "Hmm...I guuueeees I could let him meet all of you..."
"YAY!"
"He'll be around for lunch, I am going to eat with his father and him for awhile, than I can introduce you."
He suddenly subdued and looked at me, confused, "You are going to eat with his...his father?" His voice was gentle, trying to ease me into the realization instead of throwing me overboard into the dark ocean.
I began to process this. I was going to eat with his father, his FATHER. Oh my god, what was I supposed to do...I didn't get much time to panic though, our teacher came in and began discussing our test for that Friday.
I sort of began this mantra in my mind, forcing my head to stay above the cyclone.
For Kurt. For Kurt. For Kurt.
He was the only person on this earth that could keep me out of panic like that. I could see his eyes, churning with celestial force, luminescent orbs of a nautical landscape. I could see his face, looking at me, listening. I could feel the soft of his hand, meeting my lips in a nervous comfort.
I could feel the ties of friendship knitting, quicker than I could have ever imagined, into something much more.
"Hey, B, you there?" Thad waved a hand in front of my face, "It's gonna be fine man, if you feel bad, just bring a couple of us over, alright." I could do that, I could have a backup plan. Thank the lord for Trent, I could do this. I had to do this.
It sickened me that my life was buffered by unrelenting panic, that my life was controlled not by what I could do, but what I couldn't.
I threw myself into graphs and equations, distracting my mind to a point where feeling was lost, only a false confidence remained.
•••
I sat, forcing breathes, plastered with a mannered smile, hands wringing in increasing rhythm under the table.
"So ya said you like Dalton then?" We were seated at a quiet table in the corner of the cafeteria, the senior guide (apparently named Raji) was done with his duties for the day, and left the Hummel's in my anxious care.
"I do, very much, sir."
"And you board here?"
"Yessir, only about ten students live close enough to go home every night, many of us are from the Columbus area."
"Ah, so lots of CEO's and Lawmaker's kids then?"
"Well, yes, but we are not pretentious or anything. We accept anyone, no matter what."
"Even kids on scholarship?"
"Yessir, I know plenty of people on scholarship."
"Alright then." He paused here and seemed to look me over before proceeding, "Do you know anything about the school's policy on bullying?"
"Oh, yes, definitely sir, no one is ever discriminated against here, ever. If there is an incident, the bully is immediately expelled."
He put his next words out very carefully, as he slid clandestinely over towards Kurt, "Has any one ever been abused because...because of their sexual orientation." I almost laughed at that (I contained myself before I became exquisitely rude) Kurt hadn't told him?
"Oh, no sir, I would know, I'm gay." For all my flaws and insecurities, coming out to people really hasn't bothered me in ages.
Mr. Hummel's face morphed into a wide-eyed "O", though I was still essentially petrified, I did breathe a little easier realizing how supportive Kurt's father was, "So no problems, with roommates or anything?" By the look on Kurt's face, I assumed he hadn't even pondered that variable.
"No problems, I have wonderful friends, and my roommate is very supportive. The rooms are also suite style, so there is quite a lot of privacy. No one here will ever discriminate, Mr. Hummel, I assure you."
"Well that is what the principal said, I figure I might as well believe it now, and speaking of the office, I need to go speak to them about some stuff. You staying here, Kurt, or coming." Mr. Hummel rose, and sent Kurt a questioning look.
I interrupted courteously, "If you wouldn't mind, I would love to introduce Kurt to my friends in the Warblers."
"That like Glee?"
"Yessir."
"Alright, that good with you kiddo?"
Kurt blushed, "Yes, I'll be fine dad."
"I'll escort him back to the main office after lunch, sir."
"They teach classes in manners here, kid?"
"No sir, but we are expected to be polite."
Mr. Hummel chuckled, "Huh..."
With that he gave Kurt a hefty pat on the shoulder, shook my hand again, and the working man made his was out of the cafeteria. I felt my whole demeanor melt from it's stiff ice.
"He sticks out like a sore thumb..." Kurt mumbled.
"No, he just sticks out. Nothing wrong with that."
"I never really got a chance to say much, but it's nice to see you Blaine Devon."
"Careful there," I nudged him playfully, "Don't want to be know always as Kurt Evan do you?"
"Oh...god, no..."
"Haha, so you ready to meet my friends, they have been staring at us for the past half hour anyways."
"Well then, I feel that I should."
We walked over to my usual table, where true to my word, everyone sat their staring fixedly at us, with cheesy grins on their faces.
Jeff found his manners and mind first, "Hi there, you must be Kurt, Blaine has told us all about you. I'm Jeff."
I flushed like a cake in an oven, while Kurt carried an expression of worry. I leaned over to him and whispered quietly, "Nothing major, just about you." And I reddened some more.
Kurt took Jeff's hand in greeting and seemed to relax a bit at my comment, but at the same time stiffen under the new eyes of possible judgement (not that there would be any).
"Hi, Jeff, it's nice to meet you."
Each Junior Warbler introduced themselves in turn and I took the lead for the remaining, "You remember Wes and David?"
"Ah, yes, I do."
"Nice to see you again Kurt!" David pumped Kurt's hand in excitement, quite the different David than the one Kurt had previously met.
"Hey there, Kurt." Wes was much more subdued.
After everyone knew everyone else, I pulled out a chair for Kurt (While Thad gave me ridiculous lover faces) and then sat down myself.
"So Kurt, do you sing?" Bless St. Trent for his easy conversations.
"I do, actually, at McKinley, which is why I was sort of spying...but not..." He trailed off at the end.
"Will you be auditioning for the Warblers then?" Nick's question was poised more towards Wes than Kurt.
Wes sighed, "As of current we are maxed at our 28 members, we will see what we can do for next semester though, we could change it to 32..."
"It's fine," Kurt waved it away but I could sense his disappointment.
Conversation eased from there, nothing major was discussed and the guys did a wonderful job of including Kurt. Kurt and I left lunch a bit early so I could get him back to his father and still be punctual to class. On the way through the exquisite halls, I struck up talk.
"So how is the family and everything?"
"It's...weird, but I think I can learn to like it..."
"And Finn?"
"Well, he's kind of like the brother I always needed. We were at Breadstix the other night and some guys were staring at me and he just glared at them, and they backed off. He's cool about me, though he can be kind of daft sometimes. Like my Dad and Carole are looking for a house for all of us, and we are still going to live in Lima so that Finn can continue at McKinley. Finn didn't know this though, he thought that we were all picking up and heading off for Westerville," Kurt laughs at the memory, "He was practically on his knees begging not to go to boarding school where, as he put it, there were no hot chicks."
"Sounds like a Merit Scholar..." I chuckled.
Kurt sarcasm dripped, "Oh, definitely."
•••
My phone vibrated me out of my doze.
Kurt: I GOT A SCHOLARSHIP TP DALTON!!!
I felt like a disney princess who just reached her happily ever after.
Me: Congratulations!!! So it's official that you're coming then?
Kurt: YES! Sorry for the all caps but I'M SO EXCITED.
Me: You should be! I am too.
Kurt: They even exempted me from the entrance exam "because of the seriousness of the circumstances" and my "exceptional high marks on past standardized tests"
Me: ...you lucky duck...
Kurt: I KNOW : P I'm also arriving Saturday morning to get settled in.
Me: Humble..have you been assigned a roommate yet?
Kurt: No...I hope they aren't to messy...
Me: Well I wouldn't get your hopes up, we are at a boy's school, nice boys, yes, but still boys.
Kurt: Is your roommate messy?
Me: No, I have Simon, he is probably neater than I am, and that is usually very hard to accomplish.
Kurt: Is he, like, cool with you being gay?
Me: Yeah, I mean we don't talk much, both of us keep to our selves mostly, but he is really nice and respectful. Don't worry about it, Kurt, everyone you meet is going to love you.
Kurt: I don't really believe THAT but I'll try not to freak out.
Me: See you Saturday morning then?
Kurt: of course : )
So now we are into emoticons? I could feel us drawing closer still.
•••
"Blaine, ohmygod, Blaine! Wake up! Wake uuuuup!" Someone was banging on my door with a hyperventilating jack hammer.
What the freak? Make it stop...
Honestly! What time is it anyways?
I rolled over, my head stuffed with the heavy fur of sleep, and tried to look in the blinding glare of my alarm clock.
4:48
WHAT?
Oh god, it must be important. I could feel the insane adrenaline begin to gather in my head, the waves of panic slowly flash-flooding my eyes.
I stumbled out across the room, yanking open the window as I went, and tried to stop from falling down in the ever tilting vertigo of morning.
Just make the horrible pounding stop.
I threw open the door to reveal a rumpled Wes Montgomery. His shinning night hair stuck up in peaks like a demented lion's mane. He had his cotton t-shirt on and Dalton plaid pants. Something was bad when Wes appeared in his pajamas.
"Wes, what the-"
"Sorry," he launched himself into my room, pacing around it in tightening spirals, "You were the closest room, I didn't want to wake too many people up."
"I think you woke EVERYONE up..." My voice growled with the gravel of darkness.
"It's terrible, so, so terrible. Our reputation is ruined, forever. They are probably going to disband us. Oh god! What if we can't compete? What if we all get expelled? Oh god, oh god, oh-" Westly's voice rose in anxiety. I though I was the one with the panic attacks.
"Wes, what-I don't-it's like 4:00-what is going on!"
"Oh! FREAK! Sorry Blaine! Don't panic, well I mean it's bad but...don't panic...god sorry..."
"WES!"
"Okay, okay. Well Joshua texted me, but my phone was off and I only got the message when my alarm went off-"
"At 4:30?"
"Yeah, I had to study..." My god Wes! "But yeah, Joshua texted that he heard from Yuki, who heard from Davis, who heard from Landon, who heard from Taylor, who saw it happen-"
"Wes! It's TOO early, WHAT HAPPENED!" God I wanted to strangle him.
"Anthony is getting expelled today."
WHAT!
"What?"
"He got in a fight with some freshman, well more like some freshman accidentally took Anthony's tie in the locker room and Anthony started yelling at him and lunged at him. The coach filed it as bullying and sent Anthony to the office. There is no doubt that he is getting expelled today."
Oh my god! The ONE person I really didn't like in this whole school was getting EXPELLED! I really couldn't be happier, ok that is a lie, I really could. Right now though? I was on a ferris wheel of euphoria.
"Um...so how does this affect me...?"
"Not really YOU, but the Warblers! We are short a member! And our reputation is TARNISHED! There hasn't been a Warbler expelled since 1982."
"You know that?"
"YES! It's so terrible."
"Wes, um..." might as well go for it "could Kurt be the 28th member...?"
"But...he's not a senior..,"
"He would fill in the space though..."
It looked like Wes was about to have another full blown rant, when he just stopped and looked at me. Suddenly all his energy seemed to fall to the floor, he sighed, "I'll talk to the council and see what we can do. If they approve the idea though, he will still have to try out and be voted in."
"Of course."
"Alright."
"Thank you Wes."
"Sure, and um...sorry for waking you up..."
"I'll get over it, " I chuckled, "You might have a hard time winning the whole hall back though."
"Yeah, I wasn't really thinking..."
"It's cool, man, I get it , "Wes nodded and turned to sweep out into the shadowy hallway, "And Wes?"
"Yeah?"
"Try sleeping in sometime."
•••
Warbler practice was a ruckus of crazy boys high on sugar (they had ice cream at lunch today, no one knows why, but I didn't question it. I mean, it's ice cream. It makes the world a better place). With solo tryouts and the gossip and ever improving rumors of Anthony (right now the story was that Anthony pulled out a dragon from his pants pocket and sprayed fire all over the freshman kid, almost burning down the school and killing us all. This kind of thought process id what comes with ice cream at lunchtime) the boys could hardly contain themselves. Anthony did get expelled, he moved out this morning, all of us were too kind and we pretended to be mournful, in reality though, I think we were all having a giant party in our heads.
Wes hit his gavel and raised his voice to try and be heard over the twittering clamor, "Alright, ALRIGHT! We lots a member yesterday to less-than-lovely circumstances, and no Henry, he did not have a dragon. We are now short one valuable member, "snickers ran through the crowd, "He may not have been the epitome of a Dalton character," always trust Wes to put it kindly, "But he was a valuable voice to the ensemble," sad, but true, "Now, Warbler Nick and Warbler Blaine have lost their understudy. The Council and I have concluded that the member with the most experience with solo singing should take the spot. As a senior, and much history of singing solos at competitions, Geovanni will be taking both understudy positions." Wes banged his gavel down with dramatics.
Geovanni was sitting at a table a few cushioned chairs down from me, "Congratulations Geo!" I whisper-yelled down to him. Earning a nod and grin.
"Our last point of business today, before we practice our group numbers, is solo tryouts for sectionals. We will proceed as we did Monday." Another bang of wood on ever-polished wood.
After another long round of tryouts, Sophomore Warbler Marcello won by an avalanche with his upbeat rendition of Lady Gaga's Edge of Glory (it was hard to fathom sometimes that I am in a room full of other Top-40 geeks, I usually feel like the only guy who likes that stuff) to which the Council ACTUALLY APPROVED THE SONG CHOICE! There wouldn't have to be any more voting! It felt so good to just concentrate on practicing for awhile.

Life was frighteningly good.