CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

MONDAY

KURT

I had spent a good portion of the morning running errands and another hour at the gym with my personal trainer, but now it was nearly four in the afternoon and the cryptic email from Blaine was still bothering me.

From: Blaine Anderson
Subject: 25554160-B

This message contains no content.

Why would Blaine send me something without anything in the body of the email? And what exactly did he send me anyway? I would have asked him, but I was afraid that either he sent whatever it was to me on accident or it was some type of weird test. I was never very good at puzzles, so this particular one was incredibly annoying because my curiosity was starting to get the best of me but I was too proud to ask and too frustrated to figure it out myself.

Plus Blaine was coming back from Atlanta today. I wanted to email him again once he got back to try and figure out when we can go on our date. Sure, it might be a little presumptuous of me to assume that he wanted to go out with me, but he did allude to the fact that he wanted to plan a romantic date and who was I to turn the man down?

Normally I would ask Wes, but that guy really was driving me insane with this whole dating business. I get that he was just trying to help, but he knows to just let me do my own thing and I'll let him know the details if and when I'm ready. But coming home to the Spanish Inquisition every time I go out was really grating on my last nerve. Must be a straight guy thing.

But if I didn't figure out what was going on with this email soon, I was going to lose it.

Maybe...

I flipped my laptop open - avoiding the email tab that I'd left open the night before - and logged into Skype. With any luck...

Success!

I clicked on her name twice and a call window popped open.

"KURT!" I heard through my speakers as the picture came into view.

"You look lovely today, Mercedes," I replied when I could see one of my closest friends come through on her webcam. "I love the waves and ombre thing you have going on."

She ruffled her hair. "Thanks sweetie. How are you? It has been too long since we last spoke, Mr. Hummel."

"I know, I know! This is me remedying the situation and apologizing profusely for not calling you sooner. I've been good... busy. How are you?"

She smiled. "Doing great, Kurt. Loving Chicago. You'll have to come and visit me soon. I just have to take you to Boys Town."

I laughed. "If you insist." I looked away for a moment, still unsure if I should ask Mercedes for her help in figuring out this email. Mercedes was one of the most intelligent people I'd ever known and she had a knack with puzzles so I figured she could help. But soliciting her help may require me to tell her what was going on with Blaine. It wouldn't be so bad, but after shutting people out of my romantic life for so long, it's not like I was eager to divulge information about this guy who I hadn't even been on a date with to one of my closest friends. "I have to admit, I'm calling you for selfish reasons," I said, finally looking at her through my computer screen again.

She quirked an eyebrow in interest. "I'd hardly say calling to talk to one of your friends is selfish, Kurt."

"No, no. I mean, I am calling to chat with you of course, but I also need your help with something."

"Is everything okay?" she said, voice full of concern.

I shrugged her off. "Of course, it's nothing like that. I just... I have a conundrum that I need help with."

"A conundrum! Ooh, do tell! And snaps on the $2 word," she exclaimed as she cupped her chin in her hands, eager for me to continue.

I laughed. "Well, I got a really weird email but I don't know what it means."

"Who's the email from?"

I blushed. "Uh..." Dammit for having really pale skin with a blush always making me look like a bright red tomato; gave me away every time. And Mercedes knew me too well to just let it go.

"KURT! Is this email from a GUY?! A guy who might LIKE you? What's his name?" she practically yelled at me through the computer. I chuckled when I saw the picture had frozen a bit during her outcry and an image of her looking slightly crazy with her mouth wide open in surprise.

"Yes, it's from a guy" I replied. "His name is Blaine, but that's all I'm telling you right now. But his email... I don't know if it's some kind of code or something and it's driving me nuts."

She was clapping her hands giddily at the thought of me getting an email from a guy. "Kurt, why didn't you just ask him what the email means? You could have replied and asked what it meant!"

I rolled my eyes. "That would mean admitting I didn't understand and you know I just can't have that," I groaned. "I want to seem like I'm intelligent and witty and... I didn't want him to think I'd missed out on the joke or whatever it is."

"But Kurt, you are all of those things. Asking him what it meant wouldn't mean admitting defeat or anything like that," she cooed kindly.

"I mean, I know that. But..."

"You totally want the upper hand," Mercedes added with a wink. "It's okay, Kurt. You don't fool me. I've known you long enough. Alright, why don't you forward his email to me?"

I shook my head. "I've also knownyoua long time and I know if I did that, you would Google him for hours to try to get the deets. No way. I'll read it to you."

She giggled. "Alright, alright, you caught me. But I won't be able to write it down fast enough I'm sure."

I shook my head. "Not true. It's a very short email."

"Okay, shoot," she said as she grabbed a pen and paper from somewhere off-screen.

"Ready?" She nodded. "25554160 hyphen B."

She scribbled away on the paper before looking back up into the camera. "Got it, what's next?"

"That's it."

"That's it?"

"I'm dyin' if I'm lyin'" I added with a laugh. "And that's not even the body of the email. That's the subject line. But it's all that he sent."

She stared at the paper for a minute and scribbled some more things on the paper. I took the time that she spent scribbling investigating my nail bits until I heard her gasp over the call.

"You said his name is Blaine, right?"

I looked at her quizzically. "Yes...?"

She was beaming now with a smug grin and a glint in her eyes. "I think I know what it is, but first, I need you to tell me more about Blaine."

"Mercedes that's not fair! You know I don't want to talk about it!"

"I don't know, I think it's a pretty fair trade considering how much you wanted to figure out what this means."

I groaned. "Ugh, you better have it figured out."

She laughed. "Oh, I do. But I'm holding out until you dish."

"Fiiiine," I replied, feigning annoyance. "So, Blaine is this guy I met... well, met at a show in Brooklyn a few weeks ago."

"What theater is in Brooklyn?" she asked.

"No, not that kind of show. A concert, really," I corrected.

"Oh. What kind of music?"

"Rock, I guess," I continued. "Anyway, he works in the music industry signing bands and stuff and he actually found me on this online dating site and we kept email..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Back it up. Online dating site?"

I blushed. "Oh. Uh. I forgot I didn't tell you that. Now that I'm in New York full-time, I wanted to try dating again now that..." I took a breath, "I'm done being alone, Mercedes. And this was one way to remedy it that didn't involve going to gay bars and getting picked up by sweaty guys in poly-blend shirts."

She laughed. "I'm sorry that you felt lonely, Kurt. But I'm glad you took the initiative to try to change that for yourself. I wish I had that courage."

I tucked away her response before continuing. "Well, it seems to have paid off with Blaine. Although I went on a date with another guy before I met Blaine and though he was a total dreamboat, he was too much like William and we know that wasn't going to happen two times."

"Thank god for that!" she exclaimed. She had been there for my heartbreak post-William and had a vendetta against the guy that she had met only once when she had visited me the summer he and I were together. "So things are going okay with Blaine?"

"I guess. We haven't been on an official date yet, but we've been talking over email and Freechat for a couple of days. But he's really... great," I said with a smile.

"You must really like him," she said as my attention snapped back to the warm smile on her face.

"I think I do. Or I will whenever I figure out what his email means!" I said, diverting her attention back to the matter at hand. Or, at least, the matter at hand in my head.

"I guess a deal is a deal, but I don't want to outright tell you what I think it is," she suggested with a wink.

"Mercedes! That's not fair!"

"Oh hush. Think of it as me giving you guidance so you can figure it out for yourself."

I rolled my eyes. "Okayyy, just help a brotha out!"

She giggled as she wrote something on a fresh sheet of paper. With one last flourish of the pen she flipped over the paper and held it up to the camera. "What does this mean to you?"

The paper in her hand read 5) 555 5171

"It's a phone number. An Ohio phone number, to be exact."

She nodded. "Right. And how did you know what the 5 meant?"

"Well, most of us either have 419 or 567 area codes, so that 5) denotes the area..." I sat with my mouth gaping as Mercedes lit up with excitement; knowing that something had clicked. "Oh my god."

"Oh my god is right!" she yelled.

"It's his phone number! The 2 is for 212 and the rest are the seven digits of making up a phone number! And the B is his sign off for his name! Oh my GOD! He gave me his phone number! Mercedes, Blaine Anderson gave me his phone number!"

She laughed heartily as I continued my giddy dance in my chair. "I'm glad to have helped you out sir."

"Oh my god, thank you thank you thank you so much! Sorry about my manners, I'm just overwhelmed with ...this!" I was shaking my cell phone with excitement. But as quickly as the excitement came, it escaped my face when I realized that now that I had his number, I had to figure out what to do with it. "What do I do?" I muttered to Mercedes.

"Uh, you call him? Actually, I take that back. Why don't you text him first? I know that you're probably a little... shy with this whole actually-calling-him thing, but we live in the 21st century and I'm sure the guy has text messaging. That way you'll acknowledge that you have his number and you'll still get to talk to him, but you won't have to worry about the potential awkwardness that would result with trying to come up with conversation for a few minutes," Mercedes contended.

I grinned. "I can definitely get into that." I thought for a minute. "But I still don't know what to say!"

She rolled her eyes. "Just say 'hi! I have your number! Text me back!"

"That's not flirty enough Mercedes," I snorted.

"Well now, that response is a far cry from what you would have said in high school," she said with a chuckle. "I can't be the one to flirt for you but just don't over think it. Just say hi and see how he is and let it go from there. That's what I'd do." She glanced to the side of the screen before speaking again. "Sorry but I have to go. Can we not let so long come between our chats?"

"Of course," I replied with a giggle. "Why don't you call me next time?"

"Deal. Bye honey."

"Bye!" I waved as she exited out of the conversation. I clicked the laptop closed and grabbed my phone sitting on the table.

Keep it simple, I kept telling myself over and over again in my head as I typed out a text to Blaine. I grinned as I completed the simple but loaded text and clicked send, hoping the recipient on the other end was as thrilled as I was to have each others digits in our possession.

BLAINE

"We're now beginning our descent into New York's JFK airport. Please stow all tray tables and bring all seats to their full upright position."

I groaned as I brought my seat up. Today had been awful. Well, not really. The time spent with Jeremy and his staff at his studio was great and Jeremy and I had fallen into a quick friendship-esque bond, but the whole thing with Kurt had left a looming cloud of doubt over my head. The emotionally invested-ness I was experiencing was already kicking in and he and I hadn't been on a date yet. Thank god I wasn't telling Santana about Kurt yet; she'd be giving me hell.

When the flight attendant passed by, I chucked my empty cup in the bag, the last remaining remnants of the Bloody Mary I'd ordered on the flight. Normally I wasn't one to drink on flights - especially such a short one - but I felt like I needed to take the edge off a little and since you can't smoke on a plane, this would have to do. I only smoked when I was stressed out and I was stressed in leaps and bounds.

I was afraid that I was in the stage where I had freaked Kurt out and he and I hadn't even met. Perhaps giving him my phone number was too forward and I was already coming on too strong. I audibly groaned again, earning a flicker of annoyance from the older lady sitting in the seat on the window, but I didn't care.

Today had been frustrating as hell and I was dangerously close to forgetting all about it by sinking into some greasy Chinese food and watching Harry Potter and forgetting about the world.

I didn't even notice that we had landed and were taxiing into the gate until the woman next to me looked at me expectantly as the plane went to a stop. Startled, I stumbled up from my seat and jumped into the aisle as the fasten seat belt sign dinged off. The formerly silent plane was now filled with murmurs of people on their phones; telling friends or family that they'd arrived or discussing connecting flights.

Without thinking about it, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and turned it on. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em I guess. Once the home screen pulled up, I shoved my phone back in my pocket at smiled bleakly at the woman who had occupied the aisle seat as I opened the overhead compartment and pulled out my bag.

Somehow, I had made my way from the plane, through the terminal, all the way to the taxi stand and found myself in a cab that, apparently, was headed towards my apartment. After staring out the window for what felt like an eternity, I went to check the time on the TV screen that was adhered to the seat in front of me, only to realize that it was out of order. I dug into my pocket and unlocked the screen and saw the time.

6:02pm

But directly under that was a notification.

917 555 9131

Text Message

Curiously, I swiped my thumb to the side of the touchscreen, opening the message.

Hi Blaine! It's Kurt. That was quite a puzzle you left me. ;) Hope to learn more puzzling things about you soon.

The breath was sucked out of my chest. The thoughts I had about coming off too strong were washed away. I had been too cryptic with my email that Kurt hadn't initially figured out what it meant! Oh thank god. That's so much better than the alternative.

I readied my fingers under his text as I typed away.

Hi Kurt! Sorry about that. I wasn't sure if you wanted my number or if you wanted to keep chatting via email. How was your Monday? -B

I quickly added him to my contacts and before I could even save his information into my phone, another text came through. Damn, this kid was fast with his fingers.

My brain stuttered at the thought. God, I'm a pervert.

Trust me, if I didn't want your number, you wouldn't hear from me again. So since you did, I must have wanted it. ;) Monday was good, nice to have a day off. How did everything go today? How was your flight? -K

I smiled. It was nice that he remembered my itinerary. I bet Cooper didn't even realize I had returned and I'm sure Santana was probably only partially aware of what I was up to while I was in Atlanta anyway. I had told her a billion times, but her retention of details and dates was horrific.

Things went well, will probably head back to Atlanta post-recording in January. The flight was good, although I spent a lot of it wondering if a certain Mr. Hummel would contact me. -B

I hit send and immediately regretted saying that. My text basically suggested that I had spent the time waiting to hear from him; like I was pining after him. I mean, Iwas. But it's not like he needed to know that right now.

Before I could over think, another text hit my screen.

Well next time, just tell me what it is. If I'd known, you would have heard from me last night. I don't like to keep a good man waiting. -K

Dear lord, Kurt was going to be the end of me. He was a professional flirt or something. Not that I minded because Jesus, it was hot. Having that kind of attention from a man as attractive as Kurt was definitely a good thing.

I felt things... rousing... at the thought of Kurt before another buzz from my phone pulled me away from a potentially embarrassing moment. Clearly my lack of physical intimacy was making me act like a schoolboy and that was not what I wanted to happen.

So Blaine, how does it feel to be back in Yankee territory? What was your impression of Atlanta? -K

Him turning off the flirting helped pull the blood back to my head as I replied.

It was great. Midtown was perfect and the park nearby was gorgeous in the fall. I bet there are a ton of festivals there. I'm glad I'll be going back at some point; I'd like to see more of the city. -B

Kurt replied almost instantly.

It really was great when I lived there. And surprisingly tolerant, too. I hope you get to see more of it soon. It's no New York, but it's alright I guess. -K

Is it too forward to want Kurt to be my personal Atlanta tour guide? I shook away the thought of Kurt and I traipsing around Atlanta hand-in-hand and replied.

I hope to see more of it soon, but there's something... rather someONE that I'd rather see first. -B

God, I'm horribly cheesy right now. I hope he would appreciate...

Oh, gee. And who would that be? Your crazy cat lady neighbor? I bet she's missed you. -K

I laughed, earning a grunt from the driver who had remained silent until this point. Kurt was quick on his feet and I bet he could really give Santana a run for her money with his quips. God, when they meet each other, it's going to be crazy.

Before replying to Kurt, I checked my calendar for the next few days. Tomorrow we had our big meeting but that didn't start until 10:30. I wonder...

No, although I'm sure Mrs. Lewis did miss me. No, you actually. I know it's short notice, but what are you doing tomorrow morning at 8:30? -B

Those moments between my text and his response felt like torture. Since he and I, apparently, both had iPhones, I could see him typing a reply, then erasing it, then typing again. My constant fear of coming on too strong emerged again but was silenced with Kurt's reply.

Nothing. What did you have in mind? -K

I beamed. Yes!

Coffee? At the Starbucks at 49th and 7th? -B

I saw him typing a reply and squealed at the response.

It's a date. :) -K