Chapter Twenty-Two:  I Kissed a Girl

“Can I print an early copy of your concession speech on my blog?” Jacob Ben Israel asked Kurt as he switched out books for his next class.

“Who says I’m ready to concede?” Kurt asked, wishing, not for the first time, that he could just make Jacob disappear.

“You’re trailing Brittany by seventeen points,” Jacob pointed out. “If this were a horse race you’d be glue.”

“The glue that keeps this school together when he gets elected president,” Rachel cut in, placing a comforting hand on Kurt’s shoulder.

“Oh my God, it’s Brittany! Madam President!” Jacob took off after Brittany.

“Stop worrying, Kurt. We have all day to change the minds of the voters,” Rachel said, stepping in front of him.

“There’s no point. The only way I’m going to win is by pulling a JFK,” Kurt said in defeat.

“You’re going to shoot Brittany?” Rachel exclaimed.

Kurt rolled his eyes. Of course that would be her first assumption. “No. When Kennedy ran against Nixon he had his mob buddies in Chicago stuff the ballot boxes so he won Illinois. That won him the presidency.”

“What? No, I can’t let you do this,” Rachel said, shaking her head. “Why don’t we perform a duet to strum up some support?”

“I have Kennedy’s impeccable hairline,” Kurt said.

“I know.”

“Why can’t I have his ends justify the means mentality? If I lose, my resume will remain blank. I won’t get into NYADA. I can’t accept that,” Kurt said with finality.

“You’re really considering cheating?” Rachel asked.

“What choice do I have?” Kurt asked sadly.

“Have you talked to Blaine about this?” Rachel questioned.

“No, but I will,” Kurt answered before he walked off to find his boyfriend. Blaine was already in class. Kurt slipped into the desk next to him. “There’s only one way I’m going to win this presidency.”

“How?” Blaine asked, biting back a sigh. He wished Kurt had dropped out of the race weeks ago, but he never would listen. He was far too stubborn for his own good.

“Stuff the ballot boxes,” Kurt said.

Blaine turned to face him. “You can’t cheat, Kurt.”

“Why not? I don’t see that I have any other options,” Kurt said with a sigh, leaning back in his desk.

“Look, think about this seriously. If you cheat and you get caught, you’ll be suspended. That goes on your transcript, Kurt. You won’t have any chance of getting into NYADA if the Dean of Admissions sees that,” Blaine reasoned with him.

Kurt bit his lip, closing his eyes to think. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right.”

Kurt moved his hand to the rubber band on his left wrist, snapping it against his wrist. Blaine watched him, a question in his eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“Dr. Madsen suggested this as an alternative to . . . you know,” Kurt said weakly.

Blaine opened his mouth to speak but the teacher called the class to order. Instead, he shot Kurt a sympathetic look before turning his attention to the teacher. The election was almost over. Maybe then things would get better.

K/B

The next day, Kurt listened to his stepbrother talk to Santana. He remembered how scary his own coming out had been, but his dad had been wonderful. Not many kids were as lucky as him. His dad had accepted him from the very beginning, without question. He was pulled out of his thoughts as Finn called his name. Kurt stood, following Blaine to the front of the room.

“Santana, there’s a song Kurt and I like to sing to each other in the car. We’d like to sing it to you today,” Blaine said with a smile.

“As much as I’d love to have two pretty ponies serenade me, I think we’d get further staging a gel-ervention for Blaine than singing lady music,” Santana said scathingly.

“I know it’s hard,” Kurt said before Blaine could retort. “It was hard for me too. But you can get through this.”

“If you could just stop being so defensive,” Blaine added.

“I’m trying,” Santana replied. “But your hideous bowties are provoking me.”

“Kurt, Blaine, why don’t you show us what you’ve got,” Will cut in before things could escalate.

Blaine nodded to Kurt. As Kurt began to sing, Blaine stepped back to let him have center stage.

Made a wrong turn, once or twice.

Dug my way out, blood and fire.

Bad decisions, that’s alright.

Welcome to my silly life.

Mistreated, misplaced, misunderstood.

Miss ‘No way, it’s all good,’

It didn’t slow me down.

Mistaken, always second guessing.

Underestimated, look, I’m still around.

Blaine stepped forwards, looking at Santana as he sang before he turned his attention to his boyfriend. Kurt knew how much this song meant to the both of them. He could tell that Blaine was singing it to him just as much as he was singing it to Santana.

Pretty, pretty please, don’t you ever, ever feel

Like you’re less than, less than perfect.

Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel

Like you’re nothing you are perfect to me.

Blaine stepped forwards as he rapped. Kurt harmonized his voice to Blaine’s as he danced behind his boyfriend. He was so glad that they could be themselves in the choir room, even if it was the only place like that in the entire school.

The whole world’s scared so I swallow the fear.

The only thing I should be drinking is an ice cold beer.

So cool in line and we try, try, try but we try too hard.

And it’s a waste of my time.

Done looking for the critics, cause they’re everywhere.

They don’t like my jeans, they don’t get my hair.

Exchange ourselves and we do it all the time.

Why do we do that?

Yeah!

I’m pretty, pretty, please!

Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel

Like you’re nothing, you are perfect to me.

Blaine pulled Kurt towards him as the song ended. He held Kurt close, waiting to hear Santana’s reaction.

“Thank you, guys, Finn especially. Now I get to add that to the list of horrible things I’ve been through in my life.” Santana clapped sarcastically.

Kurt didn’t speak, returning to his seat. Blaine waited until everyone had left to talk to him. He turned in his seat, placing a hand over Kurt’s knee.

“Are you okay?” Blaine asked tentatively.

“I wish Santana would stop being so negative about everything. We were just trying to help her!” Kurt exclaimed angrily.

“I know, love. But that’s her way of coping,” Blaine said.

“I know it is. I just wish she could cope without tearing other people down. I already feel like crap without having to listen to her snide remarks,” Kurt said. He pulled the rubber band away from his wrist, letting it snap back against his skin.

Blaine dropped his eyes to Kurt’s wrist, gasping when he saw what Kurt had done to himself. Blaine moved Kurt’s hand away, rolling up his sleeve so he could take a better look. The skin of Kurt’s wrist was bruised with an angry red welt where the rubber band rested.

“It looks worse than it is,” Kurt said instantly.

“Doesn’t it hurt?” Blaine asked stupidly.

“It does, but not enough.” Kurt didn’t give Blaine a chance to answer. He picked up his messenger bag and strolled out of the room.

Blaine followed him. “What do you mean ‘not enough?’”

“Exactly what you think I mean, Blaine,” Kurt said. With a sigh he turned to face his boyfriend. “Look, I’m just really worried about the election.”

“I know you are, love. But it’ll all be over tomorrow,” Blaine reminded him. Kurt nodded, continuing on his way to the parking lot. “Just promise me you’ll try to relax tonight.”

“I’ll try,” Kurt said before pressing a quick kiss to Blaine’s lips and climbing into his Navigator. He knew that despite his promise to Blaine, there was no way he would relax before the election was over.

K/B

Kurt was grateful when Finn pushed Jacob away from them in the gymnasium. He was already nervous enough without having to listen to Jacob’s ranting. The only thing keeping him from snapping the rubber band against his wrist was the fact they were in a public venue and everyone was sure to notice.

“I feel like a lamb waiting to be slaughtered,” Kurt groaned as he buried his face in his hands. He just wanted the day to be over with already. He needed to cut.

“It’s not over until all the votes are counted,” Finn reminded him. He placed a comforting hand on Kurt’s shoulder, squeezing it slightly.

“And you’re going to get loads,” Rachel added confidently. “Look! Quinn’s going to vote right now. I’m sure she’s voting for you.”

Kurt turned to look where Rachel had pointed, but couldn’t muster up any confidence. There was no way Quinn was voting for him, not when Brittany was crusading for women’s rights. The time trickled by until it was finally Kurt’s turn in the voting booth. He disappeared behind the curtain, glad that he could let his mask down for a second and really feel.

If I lose, there is no chance of me getting into NYADA. It’s not fair that the possibility of my dream coming true relies on how many people check a stupid box. With that thought, Kurt checked the box next to his own name before folding the slip of paper and dropping it into the voting box.

The urge to open his own veins was stronger than ever. Looking around, he didn’t see any of his friends. Rachel and Finn had already voted and returned to class, as had Blaine. Kurt was left alone. Biting his lip hard, he managed to hold back his tears long enough to disappear into the nearest bathroom. Once he was safe in the handicapped stall, Kurt dropped to his knees. He dug through his bag until he found his razorblade. Wrenching up his sleeve, Kurt brought the blade down to his wrist, right under the welt left from the rubber band. Kurt eased the blade into his skin, slicing away at his own flesh slowly.

The door to the bathroom swung open. Panicking, Kurt threw his blade back into his messenger bag, not bothering to wipe it clean. A knock sounded on the door to the stall. Kurt froze.

“Kurt, I know you’re in there,” Blaine said.

“Blaine,” Kurt sobbed. He scrambled to his knees, sliding open the latch and pulling the door open.

“It’s okay. You’re alright,” Blaine soothed. He dropped to his knees beside his boyfriend, pulling him into his arms. He held Kurt close to his chest. He felt Kurt’s tears soak through his shirt, dampening his skin.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Kurt managed to speak through his tears.

“It’s alright, love. I’m not mad. It’s okay,” Blaine promised. He rubbed small circles on Kurt’s back as he began to sing.

Guess you really did it this time,

Left yourself in your warpath.

Lost your balance on a tightrope.

Lost your mind trying to get it back.

Wasn’t it easier in your lunchbox days?

Always a bigger bed to crawl into.

Wasn’t it beautiful when you believed in everything?

And everybody believed in you?

Kurt’s tears ceased to fall as he listened to Blaine’s voice. He pulled away, wiping at his tears with his left hand. Blaine frowned when he saw the cut on Kurt’s wrist was still bleeding. He reached around Kurt to grab his messenger bag.

It’s alright, just wait and see,

Your string of lights are still bright to me.

Oh, who you are is not where you’ve been.

You’re still an innocent.

Still an innocent.

Blaine fished a piece of gauze out of Kurt’s messenger bag. He pressed it to the wound firmly. Kurt hissed in pain at the pressure, but he knew it had to be done to stop the bleeding. Blaine looked up apologetically, continuing to sing.

Did some things you can’t speak of.

But at night you live it all again.

You wouldn’t be shattered on the floor now.

If only you had seen what you know now then.

Wasn’t it easier in your firefly catching days?

When everything out of reach, someone bigger brought down to you.

Wasn’t it beautiful runnin’ wild till you fell asleep?

Before the monsters caught up to you.

Blaine pulled the gauze away, pleased to see the blood flow had lessened. He moved the gauze back in place, digging through Kurt’s bag for medical tape. Without a word, Kurt moved to hold the gauze while Blaine tore off several strips of tape. Blaine placed the tape over the gauze, holding it in place. He then pressed a quick kiss to Kurt’s wrist before opening his arms to his boyfriend.

It’s alright, just wait and see,

Your string of lights are still bright to me.

Oh, who you are is not where you’ve been.

You’re still an innocent.

It’s okay, life is a tough crowd.

32 and still growin’ up now.

Who you are is not what you did.

You’re still an innocent.

Kurt moved into Blaine’s arms. He buried his face in his neck, breathing in his scent. Blaine tightened his grip, holding him closer.

Time turns flames to embers.

You’ll have new Septembers.

Every one of us has messed up too.

Minds change like the weather.

I hope you remember.

Today is never too late to

Be brand new.

Kurt slowly relaxed as Blaine held him. He always felt safest when he was in Blaine’s arms, no matter what was going on. Blaine’s hand disappeared under Kurt’s shirt, rubbing up and down his back. Kurt smiled, drawing comfort from the skin-to-skin contact.

It’s alright, just wait and see,

Your string of lights is still bright to me.

Oh, who you are is not where you’ve been.

You’re still an innocent.

It’s okay, life is a tough crowd.

32 and still growin’ up now.

Who you are is not what you did.

You’re still an innocent.

You’re still an innocent.

Lost your balance on the tightrope.

It’s never too late to get it back.

Blaine’s hand disappeared from under Kurt’s shirt, smoothing it back out so there wouldn’t be any wrinkles. He pressed a kiss to Kurt’s hair before pushing him back gently. Blaine smiled sadly at him.

“I’m so sorry,” Kurt said softly.

“I know, baby. I’m not mad at you. I’m so proud of you for fighting the urges this long. I know you’ve wanted to cut but you kept fighting.”

“I gave up,” Kurt cut in, his voice harsh.

“What did I tell you before?” Blaine asked firmly. When Kurt didn’t answer, Blaine continued. “Don’t beat yourself up about this, Kurt. Relapse is a part of recovery.”

Blaine stood up, helping Kurt to his feet. Kurt smiled when he handed him his messenger bag, looking deep into his eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Blaine said with a smile.

“Forever?”

“Always.”

K/B

Kurt was surprised to see Figgins in the choir room. He hardly ever left his office. His first thought was that he had won the election, but he was wrong.

“There were some irregularities with the student council ballot boxes,” Figgins said once Burt had joined them in the room.

“What do you mean by ‘irregularities?’” Kurt asked. A sick feeling was already developing in his stomach. He wrapped one hand around his wrist, still sore from cutting earlier that day. He squeezed the wound hard, grounding himself.

“Kurt, you won by one hundred and ninety votes,” Coach Beiste said seriously.

“Well that’s great . . . right?” Burt said enthusiastically.

“There are more ballots than there are seniors,” Beiste said, picking up the ballots in question. “Kurt won by a suspiciously wide margin.”

“No, no. I-I didn’t do it. I didn’t cheat,” Kurt stammered. “I-I-I thought about it but-”

“What do you mean you thought about it?” Burt demanded, disappointment painting his tone.

“I-I thought about it because I wanted to win so badly and I was worried that I wouldn’t. But I didn’t cheat. I worked really hard on this,” Kurt said, looking between his dad, Beiste, and Figgins. “I didn’t cheat.”

“You must understand my position, Mr. Hummel,” Figgins said to Burt. “Who else would stuff the ballot boxes for your son to win, other than your son?”

“I understand if my son says he didn’t do it then he didn’t do it,” Burt said firmly.

“If no one comes forward I’m afraid I will be forced to suspend your son,” Figgins told him.

“Kurt didn’t do it. So find whoever did,” Burt said. He pulled Kurt from the room. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay,” Kurt answered immediately. “I need Blaine.”

“Go find him. We’ll talk more at home.” Burt embraced his son before watching him run off down the hallway.

Kurt was hurrying towards the choir room when he ran into Finn and Rachel. He knew there was no way his stepbrother and best friend would let him walk past them with tears streaming down his cheeks so he stopped.

“Someone stuffed the ballot boxes,” Kurt said. “They think I did it. If they can prove it I’ll be suspended.”

“Oh my God, Kurt,” Rachel said sadly.

“And I lost,” Kurt added weakly. “I lost the election; I lost the lead in West Side Story. I can forget about NYADA because they’ll never take me now. The worst part is that for a second, I really thought I won.”

“Kurt, I’m so sorry.” Rachel moved to hug him.

Kurt shrugged her off. He was already walking past her when he spoke. “I have to find Blaine.”

Kurt found Blaine in the choir room, waiting on him. Blaine stood when Kurt entered, frowning when he saw he was crying.

“Someone stuffed the ballot boxes. I lost and now I’ll be suspended,” Kurt explained quickly. He sank to the ground, his nails digging into the skin of his forearms. His nails found purchase and the skin broke. Blaine was by his side instantly and even as he was pulling him into his arms, Kurt was chanting, “I’m worthless. I’m hopeless.”

Blaine seized Kurt’s hands, holding them in his so he couldn’t hurt himself further. He pulled Kurt into his lap, letting his head rest over his heart. He rocked him slowly as he began to sing.

Here you are now.

Fresh from your wars,

Back from the edge of time.

And all that you were,

Stripped to the bone.

I thought you’d want to know.

For weeks, Blaine had tried to persuade Kurt to drop out of the race. But Kurt had never listened. Blaine knew that if Kurt didn’t win this would end badly. He had hoped he would win. But he hadn’t. Now Blaine was left to pick up the pieces of his broken boyfriend. Blaine was worried for him. He didn’t know how Kurt would take it if he didn’t get into NYADA.

When you feel the world is crashing,

All around your feet.

Come running headlong into my arms,

Breathless.

I’ll never judge you.

I can only love you.

Come now running headlong,

Into my arms.

Breathless.

The worst part for Kurt was thinking that he had won and then having it ripped away from him. If he didn’t get into NYADA, his dreams would die. He would never make it on Broadway. He was a failure. All he had was Blaine.

Lay down your guns,

Too weak to run.

Nothing can harm you here.

Your precious heart,

Broken and scarred,

Somehow you made it through.

I only ask that you won’t go again.

Kurt knew Blaine would always be there for him. Sitting in Figgins’ office, Kurt had wanted nothing more than to run straight into Blaine’s arms. That was the only place where he truly felt safe. Blaine was his everything. Blaine was the one constant in his life.

When you feel the world is crashing,

All around your feet.

Come running headlong into my arms,

Breathless.

I’ll never judge you.

I can only love you.

Come now running headlong,

Into my arms,

Breathless.

Breathless.

Blaine just wanted Kurt to be happy. He wanted all of his dreams to come true. And now when it seemed none of them would come true, Blaine was helpless to save them.

So glad to see you smiling.

So good to hear your laugh.

I think that you’ve found you even

Missed yourself.

I’m only asking this because I think that,

Truth be told.

Oh, you’ll never go again.

Again.

Blaine had faith in Kurt, despite everything happening at the moment. He knew there would be a day when Kurt was no longer hurting himself, no longer a danger to himself. He would be happy and he would be healthy. Blaine looked forward to that day more than anything.

When you feel the world is crashing,

All around your feet.

Come running headlong into my arms,

Breathless.

I’ll never judge you.

I can only love you.

Come now running headlong,

Into my arms.

Breathless.

Breathless.

Blaine pressed a kiss to Kurt’s hair as the song ended. Kurt seemed to have relaxed somewhat, though not completely. The entire situation was still very upsetting.

“How are you feeling?” Blaine asked when Kurt pulled away. “The same?”

“A little better,” Kurt confessed. “You always make me feel better.”

“Good. We will think of something and you will get into NYADA,” Blaine told him.

“You really think I can make it?” Kurt asked doubtfully.

“I do. And I’ll be with you every step along the way,” Blaine promised.

Kurt smiled. He knew Blaine meant it, and that meant more to him than anything.

K/B

Kurt followed Finn into Will’s office, surprised to see his father waiting for him. He expected his father wanted to discuss his losing the student council election, but he was surprised when he was handed a wine glass of sparkling cider.

“What’s going on?” Kurt asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Boys, you are looking at the newest congressman. I won the election,” Burt said proudly.

Kurt embraced his father. “That’s great, Dad!”

He moved to a vacant chair, staying out of the way while his dad, Finn, and Will celebrated. Kurt didn’t feel like celebrating. He was even more worried now. The stress of being a politician would not be good for his father’s heart. But regardless, he raised his glass to his father’s when Burt held his toward him. Kurt hid his worries away, knowing he should be happy for his father. Now they could really make a difference for other kids like him.

K/B

Sometimes, being the bigger person sucked. But Kurt knew it had to be done. So after Will and Shelby were done addressing the glee clubs, Kurt raised his hand.

“Mr. Schue?” Kurt asked. At Will’s nod, Kurt got to his feet. “As the son of the recently minted congressmen, and to dispel any lingering clouds of suspicion, I would like to personally and publicly congratulate President Brittany. The people have spoken and they want you, Brit. They want pixie sticks. Rule wisely. Rule fabulously.”

Brittany embraced him with a smile. “You’re still the most unicorn of them all.”

Kurt grimaced, though Brittany was too busy applauding him to notice. He took his seat and leaned back to whisper to Blaine, “Maybe we can put that on my NYADA application.”

“Don’t give up hope, ever. We’ll figure something out,” Blaine said, giving Kurt’s shoulder a nudge.

But Kurt was worried. His entire future had rested on him being elected student body president, and he had lost. Kurt was spared from sharing these worries with Blaine as Santana began to sing “Constant Craving.” He could completely relate to the song, though in a different way from Santana. All he wanted was for his dreams to come true, however unlikely they were. With this thought, he couldn’t keep himself from joining in on the last chorus, harmonizing his voice with Santana’s. As Brittany stood to embrace Santana, Rachel entered the room with tear-filled eyes.

“Rachel?” Will asked.

“I just told Principal Figgins that I rigged the election so that Kurt would win,” Rachel admitted in a shaky voice. “Kurt, please don’t hate me. You’re totally in the clear.”

Kurt was shocked. His mind raced to process the admonition. A part of him was touched that Rachel would do that for him, but the other part was angry that she had cost him the election.

“What did he say?” Finn asked, referring to Figgins.

“He put it on my permanent record and I’m suspended for a week,” Rachel said, twisting her hands together. “Also, he said I was banned from competing at sectionals.”

Kurt didn’t speak while the rest of the club reacted. Once everyone had left, Rachel approached him.

“Please don’t hate me,” she repeated.

“I don’t hate you,” Kurt said slowly. “But I am upset. I know you only did this to make up for running against me in the first place, but I lost, Rachel. I lost because you stuffed the ballot boxes. I just . . . I just need some time.”

Kurt left the room, not surprised to see Blaine waiting for him in the hallway. Blaine fell into step beside him as they headed towards the library.

“Shouldn’t you be heading home?” Blaine asked.

“I have to finish my NYADA application,” Kurt answered. “Though it’s probably pointless.”

“No it’s not,” Blaine said. He sat next to Kurt at one of the tables. He helped him fill out the application. Once they were done, Kurt slid the paperwork into an envelope, ready to be mailed to New York. “You know if you don’t get in there are plenty of other schools for you to choose from.”

“I know,” Kurt said. His mind flew to the Ohio University application he had already mailed off. He thought about telling Blaine, but kept it to himself. He didn’t want to jeopardize anything when he didn’t even know if he had made it into NYADA or not. Instead he asked, “Where are you applying?”

“I applied to Columbia, Cornell and NYU. But I really want to go to NYU,” Blaine admitted.

“You’ll get in,” Kurt said instantly.

“We both will,” Blaine replied.

Kurt didn’t speak but managed a small smile. He wished he had the same amount of confidence as Blaine. He knew he wouldn’t be able to relax until he had heard back from NYADA. Until then, he just had to wait and hope.