Sept. 10, 2012, 3:02 a.m.
Life of a Wingman: Chapter 8
T - Words: 2,788 - Last Updated: Sep 10, 2012 Story: Complete - Chapters: 13/13 - Created: Jul 02, 2012 - Updated: Sep 10, 2012 966 0 1 0 0
After Mattie’s birthday, things between Blaine and I went back to normal. Well, as normal as it ever was between the two of us. He and I started our trips to the park again, reading to each other under the great maples and the elm trees.
With all this attention, it was as if my world was being turned upside down.
One weekend, my dad and Carole went out of town on business and would be gone for a few days. When I told Blaine about this, he was outraged that I had to be home alone. I tried to explain to him that I had Finn, but of course, that wasn’t good enough for Blaine. And that sparked a sleep over.
Blaine and Mattie came over that night, sleeping bags in hand. Pillows and blankets discarded, the three of us piled into the kitchen and baked chocolate chip cookies. The smell of cooking sugar and flour drew Finn from his room. I promised him a few if he helped clean up.
The entire exchange was slightly awkward due to the fact Blaine couldn’t stop glaring at Finn. Ever since the incident with the slushie in the hallway, Blaine hadn’t forgiven Finn for not protecting me like a brother should have.
We talked about the upcoming Nationals; what song we would sing after Rachel had her solo. I admitted to them that I would give just about anything to have a solo one day. Blaine gave me a strange look that I could not decipher at that.
When the cookies had cooled and Finn and Mattie had effectively eaten half of the batch on their own, we retired to the living room with bowls of popcorn for a movie. Blaine made sure to make fun of me for not putting butter or salt on mine.
“It’s like popped corn on the cob!”
“With half the calories,” I sniped, settling into his side.
Finn made a comment about inviting Rachel to our movie night in fear of what she might do it she found out we were doing something without her, which Blaine clearly was not a fan of. After convincing Finn that this was strictly a “boys night” he seemed to relax a little and pay attention to the movie.
When the credits began to roll, I decided it was time to call it a night. I led the Anderson brothers to the guest room to help set up their beds. Blaine pouted at the idea of having to sleep in the guest room instead of with me in my room. Laughing, I scolded him, explaining that both of our brothers were in the house and even though nothing would have happened in the first place, it was still highly inappropriate. He laughed in response but caved in. As Mattie snuggled into bed and I turned to leave, Blaine caught me by the hand, stopping me. He gave my hand a kiss and wished me a good night. I knew my face must have been flushed from the way Blaine looked at me then.
It felt like Blaine was fixing something broken inside me, though what that was, I didn’t know.
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But as wonderful as he was, there were still things that even Blaine couldn’t fix.
Later that week, after what seemed like an eternity without confrontation, my lucky streak ended.
I was headed to my locker after helping Rachel finish the last of her math homework before class. Dreamy eyed, I thought of the plans Blaine and I had made for the night; a trip to the Lima Bean and then over to his house to practice for Nationals, a.k.a., doo-wopping behind Rachel as she brought the house down. Even though I wasn’t thrilled about standing behind Rachel and letting her soak up the spotlight, I was used to it and I was actually excited for the competition itself.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, I was shoved into the lockers behind me; my head knocking into the cold, hard steel. I felt the collar of my shirt being grabbed into a meaty fist and I knew it could only be one person.
“Hello, Lady Lips,” Nicky Maris sneered, only inches from my face. In the hand that wasn’t holding me up against the wall was the all too familiar red Big Gulp cup, filled to the brim with purple slushie.
“Hello, Knuckle Dragger,” I countered, though in hindsight, I probably was in no position to be making cracks at the boy who was threatening me with a frozen iceberg slap.
“You watch you mouth, filth.”
“Only if you’ll wash yours. Seriously, Maris, you should invest in stronger toothpaste or at lea-”
Maris adjusted his grip on me, using his elbow to throw me into the lockers a second time. That time hurt more.
“Are you talking back to me?” he barked.
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” I gasped. Why couldn’t I learn to keep my mouth shut?
Nicky’s eyes seemed to flash with hatred. He abandoned the slushie, dropping it to the ground in a sticky splash.
“I’m going to split you in half, Hummel!” Nicky bellowed, rearing back a fist. Before I could make a crude remark about “splitting me in half”, Nicky’s hand was stopped and he was spun around, dropping me completely.
“Hey, Guido!” Blaine said, gripping Maris’ hand tightly. Both Puck and Mike flanked him from behind with arms crossed and authoritative expressions. Tina stood next to Mike, a glare on her usually kind face. “Why don’t you pick on somebody your own size, eh?”
Blaine swiftly moved between Maris and I. Mike and Puck stood on either side of Nicky, Tina next to me.
“Who the hell are you to talk to me like that, Hobbit?” Nicky growled.
“Ooooh, nice insult. I haven’t heard that one before, Colossus,” he shot back.
Maris took a swing at Blaine who quickly dodged it with his smaller, quicker, movements.
“Oh hey, Gigantor, I think dropped something.” I watched as Blaine bent down, seemingly picking something off the floor. “Make sure you don’t loose it again, big guy.” Blaine flipped him off, pretending to pull his finger off and toss it to Maris. Blaine turned to me then with soft eyes, running his hands down my arms as if to check if I was all right. Though I knew I shouldn’t have, I couldn’t help but blush a bit. I saw Tina look at me and her smile was one that held compassion and love.
“So you’re a gay homo, too?” the taller boy hissed.
Blaine spun around to face him, fire in his eyes. “I am loving the second grade insults here, Nicky, really, you are just so clever. And yeah, so what if I’m gay? Saying so isn’t even an insult. It is an observation. If we’re going to state the obvious, I’ve got curly hair too and you’re a homophobic prick. Yeah, I may be gay, but at least I have the decency to stick up for those I love which is more than I can say for you, asshole.”
“Who the fuck do you think you are, faggot?” he bellowed.
Blaine punched him in the gut, making Nicky cough and double over, clutching his stomach.
“I’m Blaine Fucking Anderson and if I ever catch you picking on Kurt or calling anyone by that name again, I will personally make it my mission to make your life a living hell. Let’s go, Kurt,” he snapped, grabbing my wrist and leaving Nicky alone to moan in pain. I looked back over my shoulder to see Tina, with Mike’s arm around her, walking in the other direction, giving me a smile.
Blaine pulled me out of the hallway and into the empty choir room, only releasing my hand when the door shut tightly. I watched as Blaine paced back and forth, still fuming from the interaction.
“Why did you do that?” I asked him, rubbing the wrist he had been tugging on.
“What do you mean?” he said, visibly relaxing at the sound of my voice.
“Why did you stand up for me like that?”
Blaine gave me an incredulous look. “Because I’m a decent human being and I know that no one should be treated that way you have.”
“But no one has ever stuck up for me like that before.”
“Well they should!” he snapped. “I know how terrible it is to have people pick on you mercilessly nonstop for years and years with no one even batting an eye at the horrors they see.”
I understood then, simply by the emotion in his voice. Blaine, this perfect, wonderful, amazing boy in front of me, had been treated the same way.
“Blaine,” I moved toward him, taking his shaking hands in mine. All this time, Blaine had been helping me overcome my problems, my bullies, my insecurities, but I had never even thought of him, how he might have a past as well. Blaine had been hurt too.
“Can I ask you something?” I said cautiously.
He nodded.
“Why did you move to this school?”
He looked away from me at first, pulling me down to one of the chairs to sit beside him, like he was remembering something far away.
“I wasn’t always Mr. Popular, you know,” he started. “Back at my other school, I didn’t have many friends. I had come out in the tenth grade and at first; I thought everything was going fine. My family was more than accepting of me and my friends didn’t treat me any differently, not right away. Everything was, well, normal. But soon, as time went on, the bullying started. It wasn’t bad at first, just a few shoves and names here and there. But by my junior year, it had escalated. My friends started to distance themselves from me, not wanting to be associated with “the gay kid”. They thought I might prey on them or something. Because of my height, they locked me in lockers, they jumped me behind the school or in the parking lots, they beat me on school buses. I hated it. I hated them, but I never hated myself. I knew who I was, I knew that I was right in who I was, and through all their insults and battery, I would not change who I was.”
Blaine’s tone darkened and I couldn’t help but squeeze his hand tightly. “Then, on my junior prom, I asked one of my old friends, Quinton, to go with me.” He swallowed dryly. “We didn’t even make it inside. They jumped up in the parking lot. They beat my date and I and called us terrible names. They beat us so severely, if a teacher hadn’t come to investigate the noise, I don’t know if I would be sitting here right now. Quinton was in the hospital for weeks recovering.”
“And you?” I asked quietly.
“A few broken ribs, pelvis, nose, a ruptured spleen, and a lot of stitches later, I made it out in about a few months.”
“Blaine-”
“When I got out of the hospital, my parents transferred me here to get away from all that. They didn’t want me in that environment any longer. It was kind of strange, really.” He smiled softly. “People here thought I was the coolest thing since sliced bread.”
“Blaine, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know,” I whispered, leaning against his shoulder.
“Don’t be sorry, Kurt. It’s okay. I just- I know what you’re going through. I know what it feels like to have no one willing to help you and I never want that for you.” He looked at me with big, shining eyes. “I never want you to feel alone, because you’re not. You’re not alone, Kurt.”
“And you’re not either, Blaine,” I smiled. “You’ve got me, whether you like it or not.”
“I think I like that.”
I looked deep into his eyes and I knew that that was the truest thing in his heart. What I didn’t see was Rachel Berry watching from the doorway, her eyes narrowing as she spun on her heel and darted down the hallway.
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The next morning, Rachel texted me in all caps about an important meeting we needed to have. I made my way to the choir room as quickly as I could. I had expected it to be the usual; something about NYADA, or Finn, or an outfit she needed fixing.
When I walked into the room I found Rachel standing with her back to me, her whole frame tense. There was no sheet music, no dress malfunction, nothing. It set me on edge a bit. What could she possibly need?
“Kurt.”
“Hey Rachel, your text sounded urgent. What’s the matter?”
She turned to face me, her face hard. She laced her fingers together as she slowly moved toward me.
“Kurt, I know there is only a week until Nationals and I know that there are other things going on in your life right now that annoyingly enough do not include me, but I have something to tell you.”
“Rachel, your drama queen is showing again,” I smirked.
“Kurt, this is important.”
Oh no. This was about Blaine, wasn’t it? She was going to order me to never see Blaine again. She was going tell me to stop being friends with him and shun him and I could never do that, not after what he had told me only the day before. I was never going to make him feel alone.
“I want you to take my solo at Nationals,” she shot out, her words almost jumbling together.
My eyebrows shot up to my hairline, my eyes wide. “Wait, what?”
“I-I want you to sing for us, Kurt,” she mumbled.
I was stunned. This didn’t make any sense.
“What?” I repeated. It was all I could say.
“Don’t make me say it again,” she pleaded.
“B-but why? You love the spotlight! You’ve been working on your solo for weeks. I’ve heard you, I’ve helped you practice! Why?”
“I’m not supposed to tell you,” she said, crossing her arms and looking away from me. It was clear she was not comfortable telling me this, but I had to know.
“Rachel, come on. We’re best friends, we tell each other everything!”
She smiled a little at that. “Fine, but you can’t let him know I told you.”
Him?
“Blaine came and talked to me.”
My eyes widened to the size of baseballs.
“Blaine?”
“He said that you should be the one to have the solo at Nationals,” she explained, still not looking up at me. “At first I argued with him. I told him that he was being ridiculous and unfair. But he told me that I was the unfair one. That I was taking so much of the spotlight that I was snuffing out those around me. Normally, I don’t care about those sorts of things; it’s the best way to get ahead. But when he told me about you, how you would give anything to, just once, be in the spotlight, to be a star, a Leading Lady in your own right, I couldn’t really say no.”
Blaine. Blaine had done this. Blaine had somehow gotten Rachel to give me my chance in the lead. Blaine.
My mind was a jumbled mess. I didn’t understand what I was feeling or what I was thinking. The only thing that rang clear in my head was Blaine. Beautiful Blaine. Wonderful, smart, funny, gorgeous, perfect Blaine.
“I know that feeling,” Rachel continued. “I know the love of the spotlight. And, well, what kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t let you have your time there too?”
I gave Rachel the biggest hug I had ever given her, thanking her profusely. I needed to prepare. I had to do something for him like he had done for me. Something for Blaine. Something perfect for perfect Blaine.
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Comments
im waiting for the other shoe to drop. i dont trust rachel.