After Calculus, I headed to Rachel’s locker, as always, to see if she needed me for anything. Luckily, she had a dinner date with Finn, so she would be preoccupied this evening. After a quick check of her outfit and a change of purses (at my suggestion), she kissed my cheek and strolled down the hallway to meet Finn.

I waved at her one more time and darted in the opposite direction to my locker. Blaine was already leaning against it, one leg crossed over the other, arms folded over his muscular chest, long, full eyelashes fanned out over his tanned cheeks.

God he was beautiful.

“Hey, there stranger,” I said as I approached.

His honey eyes shot open. A look of concern crossed his perfect features.

“Is that what I am to you? Just a stranger?”

“Blaine please,” I scoffed as I knelt down, pulling open my locker and putting my books away.

“Is that all I am, though? Just a stranger to you?”

I looked back up at him. His mouth was pulled down into a small frown and his brow was tightly knit over those golden eyes. Why did he have to have golden eyes?

“You’re serious.”

“Of course I’m serious.”

“Blaine, it’s just an expression and I only just met you a few hours ago.” Blaine’s frown deepened as he looked to the ground. Why did this guy care so much about getting to know me? “Look, I have to be realistic, would you feel better if I said we were acquaintances?”

Blaine tried to keep the smile that was creeping onto his lips a bay but was failing miserably. “At least with “acquaintance” there is something to work with. Something that can grow.”

I blushed, turning back to my locker and put away my last book. Blaine leaned down behind me, looking into my locker.

“Wow.”

“What?”

“You’re locker. It’s so full. Organized, sure, but full!”

“Yes, well, it’s more than just a locked bookshelf for me.”

“Clearly. It’s more like a bookshelf, a desk, a bathroom burrow, and a- a closet? Wow, you’ve got a lot of clothes in there. How did you manage to hang them all up?”

“My dad is pretty handy when it comes to hardware. I guess I inherited that a little bit.”

“Impressive.”

I snickered, picking out my favorite Marc Jacobs jacket that made my hips look awesome and shutting the door.

“Come on, this is supposed to be a tour of the town, not my locker.”

“I’m surprised how small your public library is,” Blaine said later that afternoon.

We had taken my car around the entire town that afternoon, passing by all the hot spots; the mall, Breadstix, the Dairy Queen. That’s about all there was in this town. I made sure to stop at the library. I knew Blaine would like it there, even if the selection was so small.

We sat at the Lima Bean where I introduced Blaine to the best coffee in all of Ohio.

“True, but they’re really nice there and they’ll do their best to find any book you want from another library in the state,” I explained, taking another sip of my grande nonfat mocha latte. Blaine followed suit, taking a sip of his medium drip.

“I have to say, though, I think you make up for it with this place,” he said, gesturing to the room around us. “I mean, this is the best coffee to have ever have crossed my lips.”

He took another long drag of the hot liquid. As he pulled away, he made the cutest, funniest, goofiest face I had ever seen on a person. I laughed.

“So Kurt.”

“So Blaine,” I smiled.

“What do you want to do after high school?”

I had to admit; I was a little surprised by the question. Most people around here knew what was going to happen, what had to happen. “Did I say something wrong?” he asked, gauging my expression.

“Oh no! It’s just that most everybody around here knows. I keep forgetting that you’re new here. You just seem like you’ve been here forever.” Blaine smiled at that.

“But, um, I’m applying to NYADA with my best friend Rachel.” I said dully, “For, uh musical theatre.”

Blaine watched me closely, his eyes raking over my face, my hunched shoulders, my crossed arms.

“Are you sure?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you sure that’s what you want to do? You don’t seem very passionate about it. It actually comes across to me as a bother.”

“No, no, it’s fine. Rachel and I have got to go to NYADA. She and I will get an apartment in New York City. Rachel will graduate at the top of our class. She’ll be starring on Broadway by the time she’s twenty-one. And she and Finn will get married after she earns her second Tony.”

“But what about you?”

“What about me?”

“You changed the whole subject to Rachel. What are you doing while Rachel is doing all this, being in the spotlight?”

I guess I had never thought about it that way. But I did do that, didn’t I? I was conditioned to talk about Rachel, to bring every conversation back to Rachel. I couldn’t even talk about my future plans without turning the focus back to her.

“I guess I’ll be there to cheer her along,” I said distantly. “I’ll take classes with her, study with her, graduate with her. When she moves to Broadway, I’ll audition for the same shows, taking a small side role to support her lead role. When she wins her Tony, I’ll watch from the audience and hope that she might thank me for helping her along in her acceptance speech.”

“Kurt, that’s not a life.”

“Well, it’s my life!” I snapped, looking down at the table.

Blaine took a deep breath to steady himself.

“Okay,” he started, “Let’s just say that Rachel isn’t here.”

“But she-”

“Kurt, please. Let’s just pretend that Rachel isn’t here. She’s not going to NYADA, you’re not going to follow her there, and you’re not going there to follow her like a shadow! What would you do?”

I wanted to yell at him. I wanted to scream at him. Who was he to make assumptions like that? To waltz into my life and pretend that he knew everything and tell me that I didn’t have a life, that I was nothing but Rachel’s shadow.

But he was right, wasn’t he? I really was nothing but Rachel’s shadow, her plaything that she called on when she needed help and tossed aside when she was done.

The whole concept was so foreign to me. No one had really taken any interest in what I wanted or what I thought before. But then there was Blaine, sweet, kind, attentive Blaine, who just wanted to get to know me; who just wanted me to be happy.

“Fashion,” I whispered.

“Excuse me? I didn’t catch that.”

“Fashion,” I said, louder this time.

“Like fashion design?”

“Yes, sort of. Don’t get me wrong, I love to sing. In fact, I would give just about anything to actually have a solo in glee club for once. Not that that would ever happen. But fashion has always been a passion of mine.

“When I was little,” I laughed, “I used to dress up my action figures in handmade outfits that I had made from tissue paper. My mom, before she died, found me doing this one time. I thought she was going to kill me, tell me I was weird or something. But instead, she took me to the store to buy real fabric. She taught me how to sew and cut the patterns I wanted to make. It was fun. I’ve been doing it ever since, really, but instead of clothes for my action figures, I made clothes for me or my friends.”

“So why don’t you apply to fashion schools, then?” Blaine asked gently, taking my hand in his. If I hadn’t been so focused on the conversation, I might have freaked out a bit at the touch.

“It-it’s just never really been on the cards for me,” I said truthfully. “I’ve just always been expected to follow Rachel to NYADA. No one has really asked me otherwise.”

“Would you like to go to fashion school?”

“I’ve never really thought about it, you see. But now that I do, yeah, I think I would. I think I would love to go to school for fashion. I’ve always loved clothes and designing them.” I laughed, “Actually, all of my notebooks are full of runway sketches and fashion drawings in the margins and on pages hidden in the back.”

“Can I see them?”

My eyes widened as the fog of confession slowly lifted off of me and I came back into reality.

“I mean, if you want to!” Blaine backpedaled. “You don’t have to. That was rude of me, I’m sorry. You don’t have to.”

“Blaine, Blaine, it’s okay. You can see them.” I soothed, pulling out my French notebook, knowing all too well that most of my drawings were in there. I didn’t need to pay attention in that class anyway.

I offered the red spiral book to Blaine who took it gently, like it was the Holy Grail or something.

He flipped through the pages in silence, looking up at me every now and then. I explained some of the more complicated sketches with feathers, long trains, or extra zippers. Blaine seemed mesmerized by the whole thing.

After a while, he look up at me one final time. “These are good, Kurt.”

“Thank you,” I blushed.

“No, these are really good,” he said again, reaching for my hand. This time, I was ready for it, and greeted his hand with mine, twining our fingers together. “You have a gift, Kurt.”

“And just when I thought my face couldn’t get any more red.”

“So, if you don’t mind me asking,” he began, flipping the cover closed on red cover, “What is it about fashion that you love so much?”

“Fashion is a way of expression,” I said matter-of-factly, looking away again. “It can make a person blend into the background or stand out in front. It has the power to define a person. I want to create. I want to make someone stand out the way that I can’t. Through fashion, I can make someone into anyone they want to be! I can help them be anything.”

Blaine stroked the back of my hand with his thumb, making slow, gentle circles. I looked up at him then. His eyes seemed flooded with conflicting emotions; empathy, adoration, sadness, hope, affection. I felt like I was drowning in his gaze, though it was something that I just couldn’t get enough of.

“Kurt,” he whispered.

“Hmm?” I hummed, content in his company. This was nice, just the two of us. Everything out in the open, his hand in mine, our eyes locked and swimming with emotion and unspoken words.

“If it makes you happy, why don’t you pursue it?”

I smiled sadly at him, “It’s just not in the cards for a wingman like me-”

“A what?”

“-Wingmen don’t go off on their own.”

“Kurt-”

“No, it’s fine, Blaine, don’t worry about it.”

Blaine’s features twisted into sadness again and I felt a pulling in my heart. All I seemed to do was make this boy upset.

“Kurt, just know, if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m always here. I’ll always listen to you.”

I patted the back of his hand with my free one. “Thank you.”

I tilted back the rest of my coffee and smiled the best smile I could. “Come on, the next round is on me.”