Your mother's face falls as you reject yet another outfit. She puts it back in the closet and as she begins rifling through the contents again, you throw yourself on the bed, exhausted and staring up at the ceiling.

'What about this?' You close your eyes, refusing to even look at it. 'Amber, sweetheart, that's not going to help. Sit up and look at it.'

You wince at the name your mother so carelessly throws your way. Amber. The name of a girl who doesn't even exist. You do as you're told, though, and sit up to look at the thing. You always do as you're told. The outfits seem to be getting progressively worse. This one is actually a dress; pink and flowery and with a bow under the bust.

'Absolutely not,' you blurt almost harshly before you can think to sugarcoat your reaction.

'Okay.' She sighs and turns away again to replace the dress in the closet. 'Is there anything you do want to wear?'

'This,' you respond immediately, indicating the clothes that you are currently wearing.

Your mother's face darkens in displeasure. 'Amber, you can't wear baggy jeans and a t-shirt to your cousin's wedding. It's a wedding, for Pete's sake.'

'Alright. Dress pants then,' you say hopefully, but the look your mother sends you is almost pitying and you know the answer is no. 'Why do I even have to go?'

'Because Katie is your cousin,' your mother replies simply.

'That's not really an answer, you know,' you say as you stand and move to join your mother by the closet. You eye the assortment of skirts and dresses and frilly tops with a decidedly unimpressed grimace.

'I don't know why you even own all these, if you're never going to wear them.'

Your force yourself to keep your tone polite as you reply, 'Neither do I. You're the ones that keep giving me this stuff.'

Your mother abandons her search for the perfect outfit and steps back to look at you, taking in your entire appearance. She cups your chin softly and you avert your eyes because you know the look that crosses her face.

'Sweetheart, you're nearly fourteen. And you're such a pretty girl. Isn't it time you started dressing more like one instead of hiding yourself behind all this?' She indicates the two sizes too big t-shirt you're wearing. 'And maybe grow out that hair too.'

'I'd rather not,' you say stiffly.

'Well, you're not really going to have a choice once you start school in the fall,' she says, her tone brisk suddenly.

'What?' you ask sharply.

'Crawford Country Day. The school,' she adds when you stare blankly at her. 'You'll have to wear a uniform.'

'B-boarding school?' Your eyes grow huge and you get that familiar tight feeling in your chest, like someone is squeezing around your heart. 'Why am I going to boarding school?'

'Your grandmother,' your mother explains as though she thought you knew this. 'She's offered to pay for the whole thing. You know, like she did for Cooper.'

'No,' you tell her flatly. 'I'm not going.'

'You don't have to board,' she says quickly, seeing your panicked face. 'But you know how important these things are to your father's family. And you'll have such a leg up when it comes to college admissions,' she points out bracingly.

'I don't care. I'm not going.' Your mother looks at you for a second like she doesn't even recognize the teenager standing in front of her. "Tomboy" or not you have always been a well-behaved kid and this sudden and vehement resistance is clearly throwing her off.

'This is not something you turn down,' she says her voice firm, trying to reason with you. 'Do you know what I would have given for an opportunity like this?'

You look away from your mother, only to catch a reflection of the two of you in the mirror on the opposite wall. It strikes you suddenly how much more she and you look alike with each day that passes. Her skin tone is a little darker than yours, but your face shape, mouth and eyes are the same, and your body is even starting to curve like hers. When you look back at her and respond, your tone is more apologetic than defiant.

'Well, I'm not you.'

Blaine yawned as he entered the kitchen early on Thursday morning. He felt kind of like he hadn't slept at all, and he wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed and hide from everything.

'Morning,' he called unenthusiastically to his mother who was finishing a bowl of cereal while she checked emails on her phone.

'Morning,' she called back without taking her eyes off the phone, her greeting as distracted as Blaine's had been tired.

Blaine poured himself a large cup of what he hoped was really strong coffee and took a swig, before throwing together a quick breakfast. His mind was working twice as slow as it usually did in the mornings, and what little brain activity he did have was focused on the events of the previous evening and worrying about what he was going to tell Kurt when he saw him.

'Big day today,' his mother said as he joined her at the table.

'Yeah,' Blaine agreed, his stomach doing an excited swoop. He had almost forgotten about the musical.

'This could mean huge things,' she went on. 'Huge.'

'What?' Blaine didn't understand what she was getting at.

'For the company.' Oh. Of course she was talking about her Big Meeting. 'If everything goes as planned, we could be landing the biggest deal the company has ever seen.'

'Great.' Blaine's mother missed his sarcasm.

'But it also means I'll be home pretty late,' she said, as she went through her purse. 'So do you think you could take care of dinner yourself tonight?' She handed him a fifty-dollar bill.

'Sure.' Blaine accepted the money. 'I was planning to go out with friends tonight, anyway. You know, to celebrate.'

'Celebrate?' His mother had become distracted again, her focus once again on her phone.

'Yeah, the musical. We premiere tonight.' Blaine was careful to keep his voice even.

'Oh?' she finished typing something and put her phone down for the moment. 'Oh! Yes, of course. I knew that.' She paused. 'You know I would have loved to be there, right?'

'Yeah, clearly,' Blaine muttered low enough that he didn't think his mother could hear. And at any rate her attention was once again on her phone as it pinged with a new message, and she frowned its content.

'Mom?' He asked tentatively after a few moments.

'Hm?'

'You know Kurt, right?'

'Mm-hm, your boyfriend.' Her frown at the phone was growing deeper and deeper, and she typed out a fast reply to whomever she was in contact with.

'Yes. Well, it's getting kind of serious... I mean, we've been together nearly eight months... and, well, I love him. I really do. But, you know, it's difficult because he doesn't- I mean, I'm wondering how to-'

'Oh, for Pete's sake!' his mother said suddenly a moment after her phone had pinged again, and Blaine jumped. 'You have got to be kidding me. Oh, I'm going to strangle him.' She got to her feet, a frantic look on her face, and deposited the empty cereal bowl by the sink. 'I'm sorry, sweetie, what were you saying?'

'Nothing, nothing,' Blaine replied quickly. Why did he even keep trying? 'It's not important.'

Ten seconds later the front door slammed, and she was gone.

Blaine left early for school, planning to avoid Kurt at least until he had worked out what he was going to tell him. When he arrived at school, however, he found Kurt already waiting for him by his locker. Blaine sighed and approached warily.

'Hey,' Blaine greeted cheerily, pointing over his shoulder. 'Your locker is that way, you know.'

'Yeah, I know, I've already got my things,' Kurt said, ignoring Blaine's attempt at a joke. 'I got here early. I wasn't going to let you get away with avoiding me.'

'I wasn't going to,' Blaine lied quickly, but Kurt just raised an eyebrow at him and it was clear he wasn't buying it. Kurt knew him too well by now. And not well enough at all.

Blaine busied himself with collecting the things he needed for his first lessons, but he could feel Kurt's eyes on him the entire time. When Blaine finally slammed his locker shut, Kurt took him by the hand and began leading him down the hall.

'Kurt, what're you-' Blaine objected as he half-stumbled after Kurt. 'We'll be late for class.'

'We have fifteen minutes,' Kurt said, and a few moments later they stepped into the empty auditorium.

'What are we doing here?' Blaine asked as he followed Kurt slowly down the steps.

'We need to talk.' Kurt stopped at the bottom of the stairs right in front of the stage. 'And I didn't think either of us would be comfortable in the middle of the hallway.'

'Kurt-' Blaine began but Kurt held up a hand to stop him.

'I'm sorry. About last night.'

'You've said that already,' Blaine pointed out as he descended the last few steps and moved to lean against a seat on the front row, his arms crossed over his chest. 'And it's okay, Kurt. I wasn't upset with you. I was just...'

'Upset,' Kurt finished for him, and Blaine nodded. 'I totally misread the situation, though. I shouldn't have just assumed you'd be fine.'

Blaine had no real answer to that, so he just shrugged and walked up the length of the stage, climbing the stairs in the middle, not really sure where he was going or what he was doing, except he felt like he needed to not be standing still.

'I guess you just always seemed so comfortable with everything,' Kurt went on, trying to engage Blaine and make him talk. 'I really thought we were just waiting for me.'

Blaine knew that Kurt was thinking about last year and Blaine's attempts to talk to him about sex. He wondered vaguely if Kurt also knew that he had gone to Kurt's dad in his eagerness to help. That had been different though, all that, and much easier, because he and Kurt weren't together then, and everything said was theoretical and didn't involve Blaine.

'I'm sorry, too,' Blaine offered as Kurt joined him on the stage. 'I shouldn't have taken off like that. I was just... overwhelmed.'

Kurt stepped closer, standing so near that Blaine could feel his warm breath on his nose. He took Blaine's hand in his, lacing their fingers together and holding their hands between them over their hearts.

'We'll take it at whatever pace you're comfortable with, okay?' Kurt said softly. 'But Blaine, can I ask? Is there something deeper behind this?' Blaine's eyes widened, and he felt his heart rate pick up. 'I just feel like maybe your reaction was a bit extreme for it be just...' Kurt trailed off with a shrug, trying to seem unconcerned, but Blaine could see he was worried.

'What? No, of course not. I just wasn't expecting it,' Blaine said.

But Kurt persisted. 'But you were literally shaking, Blaine.'

Blaine swallowed. This was it. He could tell Kurt right now. They were alone and Kurt was asking. His hand was squeezing Blaine's gently, and as Blaine looked into Kurt's eyes, so open and concerned, it seemed like the perfect opportunity.

Except then Blaine thought of the musical, which was going on in less than twelve hours, and if he dropped a bomb like this on Kurt now, no matter what the reaction was, neither of them would likely be mentally equipped to play their roles properly. Granted it was just a high school production, but everyone had worked really hard, and it wasn't fair for Blaine to compromise all their work for selfish reasons. Not to mention Rachel would kill Blaine if he made her look bad. He had waited this long. What was one more week until the musical was over?

'You didn't think-' Kurt hesitated, biting his lip. 'You didn't think I was going to hurt you, did you?'

'What?' Blaine exclaimed, taken aback. 'No! God, no.'

'Then what?' A thought seemed to occur to him then and he let go of Blaine, suddenly pale. 'Oh god, you weren't- You didn't- I mean, did someone- Did something happen to you?'

Blaine's mouth fell open as he realized what Kurt was asking. 'No. Just no. Nothing like that,' Blaine said in a firm voice. 'It just really caught me off guard. It was already a long intense day, and then with Sebastian at the bar, and the drinking, and I just... I overreacted, and I'm sorry.'

'Okay, good.' Kurt breathed a sigh of relief, calming himself. 'I've just been making myself crazy since last night, thinking there was something you weren't telling me.'

'There isn't,' Blaine said and then winced internally, because this was the first time he had downright lied to Kurt, and he hated how it made him feel.

Just one more week, Blaine told himself. One more week and the play is done, and this will all be over one way or another.

'Knock, knock,' comes a playful voice from the doorway and you turn to see your father there, all smiles and carrying one of his expensive cameras. 'How are my two favorite ladies? Anything you want to show off yet?' He points excitedly to the camera.

'Dad.' Your voice is frantic and desperate as you turn to him next. 'Please don't make me go to Crawford.'

'What?' Your father stares confusedly from you to his wife, clearly looking for some kind of context, and she shrugs, equally perplexed.

'I've told her she doesn't have to board if she doesn't want to, but-'

'It's not about that,' you're quick to reiterate. 'I just really don't want to go to that school.'

'What's the problem?' your father asks, frowning and his tone worried. He deposits the camera on the dresser next to him, before taking a few more steps into the room. 'Crawford is a fine school. I've heard plenty of good things about it. Your cousin Katie went there, you know.'

'Please,' you beg, your voice almost a whisper. You can feel the tears threatening to spill over, but you force them back. 'Just let me go to the public high school. Tell grandma thanks but no thanks.'

'What is this really about? Hm?' Your father walks to stand right in front of you, and as he gently tilts your face up to look at you properly, you can't stop your bottom lip from trembling. 'Sweetheart?'

'Just say I don't have to go,' you plead, your voice quivering too now. 'Please, Daddy.'

Your father takes you by the hand then and leads you to sit on the edge of the bed, before kneeling in front of you. You can sense your mother somewhere behind you, unsure and hovering. 'Now, explain to me what the problem is. Why are you so upset about this?'

The tightness in your chest has spread to your stomach, which is twisting uncomfortably, and your cheeks are burning. Your hands are clammy with cold sweat, and they are shaking a little, you realize, as you lift one to brush a hair out of your face. You clench your fists to make it stop and you take a few calming breaths.

'Because-' you begin, first speaking to your father's tie, but then you lift your gaze to look him straight in the eye instead, forcing yourself to give off an air of calm far from your actual state of mind. 'Because it's a girls' school. And- and I'm not a girl.' Your father's face remains completely impassive at these words, and behind you your mother isn't moving a muscle. 'I think- I feel like... I feel like I should have been a boy.'

'Sweetie, that isn't something you joke about,' your mother tells you seriously and you twist to look at her as she walks around the bed to stand next to your father.

'It's not a joke,' you say calmly. 'I feel like a boy. I have for a long time. It's called being transgender.'

At the last word your mother's mouth falls open a little bit and your father sucks in a quick breath. You turn your gaze back to him, then back at your mother and back and forth between them, frantically searching for some kind of reaction.

'I just can't do it anymore, it's too much.' You drop your calm facade, choking the words out in a trembling voice that keeps breaking, and you shake your head from side to side, now looking anywhere but at your parents. 'I tried so hard. To be normal. To be right. To be what you wanted me to be, but I just can't, and it just hurts so much to keep trying.'

Your father stills you and stops your stream of words with one strong hand on your shoulder and another warm hand gently touching your cheek. Your breath is shallow and your throat is hurting with the effort of not crying. Your father's face is pained with heartbreak and you don't know whether it's for you or him, but that's when you feel the first tear roll thickly down your left cheek.

'Please just don't send me to Crawford. Please,' you sob out as the tears begin to fall for real. Then the next thing you know, you're on the floor and your father has scooped you up in his arms, cradling you like a small child.

'Shh, it's okay, Amber,' he murmurs soothingly, and though part of you is afraid he has missed the point entirely, you're just so relieved that no one is yelling at you. 'You don't have to go. We'll figure it out. We'll figure it all out, okay?'

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry,' is the only thing you can say between sobs as you burrow deeper and deeper into your father's warm embrace. 'I'm so sorry.'

'It feels weird not to have the musical to worry about anymore,' Kurt was saying as he and Blaine let themselves into the, as always, empty Anderson house the next Wednesday afternoon.

Blaine hummed in agreement as he closed the door behind them with a smile. 'Next up: Sectionals.'

'I'm so happy you decided to transfer, and we get to do this together.' Kurt's voice rose to an excited squeal and he clapped his hands giddily. Blaine smiled fondly. He knew that Kurt had never truly felt at home at Dalton and competing with New Directions meant so much more to him. 'Admit it, you're glad too.'

'I am. Very,' Blaine agreed before going in for a quick kiss. 'I'm also pretty convinced that Dalton wouldn't have let us get away with a performance like the one earlier today,' he said as they moved into the living room.

Performing Hot For Teacher with Mike, Finn and Puck had felt like a small milestone for Blaine, who had been touched when Mike had approached him and asked if he wanted to help out. It was a fun challenge trying to keep up with Mike's moves, and the whole experience had left him feeling one step closer to being a proper member of the group. Kurt had looked like he quite enjoyed the show, too, and in fact he still sort of looked like that.

'Yeah, that was... interesting.' Kurt smirked and quirked a suggestive eyebrow.

Before Blaine could do anything more than grin in response, his alarm went off on his phone, and as he pulled it out, he saw the reminder he had set that morning as he was on his way out the door. Shot, was all it said, but Blaine knew what it meant. Today was the day of his biweekly hormone injection, and while Blaine usually did them in the mornings, he had overslept this morning leaving him no time to do it before he had to leave for school. Which meant that he had to do it now. Although he could also wait a few hours until Kurt had gone home and nothing bad would happen. Blaine hated not doing his shots on time, though.

He looked up at Kurt.

'What is it?'

'It's nothing, it's just-' Blaine searched his mind quickly for an excuse. 'I have to call my mom real quick. Can you wait down here for a bit?'

'Sure. No problem.' Kurt shrugged and swung his arms lightly by his side, looking around the room.

'Feel free to watch TV or whatever you want. Mi casa es su casa,' Blaine quipped and winked at Kurt. 'I'll be right back.'

The injections didn't take a long time to do, especially not now that Blaine was so well practiced. The first couple of times of doing his own shots, it had taken him quite a while to ignore his body's instincts that stabbing himself with a needle was an exceptionally bad idea, and just do it. Now he could usually do it in five minutes if he was in a hurry.

For some reason though, everything seemed to go slower today. Maybe it was having Kurt right downstairs which was psyching him out and making him self-conscious, or maybe it was him having overslept this morning which was throwing his whole rhythm off, but first he couldn't find the alcohol wipes he needed to sterilize the area, and then he kept doing everything in the wrong order. Then when the shot was done there was more blood than usual and of course he couldn't find the band-aids. When he was finally all done, Kurt had been left to his own devices for at least ten minutes.

'Sorry, I took so long,' Blaine apologized as he re-entered the living room. 'There was- What are you doing?'

Kurt was sitting in an armchair flicking through an old photo album, and Blaine lost his breath for a moment.

'Making myself at home as per your request.' Kurt grinned up at Blaine as he approached him to see what he was looking at. 'I still can't believe the guy from those commercials is your brother.'

Blaine blew out a breath of air as he perched on the armrest and looked down realizing with relief that Kurt had picked an album which was mostly full of photos of a young Cooper before a second child had joined the family.

'Yeah, Cooper's quite something,' Blaine said, smiling at a photo showing an eight-year-old Cooper dressed up as Elvis.

Blaine's smile stiffened, however, when Kurt turned the page to reveal a photo of a nine-year-old Cooper holding a newborn baby. The handwritten note underneath the photo read Cooper holding Amber for the first time.

'Who's Amber?' Kurt asked, a puzzled look on his face.

'That's... that's...' Blaine swallowed. Just say it, he told himself. Just say it. That's me. It's just two words, it's not that difficult. Just say it. 'My cousin. She's my cousin.'

When Blaine transferred to McKinley he knew he was doing it so he could spent more time with Kurt, and he knew how much that time was going to mean to both of them. What he hadn't counted on was how much he would value the opportunities throughout a day to simply look at his boyfriend. Blaine loved to watch Kurt when Kurt didn't know he was being watched – not in a creepy, stalker type of a way, but things like stealing glances at him during the few classes that they shared, or spotting him between classes at the other end of a crowded hallway. Kurt had such a grace about him, and he was honestly the most beautiful thing Blaine had ever seen. Not that Kurt knew it, of course (despite how often Blaine told him so), which somehow only amplified his beauty. Possibly what Blaine admired the most about Kurt, though, was his strength and his refusal to let anyone else define him. Even when people were throwing him dirty looks or snide remarks, Kurt always carried himself so proudly, and Blaine loved that about him.

He loved noticing these things about Kurt as he watched from afar, and he loved the moment when Kurt turned around and saw Blaine; the way his expression would immediately change to something softer and less guarded. Something that was just for Blaine.

Sometimes it terrified Blaine how much he loved Kurt.

When Blaine got together with Kurt back in March of that year, there was a part of him that very purposely didn'tmention his unique situation. He had honestly been half convinced that it wouldn't take long before he screwed things up in some other way, and as they were taking things very slow, he saw no reason to complicate the relationship needlessly. But then the impossible happened and Blaine didn't screw everything up right away, and before he knew it he had gone from You move me to I love you, which complicated things all on its own, because from then on the idea of telling Kurt, and possibly losing him, got so much more difficult.

I'll tell him, Blaine would reason in his mind. Just one more kiss. One more day. One more week. Until the whole idea of coming out was mostly peripheral and brought up only during his darker moments in front of the mirror at home, when some event or comment had sent him reeling, leaving him in an endless loop of dysphoria and self-hatred. Who's ever gonna want a freak like you?

It was Kurt's speech at the debate that made Blaine decide to quit stalling and quit feeling sorry for himself, because in that ninety-second speech Blaine saw exemplified just about everything he loved and admired most about Kurt. His strength and defiance in the face of bullies. His kindness and compassion for others. And here Blaine was, concealing a major aspect of himself and lying to this amazing guy day after day. Who the hell did he think he was?

It was time for an answer.

It's nearly two weeks and a lot of crying later, when you and your parents pull into the parking lot of the Unitarian Church in North Columbus. After days of talking in circles and not getting anywhere, your mother finally announced that there was a local PFLAG group and maybe it would be a good idea to attend one of their meetings. You agree and, as you approach the building, you're still glad she made the suggestion, but that doesn't stop your heart from racing somewhat harder than usual, or you from sticking closer to your father's side than under normal circumstances.

Once you enter the room where the meeting is being held, you are promptly greeted by a cheerful, middle-aged woman.

'Hi! I don't think I've met you before.' She throws you an exuberant smile as she looks at the three of you in turn. You shuffle your feet awkwardly, struck by sudden shyness. Behind her are about two dozen people, all seated around the large table that takes up most of the room, chatting quietly in pairs or small groups.

'Yes, this is our first time,' your mother responds, and you can tell that she, too, is a bit nervous, because she has adopted her brisk business personality. 'Sorry, we're late, by the way. We're not familiar with the neighborhood and got a bit turned around, I'm afraid.'

'No worries,' the woman waves the matter off. 'We were only just about to start. I'm Susie, by the way, and I coordinate this whole mess. Well, I'm supposed to.' The woman lets out a low rumbling laugh.

'I'm John,' your father holds out a hand to greet Susie, smiling politely though he is clearly still a little apprehensive about the woman in front of him. You like her though, you've decided. She has kind eyes. 'This is my wife, Grace, and this is Am-'

'Blaine,' you cut him off before he can finish, saying the name out loud for the first time. 'It's Blaine.'

Your parents regard you curiously, and Susie looks between the three of you, a knowing look passing her features.

'Blaine,' Susie says fondly, tasting the name and shaking your hand. 'Nice to meet you, Blaine.'

The meeting starts with a round of brief introductions, during which it becomes clear that most people here are family members of gay and lesbian youths, though "bisexual" gets a few mentions as well. The only other transgender person in the room is Michelle, a college-aged transwoman who is there with her mother, both of them apparently regulars at these meetings.

When it comes your turn to introduce yourselves, your father takes the reigns and stumbles his way through introducing the situation, saying words like "girl" and "daughter" and using all the wrong pronouns, which makes you shift uncomfortably in your seat. It's not like you expect your parents to be able to make the switch just like that, and you really are grateful that they have come this far this fast.

But that doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt – now more than it ever has.

When the introductions are over, the floor is open to discussion of any topic that are on the attendees' minds, though you and your parents mostly stay uninvolved, preferring to sit back and listen. Eventually the meeting breaks up into smaller groups chatting amongst themselves or discussing a particular issue in depth. It's around this point that you feel a hand on your shoulder and you look around to see Michelle crouching behind you and your father. Next to her, her mother is addressing your parents.

'Hi,' Michelle greets you, her voice soft and kind. 'What's your name?'

'B-Blaine.' The name still feels foreign on your lips.

'Hi, Blaine,' Michelle smiles sweetly. 'Wanna talk?'

She jerks her head to indicate that you should move, and you follow her to the other side of the room.

'Best to leave them to talk privately,' Michelle explains and you look back at the table, where your mother is nodding seriously at words you can't hear. 'Don't worry about them. Let's you and me talk.'

You look back at her. 'About what?'

'Whatever you want.' She shrugs. 'I'm sure your parents aren't the only ones with questions.'

You look thoughtfully at her. At this young woman, years into her transition. Sure, her voice is a little deep (wouldn't it be awesome if you could trade?) and if you look close enough you can see the more masculine features revealing her history, but by all accounts Michelle is just a beautiful girl like any other.

'What's it like?' you ask in a small voice. 'Transitioning... Passing... Being... who you're supposed to be.' A tender look passes Michelle's face and you bite your lip, staring out the window behind her for a moment, before you look back at her. 'Is it like... happy?'

Michelle leans against the window sill and seems to consider her answer for a few moments.

'Am I happier now than I was five years ago? Yes. I'm not gonna lie to you, though. It's not going to be easy, the life you have ahead of you. There will be good days and bad days – and probably some really miserable ones.' She straightens up and looks you in the eye before continuing. 'But with a good support system and the right attitude, I promise you, you can make it. And there might even come a day, when you're glad this is the life you have.'

'I just get so bitter sometimes,' you say in strangled voice. 'It's not fair.'

'Life rarely is,' she says, before moving to stand closer to you. 'I know I sound like a fortune cookie, but you really just have to make the best of it. Hey, kid,' she says tenderly, tilting your face up with a soft finger under your chin to make you look at her. She smiles. 'Your life isn't over. In fact this is where you life starts. So chin up, alright?'

You nod obediently. For someone you just met, you feel oddly compelled to follow her advice.

'Also,' she continues, her gaze still on you. 'I've told you before, Ty. It's rude to stare.'

You blink confusedly and are just about to ask her why she is calling you Ty, when a boy a year or two older than you appears from behind you with a sheepish grin on his face.

'I'm sorry. It's just, I know you.' The boy points at you, clearly excited about his discovery. 'You're the Anderson kid. We went to the same junior high.'

'Oh,' is all you can think to say, stunned that this random older kid remembers you.

'You don't remember me.'

'Sorry.' You wince.

'It's cool,' he chuckles. 'It's not like I would've stood out to you. I was still kind of hiding back then. Tyler Simmons.'

'That makes two of us,' you say as you shake Tyler's hand, then add laughing, 'About the hiding, I mean. Not the being called Tyler Simmons. I'm Blaine. Blaine Anderson.'

'So...' your mother starts later when you're all in the car, driving back home. '"Blaine", huh?'

'Yeah,' you say from the backseat, your cheeks coloring a little. It's still so strange discussing any of this with your parents, or with anyone, really. 'I found it last year. It means yellow so I figure that's sort of like keeping some of Amber around. Does that make sense?'

'It does,' she nods encouragingly. She tries out the name again, 'Blaine. I like it. We'll try.' She pauses for a moment, exchanging a look with your father, before continuing. 'It's a lot. It is. We've never- We just thought you might be a lesbian. So this a lot to take in.'

Your stomach clenches a bit at her words, and you look out the window. You can't help feeling guilty for putting this on your parents. You hate being a source of stress for them.

'But Michelle's mom was very helpful,' your mother continues, her voice aiming for hopeful but still a bit strained. 'She had a lot of good advice to give. She mentioned a support group down in the LGBT center that you might be interested in, and she gave us the name of a good therapist that we're going to try and set you up with, and- and we'll see from there, okay? And just- we'll try, okay?'

It didn't quite work out as planned.

Blaine was good at excuses. First it had been It doesn't need to be right now, which had turned into But I can't right now. Then had he told himself he couldn't do it in the middle of the musical. Then after he had actually made up his mind, there was the whole mess with Santana's outing that distracted everyone for a few days, and Blaine and Kurt were working on Perfect and it just didn't seem like the moment.

Now, however, the situation had mostly blown over, and Blaine was waiting for Kurt in the empty choir room, having asked his boyfriend to stay behind with him after glee rehearsal (after a bit of deliberation Blaine had opted for neutral territory). Kurt had been pulled out by Figgins in the middle of it, which was why he wasn't here now, but as Blaine paced back and forth in front of the chairs, trying to work out how he was going to start the conversation, it didn't occur to him that that could mean anything bad.

There was the sound of someone bursting into the room and Blaine wheeled around to see Kurt, crying and clearly upset. Blaine was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that for one wild moment he thought Kurt was crying about what Blaine was about to tell him, but of course that didn't make any sense.

'Kurt, what happened?' Blaine asked, hurrying to Kurt's side.

Kurt sniffled once before launching into speech. 'I lost. I lost the race. Plus they think I cheated. Someone stuffed the ballot boxes. I could get suspended.' He looked at Blaine with red, tear-filled eyes and the magnitude of the situation seemed to sink in. 'Blaine, I lost. I really lost.'

Kurt sobbed again, and Blaine pulled him close, hugging him tight and murmuring comfort in his ear, all thoughts of coming out wiped from his mind, because right now Kurt needed Blaine's comfort more than his honesty.

Excuses.

They weren't just excuses though, honestly, because what kind of douchebag would he have to be to turn to his crying boyfriend now and say Hey, by the way, I'm transgender. You don't mind, do you? There was a time and a place and this was not it.

The next day they were in the library finishing up Kurt's application for NYADA. Kurt had composed himself a little, and Rachel had admitted to the cheating, so he wasn't getting in trouble. Kurt still lost though, and his expression was somber as they left the library together.

'Can we talk about something else now? I feel like thinking about this much more is just going to drive me crazy.'

Should Blaine tell him then? Granted what he had to say probably would make Kurt forget his current troubles for a while, but distracting Kurt from his worries by adding yet more worries didn't really seem like the way to go.

So Blaine waited, telling himself that he would do it after Thanksgiving, which gave Kurt the rest of the week to gather himself and his thoughts about this whole mess, before Blaine forced him to deal with another. And it gave Blaine a little more time (as though he hadn't already had enough), and maybe he could ask Cooper for advice this weekend.

'Tell me about your Thanksgiving. I know you said you were looking forward to it.' Blaine offered the only distraction he could think of, and he was pleased to see Kurt's sullen and worried features morph into something happier. Kurt launched into a rambling description of the Hudson-Hummel family's Thanksgiving plans, which involved visiting out-of-state relatives, and it lasted well into the drive to Kurt's house.

'What about you?' he asked, turning to Blaine, when he had exhausted the topic.

'Ah...' Blaine sighed. 'Let's not talk about that. I just managed to get a smile on your face. I wouldn't wanna kill the mood.'

'Big family gathering?' Kurt guessed.

'Yup. My grandma, my dad's brothers, their wives, kids...' Blaine tried to keep his voice neutral, but Kurt caught his discomfort easily.

'That bad, huh?'

'No, I mean, I guess it could be fine,' Blaine reasoned. 'It's just I haven't really seen them all since... well, since I came out.'

'I can see how that could be awkward,' Kurt said, grimacing in sympathy. 'But hey, it might not even come up at all. It's not like you're wearing a sign saying "I'm gay, ask me how". If they can't deal, maybe they'll just ignore it as much as they can. You know, to keep the Thanksgiving peace.'

'Yeah, maybe...'

Except ignoring the issue was kind of the opposite of what Blaine was hoping for in this case.