Quinn dug into the band of her sock and pulled out a shiny silver key. She took a quick glance around; noticing that Kurt's father's car was gone, and Finn and Sam were pulling out the driveway. Waiting patiently, she twirled the key in her hand and played with the bubble gum in her mouth, watching the Toyota Camry finally succeed in heading off down the block.

The skank unlocked the door to her vehicle and got out, adjusting the short jean skirt she wore and slamming it shut. After another glance around the neighborhood to make sure that none of the Hudmel men were returning after maybe forgetting something at home, she darted across the street and up to the front door.

Using the spare key her best friend gave her, she unlocked the wooden door and walked inside. Quinn had had enough. Kurt's behavior was really ridiculous as of late. Sure, the skank lifestyle was all about not giving a fuck, but they had to be realistic. He couldn't cut school or show up late every day. They had to get out of this dump Lima sometime, and with her best friend snoring his day away, it wasn't going to happen.

The basement door was locked and the pink-blonde haired girl sucked her teeth. She dug in her short locks, pulling out a hair pin, and began to jimmy the lock as best she could. After a few minutes of tireless work, the lock finally clicked open, and the girl turned the knob.

Quinn frowned when she found Kurt passed out in a t-shirt and boxers on the bed, sprawled out on top of the covers. She walked past the sofa he had along the wall and over to his king sized mattress, roughly snatching the pillow from underneath his head before proceeding to whack him with it.

The male skank didn't even flinch.

"Kurt!" she shouted, pinching the boy in the ass. When he mumbled into the sheets and swatted her hand away, Quinn only hit him with the pillow even harder.

"Kurt! Get your ass up! We're going to school early today."

Kurt rolled over with a evident grimace on his face. "Why do you hate me, Quinnie?"

"Do you want to know what your father will do when he sees your report card? Because I don't want to attend your funeral just yet, Kurt."

The boy sat up in his bed, scratching tiredly at his pink streaked hair. "Just let me sleep a few more periods."

"No." she went over to his closet and flung out a pair of tight black jeans, a grey V-neck, and a denim black vest with the skank logo on the back. "Wash your ass and get dressed. I'll be upstairs waiting. And don't make me come back down here—"

"Go! Shit," Kurt cut in, grabbing the clothes and heading into the bathroom.

Quinn smiled, feeling victorious. She put her key back in the band of her sock and headed towards the steps.

….

"Great," Kurt rolled his eyes as they strolled the halls, barely making it in time for second period. Quinn rolled hers as well as a group of their old friends approached, eyeing both skanks with what seemed to be disappointment, not that either Kurt or Quinn gave a damn. They tried to walk by without any interaction but Rachel, Mercedes, and Tina seemed to form a border across the hallway.

"Hey Quinn, Kurt." Rachel looked at the both of them with a forced smile as they blocked the path.

"We need to get to class—"

Kurt was cut off by a desperate sounding Tina, "You two should consider coming back to glee club! The New Directions miss you and we're getting ready for sectionals—"

"Sorry," Quinn held her hand up as if to silence her, "we're not coming back. But thanks for the input. The bell's about to ring."

"The both of you are throwing your futures away. Kurt," Rachel turned to look at her old friend who wore an exasperated expression, "you know how bad you used to want to be on Broadway, just like me! We're all better than this," Quinn sighed as the brunette rambled, "I'm not the only one destined for greatness. I believe you two—"

"Piss off, Berry," Kurt pushed past them tiredly and continued the path to his class. Mercedes frowned, shaking her head as she watched him go, and Quinn follow behind him. Turning to Rachel and Tina she shrugged.

"Maybe next time, guys."

….

The late bell rang as Kurt strolled across the threshold of his second period algebra class. He couldn't remember the last time he came to math but the fact that he couldn't remember the teacher's name showed him that it had probably been a while.

In the very front of the class sat Blaine Anderson and Kurt's eyes rolled to the ceiling. He'd been trying to avoid the nerd for the past few days, hence his whole staying in bed thing, and if he did come to school, he avoided French class at all costs. Apparently, they shared more than seventh period.

Mr. Klein asked Kurt to take a seat so that they could begin. This made Blaine look up at the mention of Kurt's name, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose in the process. He adjusted them and smiled, motioning to the empty seat next to him. Kurt simply ignored him and headed to the back.

Blaine shook his head at the teen, though he could appreciate the outfit Kurt was wearing. He found himself wondering how Kurt squeezed into jeans that tight as he packed up his books and moved to the back of the class to follow him.

Kurt noticed Blaine coming and threw his head onto his folded arms on the desk. Why did this kid feel the need to sit next to him? He couldn't just come back here and sleep in peace?

Blaine slid into the seat and smiled, leaning over to whisper to the skank. "What're you doing here?"

He gave Kurt a friendly smile when the skank peeked up, wearing a rather annoyed look. Blaine didn't care though.

Kurt couldn't believe someone with wide rimmed glasses, a red pair of suspenders with a matching bowtie over a white short sleeved button-up, (and are those Capri pants?) could be so adorable. Blaine's smile was—

What the fuck are you doing? He's not adorable! He's a nerd! And shit, answer the question before he notices you freaking out Kurt!

"I have this class," Kurt said nonchalantly, ignoring the conflict going on inside his head. "Why else would I be here?"

Blaine smoothed out his gelled helmet and nodded obviously with a shy grin. "I just never see you here."

"I never come." he responded in a bored tone.

The boy nodded once more, fixing the frames to a comfortable spot on his face. He took his things back out and faced forward, trying to focus on the lesson.

Kurt lay there with his head in his arms, pretending to be asleep. He listened to the banter of his math teacher, asking people what x equals, and he could hear the dumbasses around him responding and getting it wrong, all except for Blaine. He'd coyly raise his hand and get it correct, smiling at the praise from Mr. Klein.

And every once in a while, Kurt would glance up through the little hole his arms provided and see Blaine shoot a quick glance at him before looking down at his book again.

He wondered what was going on inside the new student's head when he did that. Was he being judgmental, looking at Kurt's piercings or the tattoos on his neck, thinking that he got stuck partnering up with a real loser, or was he maybe thanking the heavens that his boyfriend was nothing like him. His boyfriend was probably amazing and smart and gorgeous.

Kurt tried to force all the stupid thoughts he was having out of his mind, and focus on something else. A cigarette would be nice right about now. He could really use a good smoke. And a new tattoo would be nice. Maybe his mother's name on his arm. He always wanted to put her name somewhere on his body. And wow, Blaine looked really cute chewing on his pencil like that. And the shy look he gets when he raises his hand, probably worrying about seeming like a know-it-all. How much gel does he use anyway? His hair is probably soft and adorable without it.

Fuck.

Kurt sat up shaking his head. This was not good. He couldn't crush on this fucking dork Blaine Anderson. Kurt is a skank. Blaine is the opposite of everything Kurt stands for.

"Okay class, take the last few minutes to start on homework," Mr. Klein said, retreating to his desk to grade papers. "You can talk amongst yourself, but please maintain a low voice."

Blaine pulled out the worksheet they were given for homework quickly and looked over it. Kurt had yet to take out a book, and he watched his classmates as they turned and began to talk to one another. He looked over to Blaine, watching his brows furrow as he worked, and cursed himself when Blaine glanced up and caught those blue eyes looking. The gorgeous smile Blaine gave as a result made Kurt look away and feign innocence.

"When are we going to do our project?" Blaine asked curiously. "You seem to be avoiding me."

Kurt shrugged. It was true. He was avoiding him. Because when he didn't, he did shit like this and thought about how cute this guy was. "I have shit to do after school. That's all."

Blaine nodded his understanding. "I see. So would you like to maybe—I don't know, do you want to work in school? Like maybe in the library during lunch?"

Kurt's laugh made Blaine raise an eyebrow with interest. And then he frowned, because Kurt only continued to laugh. He watched the teen struggle for breath, his eyes trailing to the pale skin exposed around Kurt's V-neck and remaining there. It looked really smooth. Blaine cleared his throat and brought his mind back to where it needed to be. He had a boyfriend and this wasn't right.

Kurt finally caught his breath after the teacher gave him a couple warnings.

"I don't work in my actual classes, Blaine. What makes you think I'm going to work during lunch? Honestly?"

Blaine shrugged, sitting back in his chair. Obviously he was a burden to this guy. Kurt didn't need a partner anyway. He could do amazing and get a good grade without him. Blaine didn't even know how to count to ten in French yet. "I can tell you don't like me—I mean that's what I'm guessing since you don't want to meet up or anything." He stopped for a while and stared down at his homework, trying not to feel as hurt as he actually did. Kurt went to tell him that wasn't true… even though it was supposed to be, but Blaine had continued talking. "I'll just tell Madame Fournier to switch my partner if it's not too late. Otherwise I'll find a tutor and work alone—"

"Blaine, I do—it's not that I don't like you… you're… I mean—" Kurt stumbled over his words trying to find a way to say what he needed to in a skank way, not in an old Kurt way. Old Kurt got rejected over and over again. Skank Kurt made the rules.

"Then what is it?" Blaine cut in, smiling sadly, "I'm a good guy, Kurt. I know I'm not cool…" he trailed off for a moment, gathering his thoughts, "or attractive—athletic like that Daryl guy, but I'm nice."

Kurt felt his heart breaking at the way Blaine's voice broke at the end. He took a deep breath and nodded. Maybe Blaine didn't deserve to be treated like dirt. He just transferred here from a more than likely amazing school, and just need a friend. He sighed before responding, his blue-grey eyes meeting warm hazel ones, "You can come by my place after school. I'll give you my address."

Kurt slid over to Blaine's desk and began to write down his information, and Blaine felt a smile spread across his lips because of it.

"Thanks. This means a lot to me."

Kurt looked up and smiled softly, before chastising himself and looking away. Blaine stared at him for a while before looking away as well. "I'm auditioning for glee club this afternoon, but afterwards—"

"You're doing what?" Kurt questioned in disbelief.

"Auditioning for glee club," Blaine repeated monotonously. "So I'll be over like 4:30 or so."

Kurt smirked, rolling his eyes away. "Well, I wish you god speed."

Blaine's face screwed up in confusion. "What do you mean?"

The bell rang and Kurt stood up, walking out without saying goodbye. Blaine frowned as he wondered what he was talking about, but shrugged and packed his things away.

….

Kurt skipped French class 7th period, leaving Blaine in the seat by himself with no one to bother. Madame Fournier didn't seem to affected. She must've been used to his rare appearances by now.

The lesson went well. He learned how to count to 10 finally, after sharing a short conversation with a nice girl in front of him who also briefly went over the alphabet with him. He still had to practice that.

Blaine went to the choir room at the end of the day, remembering when he passed it the day before and heard rehearsals. He entered the room quickly before he could change his mind and looked at the faces of the teens seated, laughing with each other and joking with the club's director over his rap skills. They looked up at him wide eyes, Mike noticing him right away and saying hello, Rachel wondering if he was a spy.

"Hey!" Mr. Schuester introduced himself to Blaine with a wide smile. "Can I help you?"

"My name is Blaine And—"

"He's the cutie pie transfer student everyone's talking about," Santana said with a mischievous smile. Blaine blushed and continued.

"Blaine Anderson," he resumed, "and I'd like to audition for your glee club, if it's alright—"

"Aren't you from Dalton?" Rachel quipped, a suspicious look on her face.

"Yes." He replied with a proud smile. Blaine loved his old school. "I was actually in the glee club there with the Warblers—"

"Spy!"

"Rachel, stop." Mr. Schue said. "We'd love for you to audition, Blaine. Whenever you're ready."

Blaine smiled, though he looked a little nervous now. He placed his bag down in the corner after looking at the expectant faces of the students before him. He walked over to the polite man on the piano and whispered something, handing over sheet music, and the man whispered something to his band before they began to play.

Standing in the center of the choir room, Blaine took a deep breath to rid himself of the all the nerves. He listened to the music play and waited for his cue before singing.

I'm at a payphone trying to call home
All of my change I spent on you
Where have the times gone, baby it's all wrong
Where are the plans we made for two?

Yeah, I, I know it's hard to remember,
The people we used to be...
It's even harder to picture,
That you're not here next to me.

He started to move to the beat of the drummer, the nerves of singing in front of all these people he didn't really know (with the exception of Mike who he shared a couple classes with) starting to disappear.

You say it's too late to make it,
But is it too late to try?
And in our time that you wasted
All of our bridges burned down

I've wasted my nights,
You turned out the lights
Now I'm paralyzed,
Still stuck in that time,
When we called it love,
But even the sun sets in paradise

The sounds of claps along to the beat made Blaine open his eyes. He smiled, singing the lyrics, because the students actually liked him. They were applauding, and the Rachel chick still looked skeptical, but she looked impressed as well.

Blaine started to move around a little, getting more into his performance. Maybe with time, he'd be able to perform at the Dalton level like he had his junior year.

I'm at a payphone trying to call home
All of my change I spent on you
Where have the times gone, baby it's all wrong
Where are the plans we made for two?

He started to rock out but not so much that his vocals were affected.

Why would Kurt say that earlier? This was amazing. And the New Directions gave him a lot more liberty than was tolerated with the Warblers.

If "Happy Ever After" did exist,
I would still be holding you like this

All those fairy tales are full of it.

One more stupid love song, I'll be sick

Oh, you turned your back on tomorrow
'Cause you forgot yesterday.
I gave you my love to borrow,
But you just gave it away.

Even the band seemed to enjoy it. Blaine couldn't be happier. He wrapped up the song, ending in the center of the choir room where he began. The club cheered, and Mr. Schue got out of his seat clapping with a wide grin.

"Wow, Blaine!" he said, smile widening. "Welcome to the New Directions."

….

This club was pretty amazing. Everyone had such wonderful voices. They wrapped up after talking about the set list for sectionals that would be here in a little over a month, and everyone welcomed Blaine into the New Directions. Santana did so with a squeeze of the ass, and Blaine yelped and blushed in response.

On the way out the door, he thought to text Kurt and tell him he was coming now, but realized they had yet to exchange numbers. He overheard Kurt's name in a conversation shared by a couple of guys behind him and turned around.

"Yeah dude. Kurt might cook that linguine stuff," one boy said, "it was so freaking good the first time he made it."

"Stop it, Finn, you're making me even hungrier," the other replied.

Blaine turned back and noticed the tall football player Finn, who he remembered was the quarterback and the blonde guy Sam who he'd see doing impressions of people in lunch yesterday. He smiled at them warmly before approaching, and they returned it.

"Hey dude, killer performace!" Sam said with a smile.

"Thanks," Blaine responded proudly, accepting Finn's handshake. "Um, I overheard you guys mention Kurt?"

"Oh yeah," Finn said with a nod, "We live with him. He's my step brother."

"And I'm just bunking there, ya know?"

Blaine nodded. "That's cool. We're working together on our French report, and I was thinking that maybe I could ride together with you guys? Save gas."

"Sure, dude." Finn said with a shrug. "Let's go."

….

When they pulled up, Quinn was leaving the house in a cloud of smoke and heading over to her car. Finn shook his head and slammed his car door shut. He didn't know what happened to his ex and his step-brother to make them decide and be pink and black rebels, but he didn't like it.

Blaine followed quietly behind the two footballers, watching as Finn unlocked the door and listening as Sam talked about how Rachel, Mercedes, and Tina had tried to get 'them' back into glee club but failed again. Blaine wasn't sure who 'them' was, but he thought they were crazy for not wanting to join glee club. It was so much fun!

When they entered the house, Kurt was spraying the living room with air freshener. He squirted the Febreeze into the air and shouted for Finn to open the window so it could air out before their dad got home. Finn shook his head, but did as he was asked.

"You have company," Sam announced, closing the door behind them. Blaine stood off to the side, taking a quick glance around the homey looking living room and sending a quick smile to Kurt.

"Oh yeah," Kurt said, pretending to have forgotten Blaine would be coming over. "Blaine. Hey."

"Hey." Blaine said with a smile.

"Blaine killed his glee club audition!" Finn said, giving the nerdy teen a vote of confidence. "You should've been there."

Kurt continued to spray the Febreeze, glaring at his taller step-brother in the process. Blaine raised his eyes at their odd behavior.

Eventually, after having enough of the glare, Sam and Finn made their way to the stairs.

"Have fun studying, dude… I mean if that's possible." Finn said before following after the blonde. Blaine thanked him and turned back towards Kurt.

"We'll be upstairs having a Halo marathon if you need us," Finn told Kurt, who finally finished his freshening of the air.

"I won't." Kurt responded.

Finn stopped, thinking about what he wanted to say before going forward with it.

"You know, Burt is probably going to find out about the smoking Kurt. He tolerates the tats and the piercings, but smoking… that's a whole new ballgame—"

"Go away, Frankenteen."

Finn frowned, but finally left.

Kurt put his hands on his waist and gave a quick sniff, making sure the smell was gone. He looked at Blaine afterwards and realized he was even more adorable than he was in second period.

Fuck my life, he thought, but spoke up a different thought instead.

"Are you thirsty or something, dweeb?"

Blaine shook his head no. "I'm fine. I did well in French today. You weren't there."

Kurt mussed his hair tiredly. "That I wasn't." he grabbed his cell phone off the coffee table and motioned towards the basement. "Wanna go downstairs to my room?"

The boy adjusted his frames and nodded, taking a few more steps inside. "Yeah."

….

Kurt noticed that his French partner was nosey as hell.

Blaine spent the first few minutes browsing around the basement, looking at all his things. He looked at the posters and the movies, music, books, scarf collection and eventually landed on the pictures. Kurt smiled as he watched him. He hadn't paid his room this much attention since he put everything up.

"Your room is really…" he trailed off, trying to process which word he really wanted to say, "I don't know. It doesn't suit you, I don't think."

Kurt lay back on his bed and shrugged. "It doesn't suit the skank me, I suppose."

Blaine glanced over at him after picking up a photo frame. "Are there two sides of you?"

The skank laughed softly, and it made Blaine smile. "There's a new me and an old me, you can say. New me hasn't redecorated yet."

Blaine nodded his understanding. He wondered what old Kurt was like. Old Kurt would probably be nice to him. "Is this your mom?"

Kurt glanced up to see which photo Blaine had, and it was the one from when he was about five, being held in his mother's arms as she squeezed him tightly, both wearing wide smiles.

"Yeah."

"She's beautiful," Blaine said looking down at the photo. "You look like her."

Kurt tried not to overanalyze the fact that Blaine may've just called him beautiful, but then Blaine was speaking again.

"Without the eyebrow piercing… and that one on your nose…"

"Fuck you," Kurt said with a grin, rolling over to face the opposite direction. Blaine smiled at him, trying not to pay too much attention to the curve of his hips in those sinfully tight jeans. Eventually, he put the photo down after smiling at a young Kurt with joy swimming in his blue eyes, and walked over to join Kurt on the bed.

"We should start," he said, "I have a curfew on school days. Well weekend, too…"

Kurt deadpanned at him. What a dweeb. He shrugged though, and agreed, moving to grab for his laptop.

"So what country did you want to do?"

"Madagascar!" Blaine said with finality, basically telling Kurt that they were studying Madagascar and there was nothing he could do about it, but not in so many words.

Kurt rolled his eyes and was about to insult him before his partner's phone rang. Blaine excused himself after noticing who it was and faced the wall to speak in what he hoped to be a shushed voice.

"Hey honey."

Kurt's ears seemed to perk at this. So he was talking to his boyfriend…

"Just with a friend…" A pause.

"He's tutoring me in French while we work on our paper—yes I said he."

Kurt rolled his eyes. Sounds like he had a jealous one on his hands.

"Well you live two hours away, honey… this is a lot more convenient, and I didn't think you'd wanna spend our time alone doing French when we could be…" he lowered his voice a little more so that it came out in the sexiest register Kurt had ever heard, "doing other things."

That went straight to his cock.

"I know. I'll call you as soon as I'm home."

He hung up the phone after making an obnoxious kissing sound, and Kurt rolled his eyes at that whole situation. Stupid cute nerd and his stupid boyfriend having cute moments on the phone in his room.

"Sorry about that," Blaine apologized, reaching for his backpack and taking out his books.

Kurt shrugged. "What's his name?"

"Gregory." the teen answered, "He's from my old school in Westerville."

"Oh."

"Yeah." they were both quiet while they got their things out, and Blaine was lost in thought before he continued. "We're trying to make it work, but it's difficult. It was a lot easier when he's a couple dorms away. Now… " Kurt listened intently, even watching Blaine's facial expressions for signs of… anything unusual, he guessed. "Now, it's just not as easy."

Kurt nodded. "I hope it works out for you."

Blaine smiled at the response. "Thanks. It feels like you're actually my friend." he said with a laugh, "I thought I was lying when I told him that, but I don't know. I think you like me."

Kurt snorted and Blaine smiled even harder, finding it adorable. "Don't get your hopes up. I doubt Greg wants you having a friend like me anyway."

Blaine's smile dropped a little. "That doesn't matter."

"Let's just start," Kurt said instead of what he actually wanted to. Blaine nodded and waited expectantly for direction.

"First, let's go over what you learned about in class today."

"The alphabet and how to count."

Kurt smiled, shaking his head. "Okay, recite the alphabet."

Blaine smiled, doing as told. He only slipped up on a few letters, one of those being 'K', which made Kurt pinch him. Blaine smiled but said it again, getting it right.

Eventually they moved to the discussion of their project. Kurt promised they'd start the basics and everything Blaine would need to know to do relatively well on exams, but he planned on working on the hard stuff while he was alone and needed all the information.

"I think that we can somehow include the film Madagascar in this paper. Melman is my favorite character. He is often misunderstood, just like myself." Blaine just kept speaking, not giving Kurt a chance to get a word in edge wise. "Sometimes I feel like I'm just that awkward guy out, you know? Like Melman. I'm just the odd man out most of the time."

Kurt only stared at him.

"I can totally identify with Marty, though. Like in the second movie, he wanted to be apart of the click— fit in— but at the same time show his uniqueness. I think that's me at times. That was me at Dalton, and even here."

"How in the fuck did you get laid?"

Blaine smiled. "It was quite simple. I put my penis in his—"

"Whoa!" Kurt flushed red, looking down at their books. "I'm not asking for the mechanics!"

Blaine noticed the blush on his friend's cheeks, and the way he kept avoiding his eyes. His own eyes widened once he realized what this was. But it couldn't be…

"Oh my gosh!"

Kurt finally looked up at him because of the outburst. "What?"

"You're a virgin, aren't you?" Blaine said with a grin, pointing his finger accusingly. Kurt slapped his hand away and tried his best not to falter.

"Why would you think something crazy like that?"

Blaine shook his head, laughing in the process. "Oh my gosh, Kurt the skank is a virgin!"

"No I'm not!"

"Kurt!" he smiled, placing a hand on the teen's shoulder which was quickly slapped away, "Don't be ashamed… it's not a bad thing at all."

"Blaine," Kurt breathed out, not feeling this embarrassed in a long time. "Just stop."

"I just got an idea," the dark haired teen answered, smiling as he stroked his chin. "As a thank you for helping me," Blaine motioned to himself, still grinning, "I'll hook you up with a guy. I know just the person—"

"Get out." Kurt shook his head in disbelief that this was even happening. "Just leave."

"I'm trying to help—"

"Leave Blaine."

Blaine frowned, gathering his things. "Fine."

He finally finished packing, pulling his suspenders up and over his shoulders and putting his bag over them as well.

"I bet if you got laid you wouldn't be so uptight."

"Out!" Kurt shouted, resorting to flinging a pack of cigarettes. Blaine smirked and ran up the steps.

Kurt shook his head, wanting to hit something. He was fucking ruined. All Blaine had to do was tell one person and his reputation fell greatly. Reaching for his iPhone, he dialed Quinn's number.

"Can you come back over?"