Blaine hadn’t seen Maia since the Friday night I-Love-You disaster. He’d called her Saturday night to make sure she was okay, and texted her throughout Sunday, but they hadn’t really had a conversation. They’d just chatted about inconsequential things. Blaine was a little bit worried about what would happen when they moved beyond useless chatter.

“Maia is fine,” he said to his parents, hoping but not truly believing that that would hold them off, satisfy them.

Blaine’s father cut his meat while asking Blaine, “You should have her over for dinner again. It’s been ages.”

Blaine clenched his teeth. Maia had accompanied him to his family dinners(on his parents’ insistence) a few times in the past. She actually seemed to enjoy them more than Blaine, but perhaps being interrogated was a novelty to her. “She’s pretty busy right now. Finals coming up, and whatnot.” Perhaps if he could steer the conversation back towards school, they would let off.

“Has she declared her degree yet?” Blaine’s mother asked, and he could tell that she wasn’t just asking about Maia. They’d been hounding him to hurry up and pick a degree for months.

“Not officially,” Blaine responded with emphasis. “But she’s strongly leaning towards Global Studies.”

“Hmm,” Mr. Anderson mumbled skeptically before swallowing his pot roast. “Is that a…newer degree?” He sounded wary, disapproving. Blaine was a bit fed up with his father’s constant disparagement.

Blaine sighed. “I don’t know. I’m sure you could look it up online if you’re really interested.”

The reply had come out snappier than Blaine had meant it. There was a moment of silence, besides silverware clanking on china plates.

“I’m sorry, Dad.” Blaine finally said, unable to take it any more. “That was rude. Yes, I think it’s rather new.”

Blaine’s father nodded. “It’s all right. I know you’re stressed.”

No, you don’t, Blaine thought.

Sunday dinner was turning out even worse than usual. Blaine closed his eyes for a moment and told himself to grin and bear it.

“So, Mom.” He said, opening his eyes. “Are you helping organize that gala again this year?”

Blaine mother smiled, her eyes lighting up. “Yes, in fact, I am! I really think it’s going to be grand…”

Mrs. Anderson went on about the charity ball for some local organization. She had plenty to say, and for once Blaine was thankful for her many community duties that, as a child, had made him feel borderline neglected. At least he didn’t have to talk about himself anymore. He was a bit sick of himself.

Once he’d gotten back to his dorm that night, Blaine fell onto his bed. Dinner with his parents sucked all the energy out of him. Sighing, he got up to take off his clothes and set an alarm. He lay back down wearing sweats and a T-shirt and turned out his light. Even though he felt tired, he couldn’t fall asleep. Something was bothering him, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He took his phone off the bedside table. He knew that Maia would probably be sleeping already. He wasn’t sure he wanted to talk to her yet, anyway. Not before he saw her, so that he could gauge her expressions and make sure she was okay. Instead, he sent a message to Kurt.

What’re you doing tomorrow?

He stared at his dark ceiling until he got a reply.

Helping my dad out at the shop. Why?

Blaine bit his lip. He thought about setting down the phone and just going to sleep. But he wouldn’t be able to get to sleep, he knew.

Just need to go somewhere besides campus and my parents’ house. I think I’m going crazy.

Kurt’s response was quicker this time.

I can set up a psychiatric help booth outside the tire shop tomorrow.

Blaine smiled.

An appraisal for five cents?

He stared at the screen until it lit up.

Special deal for you: First session is free.

Blaine’s heart jumped slightly. He was so glad he finally had a friend again, someone he could joke with and go to for help. Especially if he’d messed things up with Maia.

There’s an offer I can’t turn down.

After sending the text, Blaine put his phone down and rolled over. He was asleep within minutes.

Kurt stared at his phone, his heart aching softly. If he hadn’t promised his father that they’d have some quality bonding time at the tire shop(which would mostly comprise of Kurt handing his dad various tools under a car), he’d choose to hang out with Blaine in a second. He knew it. Especially when it seemed like Blaine might open up to him-might let him see more pieces of the giant puzzle that boy seemed to be. He’d always avoided the topic of his parents when it came up, but did this mean he was asking to talk to Kurt about them? There was so much Kurt wanted to know about Blaine. It excited him, thinking about everything he could learn.

He debated how to reply for several minutes, before finally sending Blaine a final text for the night.

Even a crazy person wouldn’t refuse that.

The next morning, Kurt was woken up by his father.

“Come on, up! I’m leaving soon.”

Kurt covered his eyes against the light. “Do I have to?” he whined.

“Only if you want to please your father,” Burt teased. He closed the door rather loudly behind him.

Yawning, Kurt got out of bed. He showered and changed into clothes he didn’t mind getting dirty-an old, dark blue T-shirt and some straight-leg Levi’s jeans. He combed his hair, not bothering to style it, and then went downstairs to get breakfast and leave with his dad.

Kurt wasn’t a huge fan of getting dirty or fixing cars, which was mostly what went on in Hummel Tires and Lube. Regardless, he’d always liked visiting his dad at the shop. Burt always seemed so at ease there, at home. That tire shop was the one thing that had stayed constant throughout their life in Lima. It was comforting, in a sense; Kurt might not always have a mom, or a stable school situation, or a bright future, but he would always have that tire shop.

As predicted, Kurt spent most of the morning sitting on the ground next to various cars and handing his dad tools. Kurt knew a couple things about cars, and he could name everything under the hood(though not necessarily fix it if it broke). What happened underneath cars, though, was a mystery to him, one he didn’t really want to solve so badly that he’d lie on his back underneath a car that was most likely leaking something. He didn’t have a car in New York, anyway, so it didn’t concern him too much.

After a break for lunch, bought at the deli across the street, Burt had Kurt sit in the front office and fill out paperwork(which was the only part of his job Burt wasn’t particularly fond of). Kurt agreed, mostly because he was getting cramps from sitting against cars.

Kurt sat in his father’s desk, filling out papers, when someone knocked on the glass. Kurt glanced up from a form, expecting to see a customer that he’d have to direct back to the garage.

Instead, standing outside the office, he saw Blaine looking in at him.