Blaine left shortly after, telling Kurt that he really did need to go figure out what he’d missed in class and work on it. They hugged in the doorway, Blaine feeling warm and safe with Kurt around him, and then he left.
Along with studying, though, he also had to be alone so he could think. Because Maia had been right- they needed to consider their relationship and decide where to go with it. Ignoring the problems and barreling through obliviously wasn’t going to help either one of them. It had been childish of Blaine to think that he could just hide away with Kurt and not take Maia’s advice. It had also been childish to get smashed after their fight- Blaine was only thankful that he hadn’t drunk dialed Maia, because that would have been a disaster.
When he drove back towards campus from Kurt’s, he felt clear-headed and in-control. He knew that Kurt was partly to thank for that. Finally, he was ready to look over the choices he’d made, whether they were right, and how to fix everything that was wrong.

When Blaine awoke the next morning in order to get ready for class, he had a new text from Maia.
Meet me at Starbucks after class?
Blaine stared at the text for a moment, taking a deep breath.
I’ll be there, he replied.
It was a chilly day in Lima. It was Blaine’s last day of class before the three-day Thanksgiving break. He put on his heavier jacket before leaving his dorm. His English class was sparsely populated, and the professor let them out early. Blaine headed to his car and drove to Starbucks, taking his time.
Maia was already there, standing just inside the door. She looked beautiful; she wore a dark-green wool coat over a gray dress that Blaine had always liked, white stockings underneath. Her hair was windblown, falling haphazardly over her shoulders. She smiled at Blaine when he entered the store, and then opened her arms. Blaine stepped forward, bringing them together in an embrace. He breathed in her scent, strong but comfortable. They pulled apart.
“Hi,” Maia said.
“Hello,” Blaine answered, smiling slightly.
They bought drinks and then took them outside and sat at one of the patio tables. Blaine turned the collar up on his jacket. With the cold weather, they were the only ones outside.
“So...” Blaine began, unsure of what to say.
“Can we agree on something?” Maia asked hesitantly.
Blaine cocked his head. “What?”
“Let’s just be honest, okay?” she said. “No holding back, no lies, no half-truths. Let’s just say what we really mean for once.”
Blaine stared at her, and then he nodded. “That sounds great,” he told her. And it did- their relationship was recently too riddled with secrecy and misunderstanding. Not only that, but today, right then, Blaine was feeling weightless. He didn’t know why, but he felt like he could be himself. Like he could tell the truth. Like he didn’t have to hide anything.
Maia took a deep breath, staring at her coffee cup. She looked up and met Blaine’s eye. “I want to say that I’m sorry, first. I’m sorry for going through your phone, and I’m sorry for overreacting. I still don’t exactly...understand your friendship with Kurt, but that doesn’t give me the right to breach your privacy. I was confused, and worried, but it was out of line. So I’m sorry.”
Blaine nodded. “Apology accepted. And I’m sorry for lying to you. I’m sorry for not telling you everything. Just because you don’t understand doesn’t mean I shouldn’t tell you.”
Maia let out her breath. “Okay, we’re both sorry. Good.” She smiled tentatively.
Blaine returned her smile, but it didn’t feel quite right. He wasn’t happy. Their apologies had an air of finality to them- as if they were wrapping up, making some closure. He felt peaceful, perhaps, as though he were ready to accept what was coming. But that didn’t mean he liked it.
“Look, Blaine,” Maia said slowly. Blaine watched as the slight wind blew errant strands of her hair. “You’re amazing. And you really have been a wonderful boyfriend to me. You’re a great guy.”
Blaine chuckled humorlessly. “This feels a little cliche,” he told her. “There’s a ‘but,’ isn’t there?”
Maia sighed sadly. “Yeah,” she said. “Cliche aside. But, while we had a really great relationship, it stopped being great recently.”
Blaine nodded, letting her go on.
“And, no matter how I look at it and try to think it through, I just...” Maia’s voice was becoming choked. “I just can’t see a way for us to work through it.” Her eyes were watery, and as she finished her sentence a single tear slipped down her right cheek. She wiped at it with the sleeve of her coat, and then looked up at Blaine, waiting.
Blaine sighed, leaning forward over the table. “I know, Maia. I can’t either. We’re just...too different now from who we were when we first started dating.” Blaine swallowed thickly over the lump in his throat. Maia nodded.
“Blaine, I really did think I loved you. Or a part of you. Or what I thought was you.”
Blaine smiled, feeling his eyes begin to tear up. He reached forward and took Maia’s hand in his, squeezing it hard. More tears were falling down her face. “I’m sorry for what I said at the mall. When I told you I loved you. But even if that wasn’t true, one-hundred percent...I do love parts of you, Maia. Even if it’s not the right love or it’s not the right time...I do love you, somehow. And I’ll always love what we had.”
Maia nodded, wiping at her face with her free hand. “Thank you, Blaine.”
Blaine nodded, staring into her dark brown eyes. “Thank you, Maia.”

Blaine got back to his dorm and threw out his now-cold coffee. He hadn’t drank much of it during or after his break-up with Maia. He closed and locked his dormroom door, and sat down on his bed. Then he cried. He clutched the side of his bed and sobbed. He thought of all the wonderful times he’d had with Maia. He thought of sleeping next to her, cuddling with her all night when her parents were away. He thought of walks around campus and study dates and laughing at dumb movies. He remembered the feel of her fingers entwined in his and how her lips felt and tasted. He was heartbroken.
Then he remembered the unintentionally-snide comments, the forgotten dates, the lonely and confusing nights after unsatisfying conversations. All the times Maia left him feeling empty and unimportant. He cried and he yelled, alone in his dorm. He was angry. He called her awful names aloud and then immediately rescinded them. He threw all of his pillows across the room, knocked over organized stacks of textbooks, found the empty rum bottle from the other night and impulsively smashed it against the wall. He spent the following twenty minutes picking up shards of glass, squatting on the floor, his throat raw, the tears on his face drying. He calmed his breath as he cleaned up the mess, and by the time he’d deposited all the glass bits he could find into his wastebasket, he felt peaceful again. Not happy, but tranquil.
He was going to be okay.