Aug. 5, 2012, 8:01 p.m.
The Fallacy of Trust: Chapter 9
T - Words: 1,264 - Last Updated: Aug 05, 2012 Story: Complete - Chapters: 32/32 - Created: Mar 15, 2012 - Updated: Aug 05, 2012 1,855 0 0 0 1
Kurt got back home around five. He’d simply told his parents that he was ‘going to get coffee’, not that coffee involved another person, so he hurried upstairs when he got inside, hoping to avoid questions. He knew that if they asked he could easily tell them- the boy who drove me home on Sunday, we just met up at a café- but for some reason he didn’t want to. As if saying it out loud, sharing it with someone, would make it more real and therefore more heartbreaking.
But as Kurt lay on his bed in his room, he realized that he had to tell someone. Because as heartbreaking as it would be if it were real, it would be even worse if it wasn’t.
Kurt pulled out his phone and composed a new text message.
I know you’re roaming, but can you call me?
Rachel texted back within minutes.
Is there gossip involved?
Kurt grinned, typing back an answer.
It’s super juicy, too.
Moments later, he received a call from a strange number(he couldn’t be sure, but he didn’t think it had ten digits).
“Hello?”
“Bonjour, mon ami!”
Kurt laughed. “Vous etes en France, alors?”
“Oui!” Rachel answered enthusiastically.
“Okay, enough. I haven’t had a French class in years and I can’t say much more than that.”
Rachel giggled. “I swear, it all comes back to you once you’re surrounded by the language.”
“Lucky you. Are you in Paris?”
“Not yet. We get there tomorrow. I’ll probably be sleeping for most of the day, though.”
“What time is it there?” Kurt asked, suddenly remembering that he should have taken that into account.
“About two AM. But don’t worry, I wasn’t sleeping anyway. My schedule is so messed up. I keep nearly falling asleep at museums and restaurants.”
Kurt laughed at the image of Rachel plummeting face-first into a plate of authentic French food, overtaken by fatigue. “Sorry about that.”
“Don’t worry. I’m still having a blast. I’ve been watching French soap operas in the hotel room. It’s tres interesting.”
Kurt rolled his eyes. “I’m glad you’re soaking up culture.”
“Anyway, what was this gossip you were going to tell me?” Rachel asked eagerly.
Kurt sighed, rolling over and propping himself up on his elbows. “Okay, so I met this guy.”
“Oooh! It’s boy drama?!”
Kurt sighed. “Not exactly. His name is Blaine. He’s going to college here in Lima. And he’s straight.”
“Not once you’re finished with him,” Rachel said suggestively.
“Highly doubtful, Berry. He’s got a girlfriend.”
“Oh. Damn.”
“Exactly. But he seems to really like me! I mean, as a friend. We had coffee today. As friends. And I keep trying to remind myself that he’s unavailable on every single level, but he keeps saying and doing these things that just make me want to fall for him. He tells me secrets and he’s super cute and athletic and smart and he has this great curly hair and these eyes…Oh God, it’s worse than I thought.”
“Deep breath, sweetie.” Rachel said. “It’s okay. Maybe you should stop hanging out with him, if it’s such a big deal.”
Kurt rolled over on to his back again, staring at the ceiling. “But he wants to hang out with me more. We’re practically already making plans for Saturday. It’s like he’s leading me on and he doesn’t even know it.”
Rachel sighed. “Well, you’ve got a couple of options. Keep hanging out with him, be his friend, and get over your feelings. Or, stop hanging out with him, wait ‘til you get back to New York, and find a totally hot guy there.”
Kurt snorted. “Yeah, because that’s been working so well for me so far.”
“Or,” Rachel went on. “Wow him with your sensuality, and make him drop the girlfriend and cross over to the other side.”
“Rachel!”
“Sheesh, just a suggestion. It’s my personal favorite, so far.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m jetlagged.”
“No excuse.” Kurt was smiling, though. He knew Rachel would make him feel better.
“So what’re you gonna do?”
Kurt chewed his lip, considering. “I think I’m gonna hang out with him Saturday, and see where it goes. If it gets to be too much, I’ll stop seeing him.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Rachel yawned. “Ooh! I’m going to try to get some sleep while I can.”
“Okay. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Love you!”
“Love you too.”
Rachel hung up, and Kurt rested his phone on his chest. Je suis content de l’avoir, he thought.
Blaine got back to his dorm and spent the evening reading for various classes and watching TV. It was a quiet night in for him, but he didn’t mind. He was okay with being alone. He bought his dinner on campus but retreated to his room with it, not in the mood for socializing. He’d had a wonderful afternoon of the strange feeling of freedom he got around Kurt, and he didn’t want to mar the experience by having to consciously remember how to act around others again. He was content to bask in the memory of his meeting with Kurt by himself.
That night, as he lay in bed and tried to fall asleep, his mind again found itself on Cooper. He had long wondered what it would be like to have an older brother. To have someone besides his parents to turn to. He imagined that, had Cooper lived, he would be a great brother. Supportive and kind, but also teasing in a sibling sort of way. He imagined that they’d have played pranks on eachother and built blanket forts in their childhood. That Cooper would have been who he’d turned to for advice about girls, and college. He wondered what it would be like if he had someone who had already left the house and started his own life, giving Blaine some sort of guideline for what to do as he slowly became an adult. He imagined that Cooper would have inherited the tall genes from their father(Blaine’s lack of height came from his mother’s side) and would always be taller and bigger and stronger. He would tease Blaine about his height and while Blaine would act offended, he would always be sort of glad that he had a big brother to protect him, to face the world with.
Blaine rolled over, closed his eyes, and tried to project the photos of toddler Cooper in his parents’ house into an adult. His older brother and his best friend. It was easy to slip into sleep then-he was already dreaming.
Blaine didn’t have any classes with Maia, but on Fridays he always met her outside of her art class at 4:30. This Friday was no different. She came out of the classroom, her glossy hair pulled into a bun, with a few strands escaping and flickering in the breeze. Blaine noticed just how dark she looked against the gray-sky background, with her chocolate-colored hair and tanned skin(even in November) and brown eyes. She approached him, and he smiled.
“Hey,” he said, leaning in to give her a kiss. He tasted the fake-cherry flavor of her sticky lip gloss. He’d never really liked it when she put stuff on her lips-he preferred them bare and soft and natural.
“Hey there,” she replied, taking his hand. “Are you ready?” she asked.
“Ready for what?”
She grinned, showing her white teeth. “For dinner tonight.”
“Oh, right. Sure.”
Maia frowned slightly. “Why don’t you dress up a little? We’ll go to the nice Thai place.”
“Okay,” Blaine said. He’d been semi-looking forward to a cozy night in her house, but he wouldn’t argue with her.
“Pick me up at six?” She asked, twisting her pinky around his.
“Sure.”
She leaned forward, kissing him on the cheek. “I’ll see you then.”
She turned away then, her hand slipping out of his, and headed towards the parking lot. Blaine watched her go, her slim hips swinging back and forth.