Kurt walked up the wide steps of McKinley on his second day of school hoping for a better outcome than the day before. This year wasn't going to be about drama or boys or Blaine. It was about Kurt and getting out of Lima. It was about proving that he was better than everyone else in this shit town. It was about——

"Fuck!" Kurt fumed when a cold slushie hit his face.

"See you later, fag!" Karofsky yelled, high fiving Azimio as they continued down the hallway. It's just Kurt's luck that at that moment, Blaine passed by.

"You alright, babe?" Kurt heard—- what was that—— concern in his voice?

"Ya, I'm fine. Just leave me alone." He tried remaining calm.

"Are you sure? You need some help? I could be of very good assistance." The shorter boy said suggestively.

"No! Just go away. I can handle this myself. I don't need any of your 'assistance'."

"I've been told I'm very good," Blaine whispered in Kurt's ear. He saw that he wasn't going to get anything out of Kurt. At least not right now, "Alright, babe, see you in a few!" He shook Kurt off and walked smoothly past.

"And don't call me babe!" Kurt said, a little angrier.

"Whatever you say, babe." Blaine called back.

Kurt rolled his stinging eyes and headed off to get extra clothes and wash up.

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It sucked for Kurt to say that he was used to this, but it was true. It was routine for him and the jocks. Whether it was slushies, lockers, or dumpsters, he would get shoved into or have something shoved into his face everyday. And whether he liked it or not, it was just the order of the teenage food chain around here. He was gay and not involved in any sports, making him a big target. The Glee kids had it worse though. They sung show tunes and even if you were one of the few Cheerios or jocks in that club, you were still in a club made up of a measly 111/2 members ("the cripple" Kurt had heard Sue Sylvester say once). Kurt was slushied once, maybe twice, daily; but the Glee Club kids got them about three times, maybe more, per day.

He had met a few of the Glee Club members in the washroom, but only managed to tolerate Mercedes Jones, Santana Lopez, and Brittany S. Peirce. He could tolerate Santana because they had the same sense of humor, Brittany because he knew she was too innocent and stupid to do any harm, and Mercedes because, well, he actually didn't know why. She was kind and she didn't berate him to join Glee Club constantly, he guessed. She also had a kick ass sense of style. Kurt appreciated and admired that, but would never tell anyone.

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"So who got you?" Mercedes once asked as they were both cleaning blue and red slushie out of their hair.

"Azimio and Karofsky. How 'bout you?"

"Same."

"Man, those to douches are everywhere, aren't they?" Kurt joked, and earned a small giggle out of Mercedes.

"I know what you mean. Every single corner I turn, there they are. Or one of their equally stupid and egotistical girlfriends."

"Amen to that," Kurt looked over to the shorter girl, "here, let me help you with that." He said, noticing she was having troubles getting some out at the back of her head. It was uncharacteristically nice for Kurt to do something selfless like this, but he felt good about it. He knew her struggles, and she knew his. It almost seemed like they were—- friends? Kurt didn't get to say that about people much. He knew how homophobic this town was, and remained mostly to himself for safety.

*************************

He had come out in tenth grade, and the bully started immediately. The only person that seemed accepting at first was his dad. And even he was a little weird about it. But after a while, Burt and Kurt realized that they couldn't avoid the concept, so they sat down and talked about it, and have been getting gradually closer and closer every day since. Kurt was so glad to have his father in his life. He was so broken after his mother's death, and he knew Burt was too, but Burt found strength to get them both through.

Kurt was also glad that Burt was okay when he started leaning towards being a Skank. His father knew this was just his way of self-expression, and after all the shit he goes through everyday at school, he's not going to take away that basic right from him. Besides, Kurt was still a good kid. He helped around the garage and made dinner and did laundry and tons of other everyday chores. He didn't go out partying nearly as much as the other kids in Lima did, and when he did, it was only small parties with Quinn and the other Skanks. Burt was proud of his son and himself and what they've managed to accomplish since his wife's passing.

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Kurt strode into his English class 20 minutes late as per usual, handed Mr. Henderson the late slip, and took a seat at the back by himself. At least he was buy himself for about 10 seconds.

"Hey, Princess." Blaine slid swiftly into the adjacent chair.

"What did I say about the names?" Kurt shot him a dirty look.

"You told me not to call you 'babe'. You didn't specify on anything else."

"Well now I am. No names."

"Can't promise that, babe."

"Fuck! Why can't you just leave me alone? What the hell do you want from me? Am I just some kind of practical joke to you?"

"Calm down, babe."

"No! Fucking leave me alone! I don't want to talk to you!" Kurt got up and stormed out the classroom, knocking a few things down and over on his way.

"Mr. Hummel! Get back here this instant!" The teacher yelled.
Kurt just flipped him off and ran out of the school into the parking lot. He unlocked his car, hopped in, and drove off to the only place he ever found complete privacy.