Chapter 8

Kurt let out a deep breath as he entered the cafeteria, heading straight for the table occupied only by Mercedes and Rachel. It was the safer choice; the Cheerio table was too close to where all of the Jocks were seated.

Thoughts of Karofsky had plagued his mind, keeping him up the night before. He just didn’t get it. It seemed so unreal and Kurt was almost able to believe he had dreamt it, until he realized that his mind could never fathom something like that. The harder Kurt thought about it, the more it made sense. But then again, when he thought even harder, it didn’t make any sense at all.

He didn’t even know what to feel. His brain was so overloaded with images and words and feelings. Confusion, anger, resentment, sorrow. But Kurt didn’t want to feel those; he didn’t even want to recognize that yesterday happened at all. He did his best to push everything away and put on a fake smile, hoping his two best friends would calm his mind.

Kurt sat down in his usual seat, next to Mercedes with Rachel across the table. Mercedes immediately scooted closer to Kurt, a smile filling up her face.

“Hey Kurt! What happened? I tried texting, but you never answered.”

Of course I didn’t

Once Kurt had gotten home yesterday, he turned off his phone and dropped it into one of his dresser drawers, trying his hardest to ignore the outside world.

“I went to bed early last night and forgot to plug it in. I guess it died.”

Mercedes lifted an eyebrow and gave Kurt a questioning yet playful glance.

“Really? You went to bed early? ‘Cause it looks like you haven’t slept at all.”

Kurt gave a small chuckle. He glanced over at the Jock’s table and noticed that Karofsky hadn’t made it to lunch yet. He let himself relax a bit and a smile slowly planted itself on his face.

“I guess I’m still tired. Shouldn’t be surprising. The way Coach Sue’s working us I’m surprised any of us are still alive.”

Mercedes let out a quick laugh, but she was still concerned, and she was about to say something when Rachel’s voice popped up on the other side of the table.

“You really look terrible, Kurt. You should try my new intensive moisturizing cream. My two gay dads just got back from their second honeymoon to Paris, it was very romantic. They stayed at the Hotel du Jeu de Paume and had a candle lit dinner in a little bistro overlooking the Seine River.”

Rachel took a second to swoon,

“Anyways, they brought me back top dollar facial and hair care products.”

She finished her little speech with a small nod of the head and began to rustle through her bag.

Kurt just stared at her with an odd look on his face.

“Uh, no…thanks…”

Rachel looked up at Kurt and placed a hand on his arm, and said in her most concerned voice, 

“Are you sure? Because you look like death.”

Kurt stared at the hand on his arm for a second while he decided what to do. Figuring that in order to keep up with this, ‘I’m perfectly happy’ façade, it would be better to just accept the cream and move on.

“On second thought, I’ll take it. You can never have too many skin care products.”

He took the cream from her hand, and she gave a quick grin before moving on to her favorite topic:

Herself.

“Well, anyways, I was discussing Sectionals with Mr. Schue today.”

She waited, wide eyed, hoping for them start begging her for information. But they both just stared at Rachel, already bored of hearing her voice.

“Aren’t you going to ask me about it?”

Mercedes lifted an eyebrow in response.

“Well, fine. I’ll tell you, even though you are so obviously uninterested.”

Though Rachel put on a pouty face, she was secretly very excited to start talking about herself again.

“Mr. Schue is set on ruining my life. I was trying to convince him to let Finn and me take the duet spot, since our voices blend together flawlessly and I have the perfect moving ballad for us that will definitely get him to love me again, but since he’s absolutely set on his psychotic idea to give what is rightfully mine to less talented people, I’ve decided to focus my thoughts on choosing my song for the solo spot. I know Mr. Schue hasn’t officially given it to me yet, but I really am the obvious choice. I was thinking either ‘My Heart Will Go On’ by Celine Dion - a classic crowd pleaser, which we all know would suit my voice perfectly, or ‘Memory’ from Cats, which would obviously suit my voice perfectly as well. I tried to explain the complexities of both songs to him, but he just walked off to go talk to Ms. Holliday and said he’d ‘get back to me’.”

Rachel’s brow furrowed for a second before she continued on,

“So I need your guys’ help. Which song would best showcase my voice and floor the judges so I can win us Sectionals?”

She smiled brilliantly at them for a second before Mercedes jumped into the conversation.

“Ah hell to the no! Listen to me Little Princess,-“

But Kurt had tuned out; for once he was grateful for Rachel’s selfishness. All of the crazy that was spewing out of her mouth allowed any slight deviation of his behavior go unnoticed. He took this opportunity to let his mind be filled with the non-stop buzzing of Rachel talking and Mercedes repeatedly telling her to ‘take a step back’ and reminding her that she’s ‘not the only one here who can sing’.

But his head didn’t go blank for long. As much as he tried to stop it, his mind slipped back to Karofsky.

However, this time he didn’t feel a flush of emotion, just one; pity.

Karofsky was angry, but not because he hated others. He hated himself. And though Kurt didn’t agree with his violent methods of coping, he was finally beginning to understand them.

Maybe he just needs someone to help him through it. Maybe that kiss was his way of reaching out.

As much dislike as he had for Karofsky, Kurt knew he had to be the one to talk to him. Maybe that’s all he needed, a friend who understood what he was going through. Who wouldn’t judge him or get at him about it. Because as confusing as this whole thing was to Kurt, it had to be more confusing for Karofsky.

Kurt opened his mouth about to share this with his friends, but stopped himself before any words could come out. He couldn’t tell them, he couldn’t tell anyone. It would be outing Karofsky before he had even begun to accept his sexuality. Besides, there was no possible way they could understand how Karofsky felt. Kurt barely did.

And at that moment, Kurt decided that he would at least try to help Karofsky. It may not be easy for either of them, damn, it may be the hardest thing either of them had ever done, but Karofsky needed someone and Kurt knew it had to be him.

It was the last class of the day, and after listening to the monotonous droning of Mr. Gregory for the better half of an hour, Kurt was falling asleep on his desk. When he noticed that a bit of drool had begun to dribble out of his mouth, he knew that had had to get out of there.

Kurt stepped out into the hallway, bathroom pass in hand, hoping that a short walk would perk him up. He took his time, not at all eager to get back to his class, wandering the halls and letting his mind fill up with nothingness, glad to have a moment of peace and quiet for once.

He passed by the bathroom and, after a bit of internal debate, decided it would be a good idea to splash some water on his face.

Kurt pushed open the door to the bathroom and audibly gasped as he spotted Karofsky standing at the sink, washing his hands.

Kurt knew this was probably the only chance he was going to get. It was now or never.

He took a deep breath and quietly made his way over to the sink next to Karofsky’s.

Kurt turned on the faucet and began to wash his hands, waiting for Karofsky to realize he was there. When it was obvious the Jock was completely oblivious to his presence, Kurt realized that he was probably going to have to start the conversation himself.

Karofsky’s hand was on the faucet, about to turn off the water, when he heard Kurt speak.

“Hey, um, about yesterday-”

Karofsky’s grip tightened at the sound of Kurt’s voice, and he almost broke the faucet off of the sink. He paused for a moment, trying to get his breathing under control. He then turned away from Kurt, quickly dried his hands and with a stiff back, he began to walk out of the bathroom.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But Kurt wasn’t about to give up on this. He almost ran to keep pace with Karofsky as he followed him out of the bathroom.

“Look, I know this must be confusing for you, it not the easiest thing to come to terms with, but maybe if you just talked to someone about it I’m sure-”

Karofsky just kept walking, and Kurt barely heard his reply

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

Kurt tried to keep a tone of caring in his voice, which was becoming a lot harder.

“This isn’t just gonna disappear. I know it’s hard, but I’m always here if you need me. I know what it’s like and I may be able to help you.”

Karofsky looked panicked as he glanced around the hallway, as if he was making sure that no one was around to hear their conversation.

“You don’t know anything! Now leave me alone!”

Karofsky picked up his pace, but Kurt caught up with him and grabbed his arm so they could actually talk.

“Would you calm down?! Getting angry about this isn’t going to help. Coming out is a difficult thing to do-”

Kurt’s words where once again silenced when Karofsky turned to face Kurt and let out a violent grunt as   he slammed him up against the wall. All the sympathy and understanding drained out of Kurt’s face. He just closed his eyes and took a deep breath, almost accepting the abuse.

Karofsky’s face hardened and he was no longer filled with panic, but control.

“I don’t know what you think happened yesterday, Hummel, but you better not tell anyone how-” He lowered his voice, even though the hallways were empty, “how you kissed me.”

When Kurt opened his eyes, they were a blazing inferno.

 “How I- what? You kissed me, Karofsky.”

“Shut up!”

The larger boy shoved Kurt into the wall a bit harder than before, making him wince and briefly shut his eyes. When they opened back up, they met with Karofsky’s. But there was something unnerving about Karofsky’s eyes. They were no longer filled with the uncontrollable rage of a tropical storm. Instead, he just stared at Kurt, almost calmly. Like the eye of a hurricane. Underneath the calm outer shell, there was something, Kurt couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was exactly, but it made a chill run down his spine.

Karofsky removed his hands from Kurt’s arms and let them fall to his sides. Kurt almost let himself relax, but he knew that this was far from over.

After a few seconds of silence, Karofsky spoke.

“You better not tell anyone what happened,”

He stopped his sentence and stared at the boy for a second longer before his eyes traveled down. Karofsky’s gaze seemed to be a bit dazed as he just stood there, fixed on Kurt’s neck.

Kurt immediately tensed up. There was no way of knowing what was going on inside of Karofsky’s head. The air felt thick and Kurt was having a hard time getting breaths of air into his lungs.

The jock reached a hand up towards Kurt’s neck at a torturously slow speed and he shrunk back against the wall, unsure of what else to do.

He placed a hand on Kurt’s black velvet bowtie, wiggling it back and forth to straighten it out. Kurt could feel the fabric of the bowtie shifting and moving all around his neck like a noose being placed on its victim.

A small smirk grew onto Karofsky’s face as he stared straight into Kurt’s eyes with an unwavering gaze.

“Or I’ll kill you.”

Karofsky let his hand drift off of Kurt’s body as he turned and left the hallway.

Karofsky’s words were still ringing in Kurt’s ears. He wanted to run, or scream or cry, but no part of his body would move; he felt paralyzed. He couldn’t focus on any single thought in his head, and everything seemed fuzzy. There was an odd buzzing in his ears and he suddenly felt very cold.

Kurt wasn’t sure how long he had stood there, clinging onto whatever sanity he had left at that particular moment in time, hoping for this day to just be over.

The final school bell rang and Kurt’s eyes shot open, he was immediately aware of the hundreds of students now crowding the hall, and when he looked down at his clenched fists, he realized that he had been standing there hyperventilating the whole time.

Kurt began to slowly regain control of his body, and forced his legs to work, putting one foot in front of the other, trying to carry on. His mind was still a bit hazy but he knew he had to get home. Kurt placed all of his focus into that simple task; getting to his locker to put his things away so he could leave.