He began to study the French language a little each day to wile away the hours and the boredom. Blaine had told him that he wouldn't get to see much of Paris, but Kurt couldn't shake the thought that Blaine would meet someone without a criminal record at language school, fall under his charm and then he and said boy would run off to the south of France together, possibly Nice. The thought had kept his sleep at bay for one night, before he reminded himself of Blaine's promise and that he really needed to rest; his parole meeting with the school board happened to be the following day.

…

'Kurt Hummel, as you know, I am Superintendent Figgins, principal of William McKinley Correctional School for Boys and Girls, and also chairman of the school board. We are meeting with you this afternoon, to see if it is suitable for you to be integrated back into society. Do you understand what we are trying to achieve here?'

'Yes, sir.'

Kurt found himself seated at a table opposite three men at midday. The parole hearing room was bare save for the furniture in which they were using.

'Okay.' Kurt watched as Figgins accepted a document passed to him by one of the men, and lowered his glasses to read from it.

'First sent to McKinley in late November last year, sentenced to eight months and served almost seven months. No incidents apart from the one that delayed this hearing for two weeks. Trespassed on private property with other students however no act of vandalism was committed.' He looked up from the paper and observed Kurt through his glasses.

'You have been doing very well, getting top grades in all your classes. Care to tell us why you chose to do this?'

'Well, I – '

'It was established that Mr Hummel was the only one of the group, which included Noah Puckerman, that confessed to the incident,' spoke one of the men, cutting Kurt off.

'Noah Puckerman – say no more,' Figgins replied, raising his hand. He picked up another paper.

'I can see here that Officer Sue Sylvester has put in a good recommendation. I know that she speaks very highly of you. She says you have not been involved in any acts of a violent nature since your crime, correct?'

'Yes, sir.' Kurt hesitated for a moment. 'Sir, if I may?'

He felt the eyes of all three men staring at him.

'Yes?' Figgins asked.

Kurt took a deep breath. 'I would just like to say…that…I've been attempting to put things right these past few weeks. With the exception of leaving McKinley without an officer's permission, I have chosen to remain out of trouble by pursuing language studies. So eventually, when I am released, I will be able to return to a mainstream school in time for senior year and then, possibly gain entrance to college. I have learned from my past mistakes, and I assure you what happened in the past will never happen again. If you will let me…I would like to take that chance to prove to myself that I can do better, and that I can succeed.'

He watched as the three men leaned in closer to one another, talking in low whispers. After a few minutes of discussion and more exchanging of papers between them, Figgins clasped his hands firmly on the table and looked over to Kurt.

'Kurt Hummel, after careful consideration, we, the school board, have decided to grant you parole effective this Friday, providing that you complete a minimum of one hundred and twenty hours of community service during this time. Congratulations, and may you prosper in your future endeavors.'

…

Friday happened to fall on the week that Kurt would have been granted day release from McKinley. But this time, he wasn't coming back.

Officer Sylvester had ensured that he had cleared his cell of his personal belongings, including his watch and music book which he stored safely in his satchel. She escorted him to the reception area where she left him with a 'Good luck, kiddo' and a pat on the shoulder before returning to guard the student common room.

His father was waiting for him in the foyer.

'All set?' He picked up a plastic bag containing Kurt's clothing by the counter.

Kurt nodded, and they began to make their way outside to the front of the school in silence. They reached the green truck parked outside the front gate.

'Put your things back here,' Burt said, opening the door to the back seat. Kurt placed his satchel down while his father placed the bag beside it. He had barely let his father shut the door before Kurt had thrown his arms around him in a generous hug. Burt gave a surprised chuckle before he placed his hands around his son, holding him close. After what seemed like a long time, Burt let go, observing Kurt at arm's length.

'Let's go home,' Burt said, his voice soothing. Kurt sniffed and rubbed his eyes with his hand.

…

It had been the start of another busy day of gardening. Kurt paused with his shovel to wipe the sweat off his brow, trying to avoid the glare of the mid-morning sun which burned through the clouds overhead.

He had decided to complete his community service all at once, which equated to approximately seven hours a day, six days a week over a period of three weeks. His parole officer had suggested that he complete it where he felt he owed something to, and Kurt knew of the perfect location. Luckily, the place needed an extra hand to assist with gardening, and Kurt, despite knowing nothing about removing weeds or mowing lawns, was only too willing to learn.

Secretly, he counted himself the best dressed out of all the gardeners that worked there. He had turned up on his first day in grey overalls and a white buttoned-up t-shirt, and he hadn't deviated much from the same outfit. His supervisor, Tony, had shown him the proper way to care for seedlings and how to shape the hedges to his liking. Over the past week, he had assisted with laying down the pavement and bricks for a new passageway. It was hard work, but Tony was a kind man, and a bit of a character. Kurt sat with him on the bonnet of his truck during lunch breaks, eating sandwiches while Tony told him stories about work and his time in prison for armed robbery.

Finn had been granted parole the week before Kurt's release, and Burt had agreed to let him work alongside him at the workshop. He had enrolled in community college to study car mechanics in the fall, and had planned to join the local football team next season. Finn was able to alternate between visiting Rachel and Puck at McKinley, as they were only granted visits once every two weeks. Kurt noticed the last time he had returned from visiting Rachel that he had been left with scratches all over his face. Finn didn't seem to mind; he was grinning as he told Kurt how many fights Rachel had been involved in at the school.

He and Carole had also been spending more time at the Hummel's residence. Kurt had picked up baking tips that he couldn't possibly have learned from the cookbooks he read and they often cooked dinner together in the evenings. His father had been meaning to propose to her and Kurt was looking forward to planning the wedding, but was also looking forward to moving house, which meant that he would soon be receiving a brand new room.

During his afternoon breaks, Kurt would be allowed to roam the campus. The buildings were locked, but that didn't stop him from looking through the windows at the empty rooms, the silent commons and the expansive library full of every book on every academic subject imaginable. He couldn't stray far, as it would take him too long to walk back and he only had fifteen minutes, during which time the other gardeners would take a smoking break and discuss their plans for the weekend.

One morning, he had come to the aid of a smartly-dressed man in a dark suit, who had dropped his open briefcase near the front entrance of the school where Kurt was working nearby. He managed to salvage the flyaway papers before they were taken away by the wind. He soon discovered that the man was head of campus, and he began to greet him whenever he saw him on the grounds. They had a pleasant exchange one afternoon during which the man had asked Kurt his age ('almost eighteen') and his background, including his time prior to being at McKinley. He had promised Kurt that he would invite him and his father to a meeting in his office within the next week.

Kurt dug his shovel into the dirt, leaning his arms on it to briefly rest. He sighed as he tried to imagine what Blaine would be doing on the other side of the Atlantic. He would be sleeping, but in Kurt's mind he was sharing a baguette with his classmates by the Eiffel Tower while they conversed in textbook French.

He only wished the summer would end sooner so that he could see Blaine again.