Kurt didn't have to wait much longer before there was knock on the door to the trailer.

Kurt followed Figgins to the director's office. He wondered for a moment why it was so quiet, but then realized that the others must have returned from their trip to the movies and already been bedded down in their cabins for the night.

Kurt, still reeling from the revelation about Sebastian's age, was finding it hard to focus on the current conversation.

“Kurt Hummel! Pay attention!” Figgins tapped his fingers forcefully against the desk in time to his staccato words and Kurt straightened a bit in his seat, trying to focus his eyes on the camp director. “I have made this point quite clear. Sexual relations of any kind will not be tolerated at this camp!”

“Mr. Figgins,” Kurt interjected quickly, gripping the arm rests of the chair tightly for support. “I don't know what Glenn thinks he saw, but I can assure you – ”

“Silence!” Figgins bellowed. “Mr. Hummel, you already have one infraction on your record. I am not interested in hearing any more excuses from you. Especially considering the difference in age between you and Mr. Smythe. I really expected more from you in this situation, Mr. Hummel.”

Kurt blinked back the tears that were threatening to spill from his eyes and forced his voice into a calmer, lower pitch. “But I swear, I had no idea Sebastian was younger than me. Yes, I kissed him and that was stupid. But I'm not a repeat offender. I was accused falsely last time. Blaine and I just took a walk – and talked. Nothing else happened. I swear, if you give me another chance, I can turn this around – ”

“No, that's enough,” Figgins said in a low, warning tone. “You leave me no choice but to send you home.” Figgins sighed, rubbing his hands back and forth across his forehead. “You have no idea how lucky you are, young man. You should be grateful that I have a whole file from Mr. Smythe's social worker, so I was expecting the lies from him. That young man would throw you right beside a bus to save his own dried skin.”

Kurt just stared at Figgins in silent disbelief.

“Oh yes,” Figgins continued, meeting Kurt's eyes. “He claimed you lured him into your cabin under false pretenses. That you forced him to kiss you. Says he's not even gay.”

“But…but that's – ” Kurt spluttered.

“I know, I know it's a lie,” Figgins said. “But don't be too angry with him. He's just a scared kid. He really didn't want his parents to find out what had happened. You shouldn't take it personally.”

“If you know he's lying…” Kurt started, then trailed off. “I really want to stay here. I think I can contribute a lot to the program.”

“You've contributed quite enough, as far as I'm concerned,” Figgins said sarcastically. “Mr. Smythe may be lying about being forced – and that's why we're not getting the police involved in this – but I still have an eye witness who saw the two of you kissing and groping each other on a bed. And those shenanigans will not be tolerated at this camp.”

Kurt sat numbly as Mr. Figgins explained that they would call his father in the morning and that Kurt would pack his things and wait to be picked up. There would be no work for him in the morning.

Kurt was glad that the cabin was dark and Glenn was already sleeping when he crept through the door. Kurt lay on his bed, staring at the blackness of the dark room, until he fell into a restless sleep just before dawn.

Breakfast the next day felt like an extended walk of shame. It seemed that everyone already knew some version of the story before Kurt had even gotten through the cafeteria line. Mercedes and Rachel formed a protective bubble around him, walking on either side to escort him to their table amidst the stares, head-shakes of disgust, and catcalls. Blaine and Tina sat with them as well, but they were all nearly silent throughout breakfast. Mercedes squeezed his shoulder and Rachel gave him a large, dramatic hug goodbye. Tina waved sadly and Blaine shook his hand solemnly before they all headed out to get ready for work. Thankfully, Sebastian was nowhere to be seen.

Kurt waited until he knew the teams had left for work on the trails so he could avoid Glenn before he headed back to his cabin to pack.

It was already early afternoon by the time Kurt's father arrived. Burt clapped a hand on Kurt's shoulder and Kurt threw himself into his father's arms, clinging to him desperately in what was more of a death grip than a hug.

“Eh-hem.”

Kurt sprung away from his father and spun around. Mr. Figgins was standing there with Sebastian beside him. Sebastian crumpled in on himself, slouching to such a degree that he seemed shorter than Kurt. He kept his eyes glued to the ground.

“Mr. Hummel,” Figgins addressed Burt, extending a hand to him. As they shook hands, he continued, “I'm Camp Director Figgins. Thank you for coming on such short notice to pick up Kurt.”

“Of course,” Burt said gruffly.

“I am wondering, Mr. Hummel, if you might be able to do something else for me,” Figgins asked.

And that is how, fifteen minutes later, Kurt found himself sitting in the backseat of his father's extended cab truck, next to a sullen Sebastian. Kurt had tried to sit up front, but his dad had fixed him with a pointed stare and suggested that he keep his friend company.

“I believe it is only about two hours out of your way,” Figgins had said. “You see, it is imperative that Mr. Smythe here also leave the camp today, but his parents refuse to pick him up.”

“We can't drive him all the way to New York,” Kurt had protested.

Sebastian remained silent, digging a pattern in the dirt with the toe of his sneaker.

“He's not going to New York,” Figgins said. “He's going to his aunt's estate in Pennsylvania. It is not that far from Lima, Ohio. I printed out Google map directions for you.”

“Come on, Kurt,” Burt had said, leaning toward him to whisper in his ear. “You put the kid in this situation. It's the least we can do.”

Kurt had fumed silently, wanting to set the record straight but realizing he was unable to do so until he could be alone with his father once more.

So now he was forced to sit next to Sebastian. After another few minutes, Kurt could no longer handle the silence. He glanced nervously at his father, but Burt had the news channel blaring from the front speakers and was keeping his eyes on fixed on the road.

Kurt turned to Sebastian and spat out in a vicious whisper, “You told Figgins I forced you. What the hell? I could have been arrested, you asshole!”

“You don't understand,” Sebastian started.

“No, I don't,” Kurt said, higher pitched, loud squeaks punctuating his whispered words as he grew more agitated. “I never lied to you. You're the only one who lied. Why didn't you tell me you're only fourteen?”

“I'll be fifteen next month,” Sebastian whined sullenly. “Besides, age is just a number.” He actually winked as he said, ”I know I look a lot older.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. At camp, Kurt had of course, agreed with this. But now, seeing this petulant child crumpled in a defeated heap, the once debonair and sophisticated Sebastian Smythe was long gone. All Kurt could see was a spoiled little boy.

“I still can't believe that you lied to Figgins,” Kurt fumed almost to himself.

“You don't understand,” Sebastian said, covering his eyes with his hands. “I couldn't get kicked out. I've been kicked out of so many schools, so many programs. My parents are going to kill me.”

Kurt sighed and tilted his head back, looking up at the roof of the car for a moment. He wanted to be mature – to rise above. “Well, I'm sorry about that,” Kurt said, modulating his tone carefully to sound more understanding. “But it's not solely my fault that we're in this situation.”

“Yes, it is,” Sebastian growled. “If it wasn't for you being such a bitch to your roommate and going off in the woods with Blaine, neither one of us would have been kicked out.”

Screw maturity, Kurt decided. “Forget it,” he hissed. “I have no empathy for you. I don't know why I bothered trying.” He turned away from Sebastian and resolutely looked out the opposite window. They didn't speak for the rest of the journey.

xxxxxxxxx

Kurt spent a lot of time over the next two weeks standing in the back yard, gazing out over the lawn and into the trees lining the property. He took long walks to the woods at the edge of town and tried to come up with a plan to salvage his summer and have something of value to put on his application for NYADA.

The trouble was, Kurt was having a hard time coming up with anything useful through the hazy fog of depression cluttering his mind.

His dad tried to help, offering to keep him busy at the garage. On some days, Kurt took him up on it. But most of the time he preferred to walk in the woods. It was as if some part of him was trying to recapture that feeling of freedom he got from hiking in the backcountry.

A bright spot came with a letter in the mail addressed to him in careful, looping script. Kurt ripped the envelope nearly in two to get at the precious contents inside. He immediately flipped to the back of the page. When he saw the letter was from Blaine, his stomach swooped and he smiled.

He immediately bounded the steps two at a time to get to his room to devour the words on the page.

Dear Kurt,

I got your address from Rachel – I hope that's okay. My original plan was to ask you for all of your contact info on our last day at the camp, but then everything happened so suddenly. You were gone and I realized I had no way to reach out to you but by mail.

Mercedes has your address too, so I am sure you'll be hearing from her. But I'm certain you'll get my letter first. At least I hope so. I kind of have a bet with her about which one of us can finish a letter and drop it in the mail faster.

Camp just keeps getting more and more crazy. Everyone got angry when we were denied yet another perk we were promised – it was roller blading this time – and there was another sit in. But Santana tried to run it and she isn't anywhere near as diplomatic as you were. So she got kicked out. Then Brittany started sleeping around like crazy – I think it was her way of dealing with how depressed she was over having Santana gone. Anyway, she was pretty careless and got herself and Azimio kicked out, too. You'll probably be happy to know that Mercedes got Glenn kicked out for sexual harassment. I'll let her tell you the details, but I can tell you that she was fierce. It was pretty awesome to behold.

Something major went down on the next backcountry trip. I don't even know the details – everyone seems to have a different story. But there was at least one fight that broke out and sex of some sort in the group tent. So they came back early and a whole bunch of people got sent home. Needless to say, they cancelled the last backcountry trip, so I won't be going on mine. I'm pretty bummed about it. You made it sound so fantastic.

Those of us who are left all wonder if any of us will actually make it here for the last four weeks. Some bets have been placed about who will be the next person to crack, but I'm trying to stay out of it and just keep out of trouble. Some social experiment, huh? Somehow I don't think this is what Figgins was hoping would happen.

So, we're still without cell phones or any other modern means of communication here. But a letter from you would totally make my day (hint, hint).

Hope you're having a good time back home.

Yours truly,

Blaine

Kurt smiled and held the letter to his chest for a moment. Being without modern means of communication definitely sucked, but at the same time, he found the idea of writing actual, hand-written letters to be pretty darn romantic. He read the letter through several more times before rummaging through his desk drawers for some stationary and a pen.

He wrote a letter to Blaine first. It took a while because he wrote several drafts and tore them up before settling on a final version that he thought was a good blend between eager and friendly, aloof and mysterious, and hinting at the possibility of something more. Crafting that letter was pretty exhausting, but Kurt thought about his friends being stuck in that mind-twisting, physically demanding situation and decided he could force himself to write them upbeat letters and maybe ease some of the boredom for them in a few days when they received their mail. He wrote a letter to Mercedes and included a few magazine clippings he thought she might like.

He even wrote to Rachel. In that letter he said, “Blaine is telling me a lot of people are leaving or getting kicked out. I really hope you hang in there until the end. At least one of us should make it.” Kurt was surprised that he wrote that without any real bitterness. He hunted through his desk some more until he found the perfect thing to add to her letter. A sheet of gold star stickers that he had left over from a brief scrapbooking phase. He peeled one off, and added it next to her name at the top of the letter.

A few days later, his phone rang and Rachel's face appeared on the screen. That's not possible, he thinks. “Rachel,” he reprimands immediately upon accepting the call. “Are you crazy? They'll kick you out if they catch you using a cell phone. ”

“Too late for that,” Rachel said with practiced flippancy. “I was kicked out already. My dads are driving us home right now.”

“You got kicked out? For what?”

“Stuffing ballot boxes.”

“Stuffing…what?”

She went one to explain that Figgins decided it would encourage leadership and perhaps stem the flood of participants quitting or being kicked out if the group elected one of their own as a sort of class president. “I just really wanted to stand out,” Rachel said, her voice trembling with tears. “I thought it would help with my NYADA application to win, but I know I'm not very popular.”

“So you stuffed the ballots?” Kurt said incredulously.

Rachel sniffed. “Uh-huh. But I didn't do a very good job. Apparently there were more votes than kids at the camp. They thought it was Puck – you know he was sent to the camp to get out of juvie. But I couldn't let him take the fall for me. I caved under interrogation,” she said dramatically, before collapsing into sobs.

“Oh sweetie,” Kurt said. “I'm so sorry. But don't worry. You and I can figure all of this out together.” He mustered up more conviction than he actually felt and said, “We'll come up with some way to finish out our summer that will dazzle those NYADA admissions officers. I promise.”

Rachel came home and spent more of her days with Kurt than without. But even together they couldn't lift each other out of their mutual depression. So Kurt took Rachel along for his walks in the woods. He said he thinks they're going through some sort of nature withdrawal being back in Lima.

Rachel was happy to hear that Kurt is still in touch with both Blaine and Mercedes. Together they plan out amazing dates Kurt can take Blaine on when he gets back to Ohio. Rachel starts writing letters to Blaine and Mercedes, too. They wonder out loud whether Blaine and Mercedes will be the only two left at the end of the camp.

“I'm sure it's saving the Teen Environmental League a lot of money,” Rachel mused on one of their long walks through the woods.

“I never thought of that,” Kurt said. “Maybe all of that social experimenting Figgins tried really was supposed to get us all to drop out of the program like flies so they could save some money.”

“Truthfully, though,” Rachel said, “I'm glad they gave us our pro-rated pay for the weeks we worked. You'd think they could have had some loop hole built in for people who get kicked out.”

“Yeah,” Kurt agreed. “Getting paid for the work was nice. Although neither one of us was ever really in it for the money. I guess a larger bank balance does ease the sting to the ego at least a little bit.”

“A few new pieces to add to the wardrobe might ease that sting even more,” Rachel teased. “Hey, I didn't know there was a building on this property,” she said, stopping suddenly and jabbing Kurt with a sharp finger as she pointed dramatically at the wood and stone building ahead of them on the path.

“Oh right,” Kurt said, stepping back out of the reach of Rachel's finger. “It must be the nature center. I knew the paths we were walking on were somewhere at the back of a nature center property, but I've never actually been to the building.”

“Let's go in,” Rachel said excitedly, rushing forward and tugging a more reluctant Kurt behind her with a solid grip on his wrist.

The nature center was fairly rustic. There was the obligatory front desk and sign in sheet for visitors, a room with exhibits of taxidermy animals posed in dioramas depicting their natural habitats, and thin slices of various tree trunks with labels naming each type of tree: green ash, silver maple, pin oak.

There was a camp in progress for elementary school kids. The kids were chattering excitedly, sitting cross-legged on the floor of one of the classrooms off the main hallway, waiting excitedly for a puppet show to start.

Rachel peered at the kids with a smile. Kurt moved further down the hallway and soon became engrossed in an exhibit about mills. Apparently, there was once a mill along one of the streams on the property. The exhibit discussed it's history and included a mechanical display that demonstrated how the grain was sorted and ground by a series of stones set into motion by running water.

“Did you see this?” Kurt started to say, turning and expecting to see Rachel by his side. Instead, she was deep in conversation with an elderly gentleman who had appeared behind the previously empty front desk at some point since Kurt and Rachel had entered the building and scrawled their names into the guest book.

As Kurt walked toward them, he could see the man behind the desk was listening politely and he could hear Rachel gushing with excitement. “I write original pop songs and my friend Kurt wrote a musical last summer. We're both amazing singers and actors, too.”

Kurt groaned inwardly and directed a sympathetic shrug and an exaggerated wince to the man from behind Rachel's back. The man glanced at him with a puzzled expression and Rachel whipped around.

“There you are, Kurt. This is so exciting. You're never going to believe it,” she practically squealed.

“What is it?” Kurt said slowly and carefully.

“This nature center!” Rachel jumped up and down. “They have a final summer camp session starting next week and they need volunteers.”

“Uh-huh,” Kurt said, still unsure what this had to do with them.

“You and I are going to volunteer. We can teach the kids about walking in the woods and respecting nature and helping the environment. And this lovely gentleman here has told me that we can be as creative as we want. We can have the kids write and perform a musical about nature! They can perform it on the last day of camp!” Turning to the man behind the desk, Rachel added, “Kurt and I can film it and put it up on YouTube or Facebook for the nature center – and then all the parents can see it, too.” Turning back to Kurt, Rachel whispered, “So can the NYADA admissions officers – and Madame Tibideaux.”

At last, Kurt caught on to Rachel's idea. And he had to admit, it was a pretty good one. They could use their talents at singing, dancing, acting, and song-writing, along with everything they had learned as part of their aborted summer at the Teen Environmental League, to do something that would both impress Carmen Tibideaux with their musical talent and tap into her love of outdoor conservation. “Rachel,” Kurt exclaimed while pulling her toward him in a tight hug, “you're brilliant!”

Just four letters and three weeks later, Kurt beamed when his phone lit up with Blaine's name. Just got back home. Can you talk?

Kurt cleared his throat, sprinted downstairs and downed a cup of water, and stopped to appraise his appearance in the mirror before realizing that this was a phone call and not a meeting. He pulled up Blaine's phone number, his finger hovering over the green button. Closing his eyes against the flutters in his stomach, he took a deep breath and hit call.

The phone rang three heart-stopping times before Blaine's voice said, “Hello? Kurt, is that you?”

“I almost forgot what your voice sounded like,” Kurt blurted out, then clapped a hand over his mouth in embarrassment.

“It's good to talk with you, too,” Blaine said sincerely.

After getting an update on the last week of camp, which Blaine survived admirably in spite of even more indignities heaped upon the last remaining stragglers by Figgins and the crew leaders, Kurt stammered a bit, trying to drum up the courage to broach a topic he could never manage to address in his letters.

“Blaine, I um, need to apologize to you,” he started.

Blaine immediately asked, “What for?”

“Sebastian,” Kurt said emphatically, as if unable to believe that Blaine hadn't come to the same conclusion. “I never should have trusted him. I – he – I guess I'm just trying to say that I shouldn't have chosen him. It should have been you.”

“Oh God, no, Kurt,” Blaine said, the words tripping over each other in his rush to get them out. “Don't apologize. I've had a lot of time to think about it over the last month and I realize that I never gave you any reason to think I could be anything but a friend. And not that you had to choose either of us, but if it had been me I'm sure I would have done the same.”

“But – ”

“No, really. There's nothing to apologize for.” After a pause, Blaine added teasingly, “Well, except maybe for making out with him in your cabin. I mean, Glenn walking in on you was pretty inevitable.”

Blaine started giggling and although Kurt's first reaction was indignation, the laughter was infectious and soon he was giggling, too. Through his gasps of laughter, he managed, “You should have seen the look on his face.”

“That must have been priceless,” Blaine agreed through gasps of laughter.

After a few minutes of laughing, gasping for breath, and holding their sides, they both grew a quiet.

“Seriously, though,” Blaine said at last. “There's no need to apologize. The only thing I'm upset about is that you got kicked out. Both because I know you needed this for your college application and also, a little selfishly, because I wanted you there to keep me company.”

“It must have sucked for you to be there through all of that upheaval,” Kurt said sympathetically.

“Yeah,” Blaine agreed. “The only thing that kept me going was singing duets with Mercedes. Well and trios before that with Tina, too. Until she and Mike got kicked out.” He sighed. “But anyway, like I said, I'm sorry the summer didn't work out for you the way you had hoped.”

“Thanks,” Kurt said. “But actually, things are going so great with the musical summer camp that Rachel and I are running for the Lima Heights Nature Center. In fact, the executive director has even observed us running the program a few times. She said she was so impressed with our creativity and drive that she offered to write us both recommendation letters. Someone I doubt Figgins would have done that, even if I had managed to stay out of trouble.”

Kurt immediately felt badly for pointing this out to Blaine – who had stayed out of trouble for the most part. “Oh Blaine, I'm sorry – ”

“Yeah,” Blaine said. “Figgins didn't offer a letter to me. But it doesn't really matter. I have a whole other summer to go before I have to start writing any college applications. I'll just have to find something spectacular to do next year.”

“I'll help you,” Kurt offered. “I'll get Rachel to help, too. For all her annoying tendencies, she does come up with some pretty creative ideas from time to time.”

“Thanks, Kurt,” Blaine said. “But really, I'm not even worrying about college yet.”

“Good,” Kurt said with finality. “Enjoy your carefree days while you still can.”

“It's really good to talk with you, Kurt,” Blaine said. “I should probably go. My mom just got home and I think she's going to want to talk with me, since it's the first time I've seen her since the beginning of the summer.”

“Of course,” Kurt said. “But can I ask you something really quickly before you go?”

“You just did,” Blaine quipped. “Sorry – I actually hate it when people say that to me, so I don't know why I just said that. What do you want to ask?”

In one quavering breath, Kurt asked, “Will you go out with me? On a date?”

Kurt could hear the smile in Blaine's voice when he answered, “Of course. I would love that, Kurt.”

“Excellent,” Kurt said with a relieved sigh. “You go have your reunion with your mom and we can figure out the details by text.”

“Sounds good,” Blaine said. “Good bye.”

“Bye,” said Kurt. He couldn't stop himself from jumping up and down with a small squeal.

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

For their first date, they went to an upscale steak house followed by a movie, complete with popcorn and sodas. Kurt had asked Blaine what he wanted to do and Blaine wanted to re-experience all of the luxuries of a leisure filled summer at home.

But for their second date, Kurt unveiled a plan he had been thinking about for a long time, long before Blaine had even returned from the Teen Environmental League job.

He told Blaine to block out the whole day and to wear comfortable clothes and good walking shoes. Kurt packed a lightweight picnic lunch and plenty of bottles of water, then drove out to Blaine's house to pick him up.

It took nearly two hours to drive to the state park and find the parking lot for the trail head at the base of the mountain. But it was well worth it. It was a sunny but dry eighty-two degrees and they hadn't seen another person for miles.

As they hike to the top of the mountain, Kurt told Blaine that he wanted to give him a small taste of the experience Kurt had had on the backcountry trip. “I researched local hikes extensively, and I'm pretty sure this one will have all the perks of the Blue Ridge Mountains without any of the downsides of being nearly imprisoned by a thankless summer job.”

“Does this mean we're going to strip naked and pour water over our heads when we get to the top?” Blaine asked, the corners of his eyes wrinkling in merriment.

Kurt gave an exaggerated gasp of shock and hit Blaine's arm lightly in reproach. “Of course not,” he said in a mock scandalized tone. “The water I brought is to be used strictly for drinking. Hydration is very important.” But after a moment he added in a conspiratorial near-whisper, “We won't need it, anyway. There's supposed to be an amazing waterfall that we can get up close and personal with.”

“So we're going to get naked and run under a waterfall?” Blaine asked hopefully.

“You wish,” Kurt said with a smile. “Come here,” he said, gesturing to a nearby rock outcropping. “Let's take a break.”

They stood on the rock, leaning back against the side of the mountain. A breeze ruffled their hair and they looked down at the valley below.

“Thanks for bringing me here,” Blaine said in a hushed tone. “This is incredible.”

“You're incredible,” Kurt replied.

They smiled at each other for a few moments in silence. Then Kurt reached out for Blaine's hand, laced their fingers together, and pulled him in for a kiss.