The three boys were sprawled out across his bedroom in various relaxed positions as they simply enjoyed the quiet afternoon. The window was open and Kurt could feel the gentle breeze tickling his cheek and alleviating some of the misery of the oppressive summer heat that had been plaguing them for the better part of June. Cheery sounds of birds chirping and children playing in the cul-de-sac out front flitted in and out of their hearing as they basked in the silence.

Blaine was laid out on top of Kurt's black duvet covered bed staring contentedly out the window at the cloudy blue sky with his arms folded across his chest and a contemplative expression on his face. Kurt wondered what he was thinking about. Wes sat on the opposite end of the bed, back against the wall with one knee tucked beneath his chin as he re-reads Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban for the hundredth time. It looked almost as though the two boys were a natural fixture of the room, and probably most people who came upon the scene would never guess that Blaine and Wes were home-grown Westerville suburbians and not really from the middle class home in Lima that housed Kurt and Burt Hummel. They seemed to have practically have taken up residence there whenever they weren't at summer camp or summer school.

Kurt thinks this is probably because his dad is easily the most fun and attentive of the three sets of parents. Don't get him wrong- he loves the Andersons and the Chiangs, but… there was just something about his dad that was special. Maybe he was a little bias. Blaine's Mom and Dad are always working or going to social events now that he's older, and even though Kurt thinks they're pretty cool and very nice, he knows Blaine wishes they didn't work as often. Wes' parents are a lot more down to earth, but they were constantly making Wes go to community gatherings, play tons of sports and babysit his little sister. Wes told him it was because his parents thought family and cultural heritage were the most important things in life. All Kurt knew was that he would never let Mrs. Chiang con him into helping babysit ever again. That little girl was a terror.

He smiles when his thoughts turn to his own Dad. It had been a hard couple of years since his mother died. Kurt had been angry all the time. He had purposefully done things to make his father angry, and Burt had just taken it all in stride and done the best he could to hold their family together. His Dad had let Wes and Blaine come over more and more in a desperate attempt to get Kurt to come to terms and deal with his anger. He found his father's acceptance and love for his best friends inspiring.

It had been his Mom's idea to have Kurt tested for the gifted program when he was just in Kindergarten, and when his scores had come in far higher than any child in his year, they had looked into sending him to a school that was more intellectually challenging and specialized to gifted students. That was how he'd met Blaine and Wes, and by the time they were in third grade they'd become inseparable.

Kurt looked up from his place on the carpet where he was laying on his stomach with his legs swinging lazily back and forth as he wrote in his journal. He glanced up at them every few minutes and chewed on his pen. He could feel his stomach churning painfully and tried to speak. Tucked within the pages beneath the one he was writing on Kurt had a letter that changed everything. It had come in the mail two days ago, and after his father had shown it to him Kurt had been distraught. He needed to tell Blaine an Wes, but he just hadn't figured out how to do it. They had been lounging for the better part of an hour and he had been silently trying to form the words to tell them.

I'm not going to Dalton.

I'm not going to Dalton with you in August.

You know how we were going to Dalton and we were going to rule the school and be best friends forever? Well, change of plans.

So far, he hadn't been able to make any of the words go past his lips.

"Something you need Kurt?" Wes' vaguely amused voice asked from behind his book.

Kurt realized he was still staring. Oops. He began to chew extra hard on the pen as he looked away.

"No. Nope, sorry. Just… spacing."

"You're going to destroy your teeth if you keep doing that. Not to mention my pen…which you can totally keep now," Blain added, twisting around so that he was laying on his side facing Kurt.

Kurt pulled the pen out of his mouth quickly. "Sorry."

Blaine rolled his eyes and smiled fondly at his friend. "It's okay. I keep extra pens around because I know that you have a tendency to destroy them when you're nervous."

Kurt blinked. He hadn't realized he did it that much. Did he really chew his pens when he was nervous? Hmm.

"So what's bugging you?" Blaine asked with a raised eyebrow.

Kurt's eyes snapped up to meet the warm hazel brown ones that were staring at him with concern and interest. Wes put his book down and leaned forward too.

"I…" he started weakly. He hated when they ganged up on him. He could never keep anything to himself when they looked at him like that.

He sighed and pulled himself up so he was sitting with his legs crossed.

"I have something to tell you, and you aren't going to like it very much."

They both exchanged a look and Kurt felt his eyes stinging slightly. He looked down at his journal where the letter was taunting him from between the pages and he blinked rapidly to keep his emotions under control.

"Kurt, what's up?" Blaine asked, brows furrowing.

"I can't go to Dalton," he finally managed to blurt out after a moment of awkward silence.

"What?" Wes asked in confusion.

Blaine tilted his head and a flash of confusion and concern crossed his soft features as he too sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, giving Kurt his full attention.

Kurt swallowed in attempt to get rid of the dryness that had suddenly made itself at home in his throat.

"I just…didn't get in," he said softly, head bending down to look at the edge of the envelope sticking out from between the pages in his lap.

"Is it because of how expensive it is?" Wes asked, still frowning.

Kurt set his elbows on his knees and miserably balanced his head in his palms.

"It's not just the money," he informed them. "You know I would have been going on a scholarship anyway. We got a letter from the school saying that because we don't live in the district that I had to be given second priority to all of the students who do live in the district, scholarship students included. Dad showed me the letter yesterday. There isn't an open spot for me."

There was a brief moment of silence where all of the boys digested this information.

"Well there must be something we can do!" Blaine said, his features growing angry. "I can talk to Dad and maybe he can talk to the headmaster- there's just no way you can't go to Dalton. It's what we've dreamed of since we were ten!"

Kurt shook his head sadly, "Dad already talked to the headmaster, showed him my test scores. He said he was really sorry, but there was nothing he could do. He did say he'd keep any on the list and call us if a spot ever became available."

Wes was twisting the paperback book in his hands tightly as though taking out his agitation on it would solve the issue.

He stood up and gently removed the book from his hands, "You would be really sad if you ripped it or something. You love that book."

He didn't meet his eyes.

"Kurt," Wes said, voice cracking.

He bit his lip and turned around, making a show of putting the book over on the desk so they wouldn't see him cry. He hated crying. He had been told by many others (never his dad, Blaine or Wes) that boys didn't cry. They hadn't needed to remind him; he was aware of the social stigma.

Of course his friends had never made him feel like he was weaker for crying. But still, Kurt couldn't help but notice that neither of them really ever cried. Sure there was a time or two when they were younger and they'd fallen and scraped their knees, but nothing like Kurt did. He was secretly ashamed of it.

He jumped slightly when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He glanced back and allowed a watery smile as he saw both boys standing behind him. He sniffled slightly and brought up a hand to wipe his eyes quickly.

"Okay, I think this moment calls for a hug," Blaine announced.

Kurt rolled his eyes. Blaine was a hugger. While Kurt was not overtly fond of hugging, he wasn't entirely opposed either. Wes was most definitely not a fan of hugs. But he made exceptions for people he really cared about. Which happened to include Kurt and Blaine.

He felt two pairs of arms encircle him and he smiled slightly.

After a few moments he felt Wes try and pull away, but with no luck. He too tried to wiggle, but Blaine held them in place and sighed contentedly.

"Alright Blaine…" Kurt said trying to move again. "Okay. Really. I appreciate the hug, but enough is enough."

Blaine reluctantly pulled away and grinned at him before skipping to the bed. Kurt couldn't help but notice that his shoulders were still slumped and the smile on his lips was tight.

He and Wes rolled their eyes.

"Movie?" he suggested.

They all agreed, and it was as the opening credits to Hercules began that he had to ask the question. Without looking away from the screen, he asked in a small voice, "This doesn't change anything right? You won't forget me?"

"Never," Blaine declared softly, also not looking.

"You're unforgettable, Kurt Hummel. Now shush. That hot lady on the vase is singing."