It was two days after Ms. Holliday's pep talk, and he wasn't honestly feeling that much better about things. School was still miserable, and no one took notice of the bullies and he was just really tired. Physically. Mentally. It was deeply rooted within his bones and he just wanted to curl up in his bed and not leave. It helped having Blaine and Wes around more, but he just felt like he couldn't share this with them. What would they think? Would they think he was weak? Dumb little Kurt Hummel can't even defend himself from a couple of bullies. Can't even stand up for himself.

He tried to push these thoughts away as he pulled into the parking lot of the Lima Bean for the second time that week and went inside to meet Wes. He relaxed when he saw his friend's grin and felt the tension in his stomach slowly uncoil a bit.

"Because we've always had a policy of total honesty, I have to be honest here Kurt," Wes said with a tiny teasing smile as they sat at the booth in the far corner.

Kurt rolled his eyes but gave the other boy a fond look.

"What's up?"

"I mean, we were best friends for, how many year? 8 or so? I feel… kind of awkward around you, and I don't know how to fix it."

Kurt, who had been about to drain the dregs of his coffee slowly pulled away from the cup and set it back down on the table between them. That hurt.

"You feel… awkward around me? Why? Is it…because I'm gay?"

Wes reached over and smacked him.

"Don't be a moron, Kurt. I knew you were gay before anyone else did. Why would it suddenly bother me now?"

"It bothers pretty much every other guy I've met," he muttered darkly.

Wes narrowed his eyes.

"Well it doesn't bother me. Kurt you're awesome. We both know that. This is about the fact that I just… don't feel like I know what's going on with you or that I know anything about you anymore."

"Wes, I don't know what you want from me. We haven't really seen each other in like 2 years. Of course things are going to be different. People change."

"Not you," Wes said quietly. "You've always been an open book to me. I always knew what you were thinking, when you were upset, when you needed to talk about something so that you could figure out how you really felt about it. I just…knew. And you did too, in your own way. I don't know what I'm trying to say here. When I look at you now I don't know who I'm talking to. It's not Kurt Hummel the high school freshman who cried for an hour the day before our first day because you were nervous and you had to pick out an outfit and you weren't going to get to see us."

"I kind of feel like maybe that's not such a bad thing. The not crying anymore. People aren't quite as awesome as you and Blaine. Or really anyone who went to our school. "

Wes nodded slightly.

"So you conformed to fit in better?"

Now Kurt really was offended.

"I didn't conform, Wes. I don't know where you get off saying that. I mean look at you. Neatly pressed uniform, 4.0 GPA, plans to apply to Yale and become a doctor? Which one of us conformed?"

The other boys' lips pressed into a thin line.

"You don't understand the pressure that my parents put on me. I'm only trying to make them happy."

"Would you really want to spend your life making your parents happy? What about you? I know you'd rather a publicist or a journalist or just a plain writer."

"It's not as simple as all that."

"Neither is going to public school."

"What does that even mean Kurt?"

"Listen Wes, I told you… I get bullied. A lot. You'd think that by the age of 16 kids would find something else to waste their time on, but no, not so much. To be able to survive McKinley, you have to be able to remember who you are, and remember that deep down you love yourself. Even if other people don't. Even if they spend every day trying to make the person you see in the mirror ugly and unworthy of love. Even if they call you names or…"

Kurt's face crumbled and he threw his speech into an immediate halt. He didn't want to share the worst of the bullying with his friend. He didn't want this friendship, that meant somuch to him, to be tainted by the knowledge of his abuse.

Wes was looking at him with something that might have been pity. He didn't want pity, but it was usually provided to him in spades. So he was surprised when the pity transformed into anger.

"What do you mean you a lot? Kurt… I know what you said before, but have you really told anyone? Your Dad, the principal? A teacher?"

A soft smile threatened to escape his tight frown. There he was. Wes. His Wes. Ever the defender of his friends.

"It's not as simple as all that."

Wes narrowed his eyes, obviously not appreciating his attempt at humor.

"Tell someone Kurt. Do not be afraid of those jerks. Just like Blaine said, someone has to teach them. Teach them now, before it's to late for them to learn tolerance and acceptance."

Ah. There was that tricky teaching business again.

"Nobody cares Wes. The teachers are stuck in their own little worlds of just trying to get through the day and not get abused by the kids themselves. The principal cares more about money and staying up to Academic Standard than making sure the kids are happy and healthy. My Dad… cares. He does. But I can't burden him with this. He's been through so much this year."

"I care."

"I know you do," he whispered.

"Transfer. Transfer to Dalton."

"I…" he fumbled. "I can't."

But why not? If there was a spot open, he could just reapply for his scholarship. His grades were good, his circumstances merited it… but, oh right. His Dad.

"Because of your Dad?"

Always so intuitive.

"Yeah. I mean, he has Carole now, but… he had a heart attack this year, Wes. I can't be gone now."

"Kurt, you don't have to board at Dalton."

"The money..."

"Kurt…" Wes said with a sigh. "I'm not telling you that you have to do it. You just don't seem happy and I don't like to see you upset. Just... think about it."

"Thanks Wes," he murmured softly.

"Anytime Kurt. Just do me a favor, don't keep it all inside? If you need to talk, come to us. I remember what you're like when you bottle things up. Bitch-y."

Laughter bubbled out of him in a surprised gasp. "Wes!"