So when I was finally told that I could go home, it was nearly nine and I knew that my cousin would long be in bed, and since I hadn’t eaten since noon, I decided that I should grab something before going home.

In my small town there were few places to eat and fewer places to eat after eight, but I decided to stop at the one small restaurant that I knew would be open still. I rarely ate there, since my father had preferred the burger joint a bit farther out of town when we had splurged on eating out, but I had walked by it enough times to know that I would be able to get something to eat.

And since it’s late, I wont have to deal with listening to people’s condolences and well wishes on my future, I thought, almost bitterly. I was alone now, and it was easiest to fake happiness when I didn’t have people fretting over me.

I walked into the small restaurant and saw that it was nearly empty except for a man siting at the bar drinking a cup of coffee and eating a slice of pie and a couple in their twenties sharing an ice cream sundae.

I slid into a booth facing away from the counter and was surprised when a boy younger than myself walked over and stood in front of the table, pulling a notebook out of his apron, flipping the first page over and sliding a pen out of behind his ear. He quickly wiped the gleam of sweat off of his face and finally made eye contact with me. He seemed startled and didn’t immediately say anything, but couldn’t seem to stop obviously staring at the me.

I smiled politely and coughed quietly, but couldn’t help stare a bit in return and admire the boy’s strong facial features, with his defined jaw line and piercing eyes, that were an indescribable color and were burning with something that inexplicably screamed hope.

When the waiter still didn’t say anything, I pulled my eyes back to the menu.

“Um, hi. Can I ask you a question? I’m new here.”

Blaine looked flustered and stuck out his hand, and although it looked like he immediately regretted the action, I quickly grabbed hold of it.

“My name’s Blaine.”

“Kurt,” I said, still smiling, shaking his hand a few more times before releasing it. “So, what exactly is good here? Something quick and easy, I know that you guys are closing soon.”

Blaine seemed to have shaken himself out of whatever he had fallen into and he rattled off a few suggestions, but I was having a hard time listening to anything that he was saying. Blaine paused to take a breath and I pulled my eyes away from the other boy’s for long enough to agree to take whatever Blaine had just suggested, although I really had no idea what it was.

Blaine thanked me and went to walk away, but first gave a weird sort of bow and then shimmed away, looking throughly embarrassed, his cheeks flushed.

It was strange to see someone act this way toward me. The only think that I could compare it to was the look and mannerisms that one of the lovesick maidens would shoot at the hero during those flicks that I used to sometimes see with his dad, right when they realized that they’d found the person that was going to sweep them off their feet.

But that was crazy. I must be more tired than I thought, I thought to myself.

Once Blaine had walked away I regretted choosing a seat that faced away from the counter. But even though I couldn’t see, I couldn’t help but hear him singing along with the radio under his breath.

By the time he returned with my food, the other customers had left and although I hadn’t even begun eating, the owner walked around the corner and had a loud whispering conversation with Blaine that made it evident that he wanted to go home.

“Then go!” Blaine said loudly, forgetting to at least try to whisper. “I can close up here. I’ve done it a hundred times. I don’t know why tonight would be any different.”

The man said something quietly to Blaine who promptly shouted, “I don’t know what you’re talking about! I don’t look any different than normal! Just go home!”

He seemed to have won, because a few moments later I heard the back door slam and Blaine continue his singing. He walked back over to check on me and was blatantly avoided meeting my eye line.

“How is everything?” He said quietly.

“Oh, it’s great, thank you. I’m sorry if I got you in trouble there. I’m almost done here and then you can go home, too. I know that you guys are actually closed already.”

The blush rose in his cheeks and he continued to avoid my eyes. “No, no, it’s fine. It’s just my uncle - he’s a bit protective over me for some silly reason. I don’t understand why, though. I mean, I’m nearly seventeen years old,” he said proudly, rambling, “and I don’t need someone to walk me home. And we don’t need to rush out paying customers because all of a sudden he seems to think that I was...”

He realized that he was saying too much and stopped abruptly.

“You’re sixteen? Have seen you around school?”

He looked relieved that I wasn’t dwelling on the second half of his rant. “Oh, no. I’m home schooled. I used to go to private boy’s school before we moved to Ohio a few years ago, and ever since I’ve just had private tutors since there isn’t a private school close enough for me not to board.”

I couldn’t help but raise my eyebrows.

“Not that I would mind going to public school! Actually, I’d prefer it. But my parents, they insist. And that’s not the only thing that they insist on that I would rather not do. But, until I’m eighteen, at least, there’s really nothing that I can do about besides work hard so that I can get out of here.“

For the umpteenth time that evening, he seemed to think that he had said to much, but I didn’t think so. This boy was so honest, so excited about the future even if he was currently unhappy with his situation. We had barely known each other, but I felt myself being drawn in to every word that he was saying, hoping that he would continue, hoping that some of the excitement and gestures that he used while talking were contagious and that I was going to some how pick some of it up.
He had obviously forgotten that he was supposed to be closing up shop because he sat down across the table from me and gently wiped off the smooth surface, although it was already clean.

“I just can’t stand it here. I can’t stand being told what to do. I cannot wait to be able to make decisions for myself.”

I looked at him curiously, trying to put my finger on what was making me so interested in his story. He looked up at me, as if he had been able to tell that I was looking at him - and his eyes - his beautiful eyes - showed so much frustration and sadness and determination that I couldn’t help myself from speaking.

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Working, but not until afternoon,” he seemed surprised but interested. “Why?”

“I’m feeling a little lonely.”

I was surprised at my own bluntness, but he took it in stride. “Let’s meet at the pier. 10 o’clock?”

He smiled and as I went to set my soiled napkin down on my empty plate he leaned over to pick it up and our hands brushed slightly and I felt a shiver in my stomach that I had never previously felt before. He looked at where our hands had met and almost seemed like he had felt a similar reaction, but before he could say anything I stood up and walked briskly out the door.

It wasn’t until I got until the corner of the road, where I would have to turn to return to my cousin’s, that I looked back. The restaurant was barely visible, but in the front window, Blaine stood clearly, still staring at his hand.

----

“You’re leaving? In less than a week?”

It was one of the warmest days of the summer so far and we had both abandoned our shoes and rolled up our pants and were sitting at the end of the pier, our feet dangling in the cool water. We had been talking for a couple of hours already, and I felt more comfortable talking with him than I did with anyone else I knew. I told him my ideas and dreams and secrets and he in turn shared some things with me. I had a feeling that he was being a bit more reserved that I was, but I eagerly absorbed every tidbit of information that he wanted to let me in on.

“Yeah,” he said, quietly. “My dad - he uh - died a few weeks back, and bagging groceries is not going to be a suitable career choice. I would never be able to make a living off it. And it’s not like we had a house that I can live it. We rented from the Fabrays and it’s much too expensive and big for just me.”

I watched him quietly, eager for him to continue.

“I’m all alone here. I didn’t know what else to do. They pay well and I’m in good shape and they’re always looking for people, so I just figured, why not, you know?”

I nearly told him that he wasn’t alone - that he had me. But since we hadn’t yet known each other for twenty four hours and I was having a hard enough time keeping my mouth shut, I decided against it. Although I already felt it. Strongly.

I don’t know exactly how to describe what was making me drawn to him so quickly. For one, I had never felt the need to describe a boy as beautiful before, but staring at Kurt’s profile as he pondered his future, there was no doubting that that’s exactly what he was.

His eyes were beautiful, but they looked scared, like he wanted to be happy but there was a weight pulling him down or standing in his way and was preventing him. They looked like they held a million secrets that were piled so high that they were soon going to start leaking out, and Kurt was trying to escape before he could let them.

“Where do you want to go if you don’t want to be here so badly?” He said after a spot of silence.

“Uh, to New York, actually.” It slipped off my tongue so easily. My biggest secret and I was confessing it to someone who was nearly a complete stranger.

“New York? What are you going to do there?”

“Sing, hopefully.” I continued, not able to believe my own willingness to spill all of my secrets.

“I heard you a bit last night, but it was too quiet for me to be able to hear you properly.” Kurt said, pulling his legs out of the water and turning to face me completely, sitting Indian style.
“Sing something for me.”

“Right now? I couldn’t. There’s no music,” I said hurriedly, mirroring him by pulling my legs out of the water and turning to face him properly.

“Who cares. No one is going to hear it but me. And if you’re going to cross the country to try to make yourself a real singer, singing here in the middle of no where, to someone who is practically no one, shouldn’t be a problem at all.”

“You’re not no one,” I said quietly. “You’ve got to stop saying stuff like that.”

He laughed and his whole eyes lit up. “Alright. Whatever you say. Now sing for me.”

I was breathing heavily, blushing under the stare of his waiting eyes, and was having a hard time coming up with a song. But his gaze was unrelenting. So, with those eyes pouring into mine, I inhaled sharply and sang the first thing that came to mind.

“Wise men say only fools rush in,
But I can’t help falling in love with you.
Shall I say? Would it be a sin?
If I can’t help falling in love with you.

Like a river flows surely to the sea, darling so it does,
Some things are meant to be.
Take my hand, take my whole life, too.
For, I can’t help falling in love with you.”

My voice cracked slightly on the last line and I went to take a breath before returning to the chorus, but before I could start again he grabbed almost desperately onto my face and pressed his lips against mine. I was momentarily too shocked to respond, but once I realized that he was still eagerly pressing his lips against mine and sliding his tongue along my bottom lip, silently begging entrance, I threw caution to the wind and opened my mouth slightly, returning the kiss with as much passion as he was showing, leaning into him and pushing my hand through his hair.

My eagerness seemed to have startled him, and although we continued the kiss passionately for a few seconds, he eventually pulled himself away and put his hands up in the air in front.

“We can’t do this.”

I was startled. “Why not?” I asked quietly.

“I leave soon. You’re too young. We just can’t do it.” He shook his head and avoided my eye contact.

I put my hand to his cheek and made him look at me again. “Listen. I have never felt this way about another person in my life. So easily connected, so ready to share ideas and secrets and dreams. You don’t have to leave.”

“Of course I have to leave. I’ve already signed the contract. On Sunday morning I’m taking the nine o’clock bus. There’s nothing I can do.”

“You could just stay here!” I shouted desperately, taking my hand off of his face but grabbing his hand instead. “You can just work for a year, and then we can go to New York together. We can leave his place. Escape. But still have each other.”

He was quiet as he seemed to consider what I had suggested.

“This is crazy,” he whispered. “I hardly know anything about you.”

“Well I know plenty about you. I know that you’ve got beautiful eyes and soft lips and a lot of hurt inside of you. I know that you feel lonely and that you don’t want to be alone but for some reason you feel that you deserve it. I know that you’re not ashamed of being different than other boys our age, but that you’re scared of being insulted and ridiculed, so you bottle it up with the rest of your emotions until you can’t keep it inside anymore and it explodes out.

I know that you dance when you’re scared or lonely or happy and that you like music almost as much as I do. I know that you don’t want to go overseas and fight, you just signed up because you didn’t know what else you were supposed to do. But I’m telling you - there are other options.”

“Maybe two weeks ago I had a choice. But there’s no way that I can get out of it now.”

He stood up, looking disgusted with himself and started walking backwards.

“I just - can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Wait!” I shouted as he turned around and started to run down the pier. “Come back, Kurt! Let’s just talk about it a little more! We can figure something out!”

He turned around and in one brief glance I saw a series of emotions run through his eyes - hurt, embarrassment, regret and lastly, something that he looked like longing.

“Kurt!” I said, jumping up and running after him. But by the time I reached the end of the pier he was gone and I had no idea which direction he had come from.

I sat down on the grass by the edge of the water and dropped my face into my hands, tears falling freely. I ran my fingers lightly over my lips and cried harder at the thought that I wouldn’t experience the feeling of his lips pressed against mine ever again.

I had no idea why he had come into my life so quickly, but I was determined that I would see him again before he left and try to convince him that he could stay. I had to at least try.

----

What the hell was that? I thought to myself, walking quickly back towards the house.

Based on the conversation that we had had the night before and earlier that morning, I knew that I had made some sort of connection with Blaine. And I tried to push the feelings away. I knew that it was unrealistic to think that I could have any sort of relationship with him. I was leaving in less than a week and a relationship between two men was extremely looked down upon, especially in our small conservative town.

But then he sang me that song and stared at me with those expressive eyes that seemed to plead that I open up to him. And I couldn’t hold in the feelings anymore and I was kissing him and he was kissing me back.

And those brief moments were incredible. I had never felt more alive than I had while he was pressing his lips against mine and running his fingers through my hair.

But I couldn’t do it. And I had to get out of there before I made a mistake or got to invested to be able to stop.

So I ran.

I spent the next few days camped out in my room during any of the spare hours that I wasn’t at work and I avoided walking by the restaurant all together. But although I had been able to physically keep myself away from him I couldn’t help thinking about him almost constantly.

After that brief moment of connection I felt even more lonely. Even more hopeless.

I went back in forth for days and then for many hours that I spent laying awake the night before I was supposed to leave. But at last I made up my mind.

On the way to the bus stop I stopped by the restaurant, hoping that he was working.

I opened the door, pulling my duffle bag onto my shoulder and running my hands over my chest and thighs to try and straighten out the wrinkles in my uniform that I had accumulated during the short walk. The bell signaling a new customer rang as soon as I pressed open the door and he turned and immediately caught my eye.

He walked over to me as quickly as he could without looking too suspicious.

“Kurt, what are you -” he began.

“No, Blaine, just listen. I have to go, my bus is leaving in ten minutes.”

He was shocked, obviously hoping that my reappearance meant that we had more time together.

“I can’t promise anything,” I said quietly, reaching in my pocket to pull out a small folded piece of paper. “But, will you write me?”

He silently took the slip of paper from my hands and looked at it before looking up right into my eyes. I nearly had to take a step backwards when I saw their intensity.

“Of course I will.”

I smiled to him softly and turned to walk out the restaurant.