Kurt stared up at the ceiling. Took a deep breath. Blinked hard a couple of times. Another deep breath.

  “Take as long as you need,” said Mrs. Jacobs from her arm chair. Kurt felt a wave of frustration starting to form inside him once again. Would she shut up? Of course he could take as long as he needed. This was his appointment. That wasn’t the problem here. The problem was that he didn’t know –had no idea–  how to find the right words. Also he was going to say these things to Mrs. Jacobs, which totally sucked. She sucked. But he very much needed her help, he assumed, and did his best reminding himself of that every time he felt like yelling at her, stop talking, or just leave. 

  “I’m still not better.” he said finally, eyes still on the ceiling.

  “Explain,”

  Kurt groaned softly. 

  I’m trying. He muttered in his mind. Words totally sucked. Everything sucked.

  “Why am I still not better?”

  “Better how?”

  He threw his arms in the air in frustration. “In any way.” he exclaimed. “I’m still not happy, still depressed as fuck, still want to kill myself almost every day. I’m still not better.” 

  “Well, change doesn’t always happen quickly.”

  “Five months isn’t quickly.”

  “You’ve been through a lot.”

  “Yes. I’m aware. I was there.”

  Mrs. Jacobs stopped trying.

  “I’ve got him now, you know,” Kurt said after a while, starting to make his thoughts into words almost in the middle of a sentence.

  “Got who?”

  “Who else?” Kurt mumbled. “Blaine, of course. I’ve got him, he’s there, we can talk, he understands to a pretty decent level, we help each other out and he can make me happy, so happy it’s weird. And to some part, he is the reason I’m still alive. So why aren’t I better?”

  Mrs. Jacobs didn’t smile. She knew her patient’s relationship with this Blaine he kept mentioning was deeper than friendship (he’d said so himself, after all). She didn’t approve. But as a professional, she could not voice this. So she kept her silence as best she could, trying to pretend they were just really close friends, or that Blaine was a girl, when her other option wouldn’t be possible.

  “You’ve been through a lot,” she said again. “And three years of the life you’ve been living will not easily be erased from your mind, even with a person like Blaine at your side.”

  “So,” Kurt said. “You’re basically telling me that I’m fucked for life?”

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying.” She sighed. “It’s going to take time for your mind and soul to heal. Longer than the period of time that has passed since you found your friend.”

  And of course, the idea that one person is able to put another person back together is total bullshit, and while Kurt had always known this, a bit too well at times one could argue, he couldn’t bring himself to know that at the moment. He just felt like he was being ungrateful to Blaine. And for every session in this fucking room, he felt a little bit more hopeless, the voice telling him that this wouldn’t make anything better getting louder and louder.

  “So it’s going to happen? I will be able to get better?” He wouldn’t stop trying yet.

  “That’s what we’re hoping for, is it not?” Mrs. Jacobs said with a very tense and forced half smile.

  Kurt didn’t bother replying. 

  “How are things going with Quinn?”

  Kurt raised an eyebrow and felt his walls raising, but only halfway. “Normal, I guess,” he muttered.

  Kurt’d finally swallowed what little pride he had and started to at least approach the ice between them. It still wasn’t completely down and gone, but at least now he was able to acknowledge her existence, even exchange a couple of words every now and then, so that was something, he guessed.

  “She’s still handling her pregnancy well?”

  “I – guess?” Why were they talking about that?

  “You’re not jealous?”

  “Sorry what now?” This was something new, at least, instead of repeating the same old things again, but he couldn’t really say he liked it. Or understood it.  “Of her unborn baby?” he asked, and eyebrow raised.

  “Partly,” began Mrs. Jacobs. “She was your closest friend and then she got pregnant and moved out, started talking to you less, and your relationship will probably never be the same again after the baby is born.”

  To be honest, Kurt was unable to tell how much of that was actually what was being said in the actual reality. He had a feeling that what he heard and what was said weren’t 100 percent the same. His brain still did this to him sometimes.

  “She wasn’t the only one who started to behave weirdly and started talking to me less, I did the same thing.” Kurt said anyways, not realizing that now he was almost defending her. “I practically stopped going to school, and then the whole stupid Blaine thing happened, and then I started ignoring her – it’s really mostly me.”

  Mrs. Jacobs gave him that same, completely indifferent look as she always did, no matter what he told her. Though he had to admit that he preferred that over his therapist trying to mother him or something. 

  Though, when he took a closer look, he saw the little nod and the way the corner of her mouth was turned upward.

  Oh. Right. 

  So that’d been her point.

As always, Kurt was mentally exhausted once he was finally back outside. Physically tried too, in a strange way; something that got him to really regret his earlier decision to walk to the hospital, where he met with her. Nevertheless, it was still reality, so he’d just have to deal with it. So, hands deep in his pockets, feet dragged behind him, head heavy, he started the walk home.

   Never had he felt so happy to lay down in his not-really-but-still-totally-makeshift bed as when he did later that afternoon. He “rested his eyes” for a moment, only to wake up two hours later, as suddenly as if someone had set off a fire alarm right next to his ear. His alarm clock (or Blaine’s old one, which totally sucked because lately Blaine’d helped him so much it was almost disgusting) showed him that it was about 8pm. He stood up, stretched, and took a couple of turns around the room, only to find himself back in his bed about two minutes later. What else was he supposed to do? He bundled himself up in his newly bought blankets (hail Jesus) and grabbed the book he was reading, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, the first of the two books he’d bought alongside his blankets. He’d almost finished it, and he had to admit that it was actually kinda good. He reminded himself not to thank Blaine for showing them to him, as that would probably please him way too much.

  Kurt sat like that, curled up into a ball inside his blankets, reading and reading, turning page after page, blinking his eyes irritably when they went dry again and again, until his head was pounding from reading in the dark for so long. It was way after midnight, and the only light sources available were the worthless night lamp by his bed and what little light from the street lamps outside that found its way in through the planks, tape and newspaper covering the window just above his head (of course there was the other window, which let in a little more light through its thin cover of newspaper of its own, but it was way too much of an effort to move all his things to that side of the room. Plus, it was Quinn’s part of the room).  

  There were almost three full hours of staring at the ceiling or the wall, tossing and turning, cursing and backaches before Kurt finally managed to fall asleep. Though with sleep came the dreams, and with the dreams came the things, beings, voices, shadows, whatever-they-were, telling him “don’t feel, don’t feel, don’t feel, don’t feel,”

  “Too late,” Kurt said to the darkness, as was the routine by now, gaining more and more confidence for every night. “Way too late.”

  “Don’t let them see you’re weak. Be a good boy. Don’t feel. Don’t feel. Don’t feel.”

  As always, this went on for, what in the dream felt like, an eternity. Just before he finally woke up, the dream version of himself had laid on the ground curled into a ball with shadows all around him, stabbing at him with their words and threats.

  “I wan…” Kurt muttered to himself, first in the dream and then carrying on into reality. “I want to feel. I want to. Leave me alone. I’m not like that anymore. Leave me alone.”

  This hadn’t stopped, had barely even calmed down a little, even though it’d been months now. His mind was still getting the best of him, especially when he was sleeping, or trying to. 

 But he wasn’t giving up, wasn’t giving in. No way. 

  Once again, the next morning, he got reminded of the reason why Blaine hadn’t minded giving away that damn alarm clock. 

  The beeping noise was fucking terrible. It would probably work excellently as a tool of torture, and would in time bring even the best of person to murder for it to just go away. At least, that’s what Kurt felt every morning waking up to it’s terrible screaming; like he’d be willing to commit murder if that would make that fucking noise to just, not be there anymore.

  He managed to get out of bed somehow, changed clothes and went to the “bathroom”. He still hated what he saw in the mirror. That hadn’t changed. He was still as pale and the bags under his eye hadn’t left. He still looked plain and boring as hell. He would never understand how Blaine couldn’t find him beautiful. Like, Blaine? Him? Nah. 

  Kurt’d at least learned to believe him when he told him, but not as far as “yeah you kinda have a point”, more to a “whatever you’re weird but okay”; he’d learned not to deny it.

  His cheeks had admittedly managed to get a little fuller, though. So that was a good change. And maybe his eyes weren’t as dead anymore. Not as many new cuts on his body.

  The self harm had only just started to go away. That would take time, Mrs. Jacobs had told him. It wasn’t something you could just stop doing, not when it’d gotten to “his level”, especially. He managed sometimes though. He’d go on a walk or bite his pillow. Once or twice he’d even gone to see Blaine instead. Or he would bang his head into the wall until he saw black waves in front of him. That was better, because it wouldn’t leave a mark, which mean Blaine wouldn’t have to know and wouldn’t have to feel pain because of something he’d done to himself. And also it made Mrs. Jacobs think that he was doing just a little bit better than he was.

  He brushed his teeth, washed up a little, and was ready to leave. Just in time too, shockingly enough. On the way out, he drank a glass of water from the 10 liter water container standing on the sink. It was clean water that he got from the church (you know, from the taps where you can get water to water the flowers by the graves). This was a very new installment of his, and he liked it, as he knew the water he got through the tap couldn’t be too healthy. Especially not now when he wasn’t drinking as much alcohol as before, which meant more water. 

  Detoxification isn’t fun. Kurt knew that more well than ever before now. Because when you go from drinking almost every day of the week, to about two or one days instead, your body will detox. It’s hell. Kurt was barely able to go through with it. Drinking was way less of a pain in the ass. But he’d been able to pull through. It’d been about two weeks since then, and sometimes he still really, really regretted his decision to “sober up”. (and he knew that here were prescription drugs you could take for it to be easier, but he felt like that was too much work)

  Arriving at school, he did get a few looks, some more skillfully hidden and discreet than others; Kurt Hummel showing up to school in time for first period was still something you rarely saw happening.

  “Kurt,” hissed a voice close to his ear when he was about to enter the history classroom, which was his first subject of the day. He instinctively spun around and nearly pushed a very pregnant Quinn up against the lockers. 

  “Quinn,” Kurt said, taking back his arm, which Quinn held in a firm grip about a feet from her throat. She had reflexes too, and she knew him well.

  “‘Sup?”

  “Nothing much.”

  Like I said, the awkward wasn’t entirely gone yet.

  “So, listen,” Quinn said after a second. “There’s something I’ve decided to do, and it’d kinda appreciate it if you’d come with me.”

  “It’s too late to get an abortion now, you know.” Kurt said with a half smile. She rolled her eyes and smiled sarcastically.

  “I’m going for a scan.” she said. 

  “A – scan scan? But I thought you said you didn’t want to know if it’s be a boy or a girl? Or more like that you were sure it was a girl?”

  “Yeah, I am, but I kinda wanna know for sure.”

  “Thought you –”

  “I changed my mind, okay?” Quinn cut him off.

  “Okay, okay,” Kurt said with a little smile. “So, you, uh, want me to come with you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay? Sure?” He couldn’t not make it sound like a question.

  “Really? Just like that? You’re not going to check with Blaine or anything?”

  Kurt gave her a dark look. Quinn ignored it, of course. 

  “Maybe he has a reservation at some fancy restaurant or something. Or he’s planned a proposal. You sure you can just run away like that?”

  “We’re not married, you fucking dick. So shut up, please.”

  “Might as well be.”

  “Be what?”

  “Married.” she sang with a glint in her eyes.

  “I said shut up, or I swear I’ll hit you even if you’re pregnant.”
  “Ooooh,” Quinn grinned, pretending to be scared. 

  “I’m serious.”

  “Yeah, you wish.” she said. “I might be big as a whale, but I would still win in a fight.”

  “Of course you would.” Kurt rolled his eyes.

  “I’m way faster than you and you know it. Also I’m stronger. Maybe not more gracious at the moment, but I still have the advantage.”

  For the blink of an eye, everything seemed to just stop, for both of them. They smiled small smiles at each other. They hadn’t noticed it, but that last bit of awkwardness seemed to be gone. What had been left of that icy wall seemed to have been demolished at last. 

  “Well, I’ll just,” Kurt said, clearing his throat, in what he thought was a discreet manner, backing off slightly towards the classroom he was supposed to be in. “pop off to class, and we’ll meet up after school, all right? By the car?”

  “I’ll be there.” Quinn said, trying to control her face. Though the second Kurt closed the door behind him, she started smiling like a lunatic.

  You little bastard. She thought. You’re really changing aren’t you? 

  Some random guy wearing a letterman jacket, who seemed to be running late for class, thought it’d be a good idea to grin and whistle sarcastically in her direction when he passed. She snapped her head around and took two quick steps towards him, and he made an almost unnoticeable little jump and suddenly his walking phase had doubled in speed. She winked and waved at him with a little smile when he turned to look behind his shoulder to see if she was still there, and just like that the speed of his steps got even quicker.

  “Still got it,” she said to herself with a satisfied little quirk of her head, walking off to where she was supposed to be herself. 

“About time,” Quinn muttered when Kurt finally reached the car.  “What took you so long?”

  “Figgins office,” Kurt waved off and hopped into the car’s driver’s seat.

  “What’d you do this time?”

  Kurt glared at her. “Nothin’.”

  “Yeah, right. The school principal just called you to his office for a nice little chat, ‘that what you’re saying?”

  “No.”

  “Theeen what?”

  “He called me to his office,” Kurt said, starting the car. “to tell me that I’m not graduating.”

  “What?” Quinn said, somehow alarmed even though they’d all seen it coming already. “Why?”

  “Really, Quinn? Why?”

  “Yeah, okay, so maybe not why but… are you okay with it?”

  “I already knew it was going to happen, or not going to happen – whatever. It’s fine. Anyway, are you sure about this? Getting a scan, I mean?”

  “Oh my God Kurt do not go changing the subject.” Quinn rolled her eyes irritably. “And also do not baby me. I have a child growing inside me, so I’m prett-y sure I don’t need you babying me.”

  “Okay, okay,” Kurt said with a little chuckle. “please don’t rip my throat out.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Quinn said, hands on her belly.

  She was weirdly calm; she’d expected to be nervous, or to get unsure of her decision once they were in the car, but it wasn’t happening. She tried to see it as a good sign, but eventually it was the fact that she wasn’t getting nervous that got her nervous.

  They both ignored what looks they got cast towards them settling down in the waiting room, being so used to them and also being so above and done caring what they thought of them. They knew it all already.   

  When it came to it, when it was time to go inside and for Quinn to get scanned, Kurt suddenly got horribly nervous himself. He wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like it was his child or anything. But the nervousness was there all the same. Quinn smirked at him, a look of almost satisfaction in her eyes, and Kurt just glared back at her. 

  At first, sitting down on a little stool next to Quinn where she was laying on the gurney, he felt awkward and slightly alienated.

  “So how long have you two been together?” asked the nurse who was going to do the scan.

  “Oh, no,” said Quinn. “We’re not a couple. Just friends. Moral support.”

  Kurt gave her a look, because the tone in which she was speaking was a new one. He’d never really heard her talk to a stranger that way. Or anyone. Ever. If she wasn’t being sarcastic, of course.

  “Oh, shut up,” Quinn just hissed in return.

  It was a girl, just like Quinn’d… felt, or however she’d put it. It didn’t matter much. She was happy, so Kurt was happy.

  “What’d you’ve if it was a boy?” he asked as they walked across the parking lot.

  “I would’ve thrown it in the dumpster.” Quinn replied, her face and voice dead serious. Then she had to laugh a little laugh. “No,” she said. “No, it would’t’ve mattered that much. I mean it’s not like I’m gonna panic because I’ve pained to nursery the wrong color or whatever weird stuff people overreact about.”

The next day in school, the very air felt nervous.You could almost taste the anxiety. The crowds of students moving through the hallways were like a giant ball of nerves. The seniors were the worst. Because today was the day. Today they were getting their final doom. Would they graduate, or would they not?

   “So where were you yesterday?” Blaine asked between classes, seeming to be one of the very few seniors who could walk straight and that weren’t on the constant verge of a panic attack. “I came over and you weren’t home.”

  “You mean I should report to you before I do something?” Kurt asked, stepping close to him as they walked towards their lockers.

  Blaine rolled his eyes. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

  “I know.” Kurt said. 

  “So where were you?”

  “Out.” he said shortly.

  “Doiiiing?”

  “Stuff, Blaine.” Kurt said, opening his locker. And, after a few seconds, reappearing from behind the locker door, he added,  “Things.”

  Blaine laughed, rolling his eyes again. “Keep your secrets then.” he said.

  “Thanks.”

  In the car ride home yesterday, Quinn had asked Kurt not to tell the rest of the Skanks what they’d done, and he’d agreed. And he was going to keep the promise.

  Kurt leaned against the locker next to Blaine’s once they’d arrived at his. “So aren’t you at all nervous?” he asked.

  “‘bout what?”

  “The world ending, of course, what the fuck do you think?”

  Blaine smiled a half smile. Shrugged. “I mean, no.” he said. “And not to sound like a total ultra douchebag, but I know I’m graduating, and I know I’m at the top of my class at nearly every subject. So, there’s not really any need for me to be worried.” He looked over at Kurt. “How ‘bout you? Shouldn’t you be worried?”

  “Right, about that, um,” he said, scratching the back of his head. He hadn’t had the chance to tell Blaine about yesterday’s meeting with the principal. “So –” Never had the bell rung in a less appropriate moment. Blaine apologized quickly, told him to tell him later, and became one with the crowd.

  Kurt didn’t feel like going to class. In fact he didn’t feel like doing anything. But he couldn’t just stand there in the middle of the corridor. So he started walking, not really paying any attention to where his feet took him. He didn’t realize he was under the bleachers until he saw Ronnie sitting slumped on the ground, resting her head against one of the poles holding up the seats above.

  “Ronnie?” Kurt said, not actually wanting to at all. 

  Ronnie spun around quickly, clearly thinking that she was absolutely alone, just like Kurt’d hoped to be. “Kurt,” she acknowledged. “What’re you doing here?”

  “Same as you, I guess.” he said, walking over and sitting down on the table closest to Ronnie. He propped up his feet on the bench and put his face in his hands, elbows on his knees. “What’s up?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him, clearly both confused and suspicious at Kurt’s sudden show of interest in her. That was something that had never happened before, to be sure. 

  “I just couldn’t stand being around all those nervous idiots any longer.”

  “Know what you mean.” Kurt muttered. “Though, shouldn’t you be one of them? The nervous idiots I mean?”

  “Guess I should, but I’m not.” She lowered her head. “I already know I’m not graduating.”

  “You were called to Figgins’s office too?” Kurt asked before thinking.

  “Yeah, how’d you – oh. Right.” She nodded. “Well. Congrats on failing highschool.”

  “You too.” Kurt said with and actual little smile.

  “My parents’re gonna kill me though.” Ronnie said heavily after a while of silence.

  Kurt just looked at her. He already knew she had problems at home, to some extent at least, but it was always kinda hard talking about that kind of stuff. Maybe it was especially hard to talk about it with Ronnie, because he’d always looked down on her, in a way. She’d always seemed so stupid and naive to him, and not in the way Brittany did. But now, now she was completely different. 

  “Hope they don’t.” he said finally. She looked at him weirdly. “I’m gonna need someone to keep me company after everyone else’s graduated, right?”

  Ronnie smiled hesitantly at him. “Ditto.” she said, then started biting her nails. They sat in silence after that, a respectful one, both knowing that the other had come there in search of a quiet place to be alone in, just like themselves. 

  “So do I need to be worried?” Blaine asked Kurt as him and Ronnie joined their table at lunch.

  “Super worried.” Kurt answered. “She’s so much better than you at basically everything. You’ll never be able to please me or comfort me the way she can. I’ll always think of her when you’re kissing me from now on until forever. Sorry.”

  Blaine laughed, forcing himself to swallow whatever it was he was eating. He couldn’t be sure if it was supposed to be lasagna or porridge. It didn’t really taste like either, but looked like a mixture of both.

  “So, about that senior skipping day thing?” Santana asked. “Is is still happening or have we changed our minds?” Looking around the table, no one really seemed to be sure. “Oh for fuck’s sake people,” she groaned. “Really?”

  “Okay, okay, sure, whatever.” Mackenzie hissed, her eyes shut tightly, rubbing her temples.

  “What’s the matter with you then?” Santana asked her. “Hungover?”

  “Fuck off.” Mackie grunted at her.

  “Hungover.” Santana confirmed. “Smart girl, that one.” She turned towards the rest of the table. “Come on. For real. Why am I suddenly the one showing the most interest in this thing? Ronnie? What happened to your enthusiasm?”

  Ronnie looked up from her plate, her food still untouched. “What?” she said, both sounding and looking pretty lost. Kurt unconsciously felt bad for her for a short second. She seemed to be more affected by the news that he was.

  “Whatever.” Santana said, a little irritably. “Whatever. Forget it.”

  “No,” Kurt said, to everyone’s surprise. “No, let’s do it. Let’s make it happen.”

  “Guess I’m in if he is?” Blaine said, giving Kurt a sideways look.

  “The question still is,” Quinn said after everyone had agreed. “Where are we supposed to go? Because I’m not going to a bar. Or a club. Or any other place involving alcohol. It’s not happening.”

  After a moment’s silence, Sheila turned to face the group. “I have an idea.” she said with a little smile.

Out of the group, Brittany and Sheila were the only ones who’d previously been to Breadstix. The other’s had heard of it, sure, but had never gone. Mostly because of money issues, for almost all of them. Or just a general lack of interest. They agreed on going there that evening though. As a joke, mostly. It was a cheap restaurant too so that was a plus, but it was mostly as a joke. Since they were all (or, well, almost all) graduating in a couple of weeks, they would be entering the “adult life”. So going to a totally normal, alcohol free, no-fake-IDs-required restaurant with your friends, was kind of an ironic insight of it. That’s how Sheila put it anyhow. And maybe the others agreed to it because they couldn’t think of anything better, or they actually just, you know, agreed. None of them really told. 

  Santana and Brittany arrived together, as they so often did, then came Sheila, Ronnie and Mackie, having ridden the bus there together, then Blaine on his motorcycle, and then, a fuming Kurt. He came last. About half an hour after the time they’d agreed on.

  “What took you so long?” Blaine asked him whilst they were all reading their menus. They’d all avoided asking this question, because the look in Kurt’s eyes made them afraid he might’ve ripped their throats out with his teeth if they did.

  “The damn car’s out of gas again.” Kurt muttered back. 

  “So why haven’t you bought more?”

  “It’s so fucking expensive,” he said, pretending to read the menu, when he was actually just looking for the cheapest thing on there. “I get like an anxiety attack buying something for that much money. I’m tellin’ you, I’d be much more comfortable just continuing stealing it.”

  Blaine looked up from his menu and gave Kurt a stern look. “We talked about this.” he said.

  Kurt made a couple of faces towards him, mimicking him. “No more stealing, I know, I know.” he muttered. “But, I have to say, that’s only fair if I can afford it. And I really can’t afford gas. I swear, it’s more expensive than gold.”

  “You don’t have to tell me about the prices, I know. But I still don’t think you should steal when you have money.”

  “It’s still barely enough though.” Kurt said, though he still felt overwhelmingly blessed to finally have money enough to buy himself food, and sometimes things he needed too.

  “Fine.” Blaine said, putting down his menu on the table. “I’ll just lend you some money then.”

  Kurt glared at him, resisting the urge to stab him with his fork. “I’m furious you’d ever suggest that.” he said. “You know full well you don’t have enough money to ‘just lend me some’. And you also know that I’d never accept such an offer, even if you did have the money to spend. Knowing Kate’s paying my rent, however low it might be, is enough, thank you.” 

  Everybody ended up choosing the buffet, for one reason or another. Most of them because it was the one where you could eat as much as you wanted and for not too much money, clearly. They all felt incredibly stupid, and for once the looks they got got on their nerves. By the time they’d all settled down to eat, Mackie was clenching her teeth loudly.

  “Would they stop looking at us like we’ve got three heads and cocks on our foreheads?” he hissed, trying to concentrate on her food.

  “Or like we’re a bunch of teenagers that doesn’t really look like they at all fit in in this kind of place.”

  “Oh please,” Quinn rolled her eyes. “It’s not like this is a fancy restaurant. Like, at all.” She took a bite of a breadstick, which was chewy and not at all crispy, making her point. 

  “No, but we still don’t really belong here, you have to admit that.” argued Santana.

  “We belong here just as much as we belong at some club, where we’re all too young to be. And I am not saying this because I’m pregnant, so shut up before you say that. I’m just stating the obvious since you guys’ve all turned into pussies.” –She received a couple of sideways glances.– “Since when did you care so much about what other people think anyways?” 

  “Since there’s a pregnant wale amongst us that’s already lowering our obvious badassness.” Kurt said, putting his head on her shoulder and batting his eyelashes at her. Quinn snorted, a smile on her lips.

  They continued eating, they went for seconds, they went for thirds, again and again until they could barely move. It’d been ages since most of them had eaten that much. The conversation never died, ever. In fact, there were usually at least three conversations being carried out at once, and once they’d all eaten enough for a life time, payed the food bill, and were back outside in the late spring air, Kurt’s head was swimming and pounding. Something he wasn’t too glad about, since he used to be able to handle much more noise and such for a much longer period of time.

  He took a fist of the back of Blaine’s jacket in his hand, pulling him back towards him. “You’ve made me into a softie, you pice of shit.” he said in his ear as they walked on, Blaine’s back as close to Kurt’s chest as he could manage since they were still walking. 

  “Mmm,” hummed Blaine with a little lazy smile. “I regret nothing.”

  Kurt laughed quietly close to him, then pushed him forwards, almost making him fall. Blaine couldn’t stop a couple of breathes of laughter from leaving his lips as he tried his best to regain his balance without removing his hands from his pockets. 

  Somehow, they, all of them, kept walking, through the parking lot and down the street, without really agreeing on it. Secretly none of them really wanted to go home just yet. And it was still pretty early.

  They ended up at the little park located a little while away from centrum. It wasn’t much, really. There were a couple of trees and benches. A lot of grass. Overflowing trash bins. And a little playground. There was a group of kids that all seemed to be around the age of 7 playing there, but they all vanished almost the second they saw the group of teenagers appear.

  “Man, this would be much more enjoyable if I was drunk.” complained Mackenzie. Quinn pushed her shoulder. 

  “Don’t be so fucking grumpy, Mackie. Live a little.”

  “You mean as in climb that, whatever that’s supposed to be, or slide on slide or swing on the swing set? Sober?”

  “Or make a sand castle.” Quinn smiled, a deadly glint in her eye. She would probably make a decent mom after all, Mackie decided.

  It took them a while, but they all loosed up a little, leaving a bit of their overflowing pride and stubbornness behind. Kurt and Mackenzie were the last ones. Blaine was the one who convinced them, and by that he almost got his head ripped off. Throwing sand in their hair wasn’t a popular idea on the receivers’ side.

  “I’m gonna fucking kill you!” Kurt yelled, running after Blaine as fast as he could, though not fast enough to actually catch him, and it didn’t take long until he was panting for Blaine to slow down.

  Blaine laughed. “So you can kill me?”

  “No, so I can kiss you.”

  He slowed to a stop, suspicious, with a playful I-dare-you smirk on his lips. Kurt looked at him innocently, walked up to him, and stepped in close for the promised kiss. Blaine kissed back happily, surprised that Kurt’d mean what he’d said about not killing him. As his hands found their way around Kurt’s back, and Kurt reached towards his head, Blaine naturally thought it was to grab his hair, as he loved doing whenever he got the chance. He was wrong.

  “You prick!” he shrieked, as a handful of cold sand fell in his hair and down his neck, finding its way in under his shirt and down his back.

  “Like I was gonna let you get away without payback.” Kurt smirked slyly, still inches away from Blaine’s face. This distracted him, having Kurt so close, and with the sun shining on his hair and face, and his eyes shining like suns of their own and wow, Blaine was lucky. He forgave him rather quickly, and the uncomfortable feeling of damp sand under his clothes was forgotten almost just as fast.

  “Can you do that again?” he asked.

  “What, throw sand in your hair?” Kurt asked in return, still with a small smile on his lips.

  “No, fucktard, kiss me. Again. Right now.”

  Kurt did his best to hide a grin.

  “Ordering me around now are we?” he said.

  Blaine groaned quietly, this was taking too long, stood up a little on his tiptoes and kissed him himself.

  “That I’m always the one doing all the work,” he mumbled against his lips and Kurt smiled a little.  

When the air started to get a little too chilly for comfort and the sun was starting to descend behind the house-and-treetops for the day, the Skanks were still by the playground. Though all of them but Ronnie, who was sitting on one of the swings by herself, thinking, were spread out on the grass surrounding it.

  “Well,” said Santana, stretching her arms above  her head. “This was boring. I’m going to Scandals. Any of you coming?”

  Mackie raised her hand immediately, followed quickly by Sheila, then Ronnie, after they called out the question to her, since she was too far away to have heard them the first time. She lowered her hands again after a second though. She had to go home. In fact, she was already late, she remembered with a sinking feeling in her stomach.

  After telling her parents she wouldn’t be graduating, they’d been angry and pretty disappointed (though maybe not as angry and disappointed as they should’ve been, one could argue). She’d gotten pretty grounded, and had snuck out of the house in order to spend the day with her friends. When her phone vibrated on the way to Breadsticks, she’d been scared for her life to open the text. Death threats, for sure, she’d thought.

Only it hadn’t been.

  ‘be home by 6’  it had said.

  She was already over two hours late. No way she’d push her luck and chance of  survival any further.

  Brittany couldn’t go, either, to Santana’s disappointment. Apparently she had to study. And of course, Quinn couldn’t come.

  They all looked to Kurt and Blaine, who were currently lying on their backs a short distance away from the rest of the group, close together and with their fingers lazily intertwined between them.
Santana cleared her throat loudly. Kurt looked up at her, the irritation clear on his face.

  “What?” he said, making no effort to hide that same irritation from his voice.

  “You coming?”

  “Where?” Now it was Blaine asking. He was rubbing his eyes and squinted at her.

  Santana rolled her eyes. “To Scandals.” she said,

  Blaine looked over at Kurt for just a second. They seemed to be saying something to each other with their eyes. Asking, deciding.

  “Nah,” both of them said, almost in perfect synch.

  All of the others stared at them. They’d all expected the two, especially Kurt, to be the first ones to have jumped at the idea.

  “You suck.” Santana told them, almost matter-of-factly.

  They all stood up, Santana helping Quinn; she was getting bigger and bigger, and it was getting harder and harder to stand up after sitting down, especially if you’d been sitting on the ground, and especially if you’d done so for several hours.  

   “Those two…” Santana muttered to Quinn once she’d gotten up and gained balance. “Is that how Brittany and I seem to you guys?”

  Quinn smiled. “Yeah,” she said. “But worse.”

  Santana smiled sarcastically at her, giving her the finger. 

  “It’s weirder seeing them like that though, I have to admit.”

  It really was. But it was reality all the same.

  “So what do you say about me coming home with you for the night?” Kurt asked as they were walking back to the parking lot, several meters being the rest of the group. “I mean, since I walked here and I really don’t feel like walking all the way back.”

  Blaine hummed in agreement, a little smile in his eyes. 

Once they’d arrived at Blaine’s house and they were inside again, they both rushed to the kitchen, and there was a little fight over who was going to get to use the tap first and who was going to have to wait. They were both nearly dying of thirst, or that’s what it felt like. They ended up both drinking at the same time, directly from the tap, and they both laughed (though it was more alike a giggle) as their drinking turned into kissing, the water still running. Blaine, suddenly feeling a flash of evil genius surging through him, grabbed Kurt’s head, pretending for a second that he was just playing with his hair, then, quick as lightning strikes, made his hold firmer, pulled away, and put Kurt’s head directly under the flow, ice-cold water. Kurt shrieked loudly, flailing his arms about. Blaine laughed, proud of himself, making sure to jump back as far as he could once he let go of Kurt’s head.

  “This time,” Kurt swore, shivering as the water dripped down his face and neck, soaking his shirt. “You’ll not get away as quickly and easily.”

  And like children, they started a furious game of tag around the lower level of the house, yelling and laughing.

  Bliss.

  Their eyes, smiles, faces – their entire bodies, shining and overflowing with it.

  They ended up getting stuck for quite some time standing on either side of the armchair, Blaine by the backrest, Kurt by the front, leaned forward with his hands on the armrests.

  “I’m going to catch you sooner or later.” Kurt promised.

  “No you’re not,” purred Blaine.

  “I did last time didn’t I?”

  “Only because I slowed down.”

  Kurt ‘ooh’d, grinning, and instead of trying to catch him, he head-banged, once, hard, sending the water in his hair spraying at Blaine’s face. He yelled out in surprise, his voice breaking a little.

  “SHUT UP!” thundered a voice from upstairs. It was so loud and came so suddenly, both of them crouched a little out of reflex. They held back their laughter like little girls fighting to stay quiet during class after the teacher had told to stop laughing for the tenth time in five minutes. 

  Eventually, Kurt did catch him, though then so much time had passed, his hair was almost completely dry. Dry enough so that he couldn’t spread any of the water to Blaine at least, something Blaine was grateful for. They were laying on the couch, Kurt on top, their legs a mess poking out and one end; they’d been standing up at the end, then fallen down on it.

  Kurt rested the side of his face against Blaine’s chest, both fighting to catch their breathes, their eyes closed, still unable to stop smiling completely. 

  “Hey,” Kurt said quietly after almost fifteen minutes of silences and closeness. “do you have any plans for after graduation?”

  Blaine opened his eyes. What a way to ruin the mood. “Not really.” he answered. “I mean, I obviously can’t do much with mom being, you know, mom.”

  “Yeah I know, but, like,” He sat up. Blaine followed. “It there anything you’d want to do if she wasn’t like she is?”

  Blaine was silent for quite some time before answering. “Honestly, I’ve tried my best not to think about it.” he said then. “I mean, it’s not like I really have a choice. Not from my point of view anyways. So it just feels like, you know, if I’d find something that I’d actually really want to do, I’d just start getting more and more sick of the situation me and mom are in right now, and I don’t want that to happen. I’m content like this.”

  Kurt nodded silently, he could understand that.

  “Or, well, there’s once thing I’d like to change if I could,” Blaine said after a second thought. “If I could get a job that pays better and that doesn’t feel as sketchy with its legal work, I wouldn’t exactly complain.”

  Kurt smiled. “Yeah, agreed.” he said.

  A while of silence.

  “Hey, by the way, you never told me what you were gonna tell me by the lockers like forever ago.”

  “Right.” Kurt said, both surprised that Blaine remembered that, and a little unnerved that now he’d have to find a way to tell him. Suddenly it felt like a much bigger deal than he’d thought of it before.

  Realizing he was taking long to answer and not wanting to seem to dramatic about it, he just told him right upfront. Easiest that way, anyway, at least with things like this.

  “I’m not graduating.”

  There was only a second until Blaine replied. “I know.” he said.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, I mean after you told us the fantastic statistics of your stunningly perfect school attendance from the last years, I guessed. And then there were other signs that I’m not gonna tell you about since they might creep you out.”

  “Like how you could tell from the way I looked at a certain moment or how I said a specific thing?” Kurt joked.

  “Something like that, yes.” Blaine admitted with a smile.

  “Well,” said Kurt. “I’m for one is happy that you don’t have any big plans of leaving Ohio or something the second you graduate.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah.” Kurt said, unable to stop his ears from going a little pink. “It would totally suck to not have you around.”