Stranger still is that after their hallway incident, Kurt leaves Blaine more or less alone. He isn't nice, exactly, but he doesn't seem to go out of his way to bother Blaine in class. Doesn't look at him, barely even acknowledges his existence.

It's Rachel who gets slushied on Wednesday, and this time Blaine helps clean her up in the bathroom.

Things are looking up. Well, for him, at least. For his clothes at the very best.

It’s Mrs. McCrea, his fifth period History teacher, who ends his stroke of good luck.

"Blaine Anderson, Kurt Hummel."

Two names, harmlessly stated side by side.

This is not happening, Blaine thinks.

Mrs. McCrea is pairing them up for a huge assignment, and of all the people in the entire classroom�this�is who Blaine gets partnered with. Blaine looks over at Kurt, but Kurt is looking down at his textbook in disinterest.

After Mrs. McCrea is finished reading names, everyone starts getting up to join their partners. Kurt, the jackass, stays put like he isn’t even a part of the class. Blaine scowls and reluctantly goes over to join him, giving a small wave of goodbye to Mercedes.

Blaine sits down next to Kurt, who rolls his eyes and says, "Failure is imminent."

Blaine bristles. "You think the failure would be on�my�part? What do you have, a D average?"

Kurt just snorts and stares straight ahead.

Blaine tries to keep his mouth shut, but who the hell does Kurt think he is? "I've gone to private school my entire life. I learned this stuff two years ago," he hisses, "so no, as long as I don't leave the work to you, failure is not�imminent."

Kurt's hand shoots up. "Mrs. McCrea, Blaine won't stop talking and I can't hear your instructions."

Blaine blushes, embarrassed.

"Blaine, there will be time to discuss your project after I explain it," the teacher says, and resumes her spiel.

Blaine sinks lower in his seat. God hates him, that is the only explanation. Or it's bad karma. He's paying for the time he accidentally broke the vase in David's foyer and blamed the dog. Or maybe that one time he cheated at Monopoly, or put saran wrap over Wes's toilet seat...

Blaine is thinking so hard about his miserable situation that he nearly misses the entire explanation of the project. Something about Abraham Lincoln and the debate over his views on American Indians.

"So...I guess we can--"

"Quiet," Kurt interjects, still not looking at him. He bends over his paper and begins furiously writing.

O-kay. Blaine will just...read the chapter. He opens his book and begins to read, stealing a glance at Kurt every now and then, but Kurt seems intent on ignoring him.� Mrs. McCrea walks around the classroom, passing out the outline for their project. Kurt skims it but doesn’t say anything.

At the end of class, Kurt slides one of the papers he's been working on over to Blaine. "You work on this, and I'll do the other half," he says.

Blaine pauses, looking down at the paper Kurt gave him. Kurt has surprisingly nice handwriting, and the work does seem evenly divided.

"I need to maintain a 4.0, or my dad'll kill me," Blaine admits, not trusting Kurt to follow through on his end. "I'll do the project, okay? Don't worry about it."

Kurt snaps his book shut, clearly pissed off. "I'm not a moron."

"Really? You could have fooled me, considering whose company you keep. They must have the combined IQ of 2. Yesterday in English Azimio asked the teacher what a particle was, and if it was 'one of those things that spins around an atom.'"

"A particle is a function word that doesn't belong to one of the major parts of speech; and nothing spins around an atom," Kurt says, gathering his things and shoving them in his backpack. "And I can handle this project, so if you're done acting like a pretentious jerk-off--"

"Me?�I'm�the jerk-off? That's rich, coming from you," Blaine says, feeling a sense of liberation at finally give a little back. "Did you, like...forget who you are? You're the biggest jerk-off in all of McKinley!"

At this, a few of the other students look over.

Kurt shoves Blaine's things off the table, sending books, pens, and papers flying. "You're damn right I am," he says, and stalks out of the classroom.

"Kurt Hummel!" Mrs. McCrea calls after him. But he is already gone.

----

The tension between Blaine and Kurt during History is palpable.

They speak to each other as little as possible. Anything out of Kurt's mouth is a jibe, prompting Blaine to get his own digs in. The work is difficult to divide up at times, too many questions rely on previous answers, and communication between both boys can't be avoided.

During their group work time on Friday, Blaine turns to ask Kurt something, only to find him sound asleep, cheek propped on the crook of his elbow. Blaine's first thought is: what can I do to get him back? Put something in his hair? Draw on his face? Hide his textbooks?

Guilt cuts Blaine's thoughts short. He isn't this person. All the animosity between them is turning him into someone he doesn't want to be. Sure, good-natured pranks between friends is fun -- he's pulled many at Dalton and has been the recipient of even more. But he and Kurt aren't friends and his intentions are not in good spirits. He doesn't like Kurt, and he doesn't deserve all the crap Kurt pulls, but he doesn't have to resort to it in turn. He is better than that.

After a long moment of indecision, Blaine touches his fingers to Kurt's arm. "Kurt," he whispers. "Wake up. You'll get in trouble."

Kurt's eyes blink open. A look of confusion, then alarm. "Oh, thanks," he says, sounding groggy. He raises his head and looks at Blaine like he doesn't know who he is. Blaine sees the moment Kurt realizes what's happening, and turns away.

"No problem," Blaine says, pretending to get back to work.

Kurt probably regrets that thank you. He doesn't say anything at all.

�

�

----

�

As it turns out, the way Kurt has divided their work�is�problematic. Blaine needs to write a short essay about Lincoln’s political reasons for abolishing slavery, but Kurt has taken that section of notes. Blaine supposes he can just look up the information himself, but he wants their work to be cohesive.

The essay is due Monday, and Blaine doesn't have Kurt's number.�He can't fail this assignment and isn't about to take the chance that Mrs. McCrea would give him an extension, not on such short notice. He contemplates finding Kurt on Monday morning and getting the notes from him then, but he can't guarantee having time in his classes to write the paper.

This leaves one option; he'll have to go to Kurt's house. Rachel mentioned it's on her block, and with a quick phone call he has the address.

Kurt's house looks nice from the outside. Brick, two level ranch, nice yard with a truck in the driveway. Blaine parks behind the truck, stomach turning from sudden nerves. He slowly makes his way up the walk. Maybe he should have parked at Rachel's house and walked over...

"Can I help you?" says a voice to his right.

Blaine nearly jumps in surprise - why is he so nervous? - and plasters a smile across his face. "Hi, I'm looking for, uh, Kurt Hummel? Does he live here?"

The man has come from the backyard in a pair of dirty coveralls, flannel shirt, jeans, boots, worn baseball cap. He looks Blaine up and down in assessment. "Yeah. You a friend of his?"

Blaine isn't sure how to answer that at first.�No�is on the tip of his tongue, but that would be awkward considering this is probably Kurt's dad.

"Yeah. We're partners for a History project. I just need to get some notes from him. I'm Blaine. Anderson," he adds, and holds out his hand. He usually has better manners than this.

The man doesn't reply with anything right away. "Better not shake, I just got back from work," he says, holding up two very dirty looking hands. "Nice to meet you, Blaine. I'm Burt, Kurt's father. He's upstairs if you wanna go up."

Blaine lowers his hand. "Oh, thanks." He stands there, waiting for Burt to let him in.

Burt cracks a small smile. "Go ahead, it's unlocked. I got a piece'a shit lawnmower I gotta try and fix before I go in. Kurt's probably upstairs in his room, just call out."

"Okay, Mr. Hummel," Blaine says, returning the smile. "It was nice to meet you."

"Sure. See ya, kid."

Feeling suitably intimidated, as though Burt knows everything about him just from looking, Blaine quickly makes his way inside.

He steps into the living room and looks around. It's nice. Well kept, fairly large. Blaine doesn't know what he expected, really. There's no sign of Kurt. Blaine peeks in the kitchen, calls Kurt's name to make sure he isn't on the lower level. No reply.�Blaine feels like he's trespassing as he makes his way upstairs, taking each stair carefully as though they might break below him. Stupid thought, and he's nervous again.

"Kurt?"

There's still no reply, but Blaine can hear�something. It sounds like...singing?

Blaine follows the sound and creeps over to the door it's coming from. He listens with his ear close, almost touching.

"...Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings and learn to fly..."

Someone is singing, and it definitely isn't Paul McCartney. It's too soft and fragile. It’s beautiful.

The voice is familiar, but there is no way.�No�way. It has to be...does Kurt have a sister? Maybe a cousin. Blaine doesn't know, but whoever it is, he can't help but be a little entranced. Blaine stays nearly pressed to the door, listening to the song until it is over.�There isn't a sound afterward beyond muted footsteps, and before Blaine can even think about what he's doing, his knuckles find the door and knock.

"Yeah?" The door swings open suddenly, and Blaine's forgotten he's standing so close. He's practically nose to nose with Kurt Hummel. Not his sister. Of course it wasn't a sister, and Kurt is clearly expecting the person beyond the door to be his father. There's a distinct look of shock on Kurt's face, and just as fast as Kurt opened the door, he slams it shut.

Blaine stands stock still for a moment.

"Kurt?"

The door opens slowly this time and Kurt slips out, closing it quietly behind him. Blaine can't tell if Kurt is embarrassed, angry, or both; his expression is cold and unreadable.

"What are you doing at my house?"

Blaine clears his throat. "I need your History notes. For the essay. Your dad let me in," he adds.

Kurt glares at him, as if trying to decide if Blaine is being honest. "Fine. Wait right here. Do�not�move." With that, Kurt slips back into his room. In a glance Blaine sees a neatly made bed with a rich, red comforter and matching pillows, and that's it.

Kurt returns a moment later and shoves the papers at Blaine. "Anything else?"

There is something else. Not only does Kurt have a great voice, but he is the�last�person Blaine would imagine sitting around in his room singing a Beatles song. Kurt doesn't seem to enjoy anything. He's surly and mean and...he's a�bully.

Blaine can't help himself, the words are out of his mouth before he can stop them. "No, but-- Kurt, was that you singing? You're�really�good."

The sudden pink of Kurt's cheeks is unmistakable. He shifts, clearly uncomfortable. "That was a CD, moron. They play music?"

"Kurt..."

"Blaine. It's a CD."

Blaine's teeth scrape along his lower lip, eyes on the other boy. "That was not McCartney. I'm not an idiot, I have that album. You don't have to be�embarrassed, I think it's�awesome."

Maybe Kurt is an asshole, and maybe Blaine kind of hates him, but he has a hard time being dishonest.

Kurt's eyes dart beyond Blaine, his hand gripped tight to his bedroom doorknob. "Listen, it wasn't me, and you need to leave. I didn't ask you to come over, and I don't want you here," he says harshly, opening his bedroom door.

"Kurt, I'm--"

"Goodbye." The door slams shut behind him once more, and Blaine winces.

Blaine says nothing, but waits a minute longer. Silence.�Before Kurt has him forcibly removed from the house by his father, Blaine descends the stairs. If he takes his time, well, no one needs to know.

Back home, Blaine reads over Kurt's work. It's perfect.�Blaine has been under the impression that Kurt doesn't like school, doesn't try at school. He hadn't thought there was one refined or intellectual thing about Kurt Hummel. Today he's been proven wrong twice over, even if by accident.

So, what else is Kurt hiding?