After we had reached school, Rachel had just about jumped me the second Blaine had left my side to find his sister Mercedes so I was pretty much cornered. “Maybe,” I teased,
“Was my text message that obvious? Can we go somewhere a little more private?”

“Sure!” she said linking our arms together and prattling on and on about Finn as we walked to the tables outside the school. We both had ponchos on as the delicate rain was misting lightly all over the school but we were hopeful that it wouldn’t get any heavier as the weather was promising to look a little brighter over the next couple of days. I couldn’t remember a time when I was so optimistic about the weather in Forks and I smiled.

“Sooooo, what did you want to talk about?” Rachel asked a knowing look on her face. “You can tell me anything, you know that right? I know we still haven’t come to terms with deciding which one of us is the better singer but please—I consider you one of my closest friends!”

I nodded, “Yeah thanks. And FYI, I am totally the better singer. Oh look, here comes Tina!”

Rachel didn’t look impressed and I didn’t think it had anything to do with the comment that I was the better singer. She tended to tune out when anyone said they were better than her. “Oh hello Tina,” Rachel said, “Shouldn’t you be somewhere with Mike right now? Kurt and I were just about to have a D & M.”

“A what?” she asked looking to me in her confusion but I shrugged as well.

Rachel rolled her eyes as if it weren’t the most obvious thing in the world. “A deep and meaningful and private conversation.” She was repeatedly jerking her head to the side, as if to subtly tell Tina to go away, but she was being so obvious I didn’t have the heart to be rude and Tina had already sat down. “It’s fine Rachel, she can stay. Has anyone seen Brit or
Lauren? I could really use some girl time.”

“Say no more Swan,” Lauren greeted as she came round the corner joining us at our table. Rachel put her hands up in defeat. “I just dropped Brit off at the res to spend some time with her girl but what did I miss?”

“Nothing yet,” I told her.

“Except Rachel moving her head to the side like she was suffering with a weird spasm!” Tina added, mumbling.

I clapped my hands together, “Okay, so I have a question for you all. How soon is too soon?”

“In regards to what?” Lauren asked.

I looked down at the table, “In regards to relationships…”

“Oh my God, you’re sleeping with Blaine!” Rachel exclaimed, clamping both her hands over her mouth.

“What? No! No, no, no, I wasn’t talking about that. I mean Blaine and I went pretty far this morning but I—“

“How far?” Lauren questioned.

I blushed, “Nah c’mon, I’m sure you don’t want all the details.”

“We don’t,” Tina shook her head, “But use the baseball code. How far did you get? We all know you passed first? Have you reached second?”

I was quick to notice how easily I had all of their attention. So with the softest voice I could muster, I huddled us all closer together. “…third, maybe. Sort of. But that wasn’t what
I—”

“What?!” Rachel almost shrieked, hands flying to her face again, “Kurt, that’s really soon. Finn and I—“

“—are not Blaine and Kurt,” interrupted Lauren, “Good on you, Swan. Happy for you. Maybe Rachel is right and it is a little too soon but you are the own judge of your relationship and only you can decide how fast you want to go.”

“Do you love him?” Tina asked a sappy smile on her face as if I were about to retell Romeo and Juliet.

“Well see that’s what I wanted to talk to you all about. Girls… I’m falling for Blaine. Hard. I just want to know—is it too soon?”

At this, Rachel actually had no ill-comment, “It’s never too soon. When you know, you know. I’m happy for you too.” She quickly looked at Tina who suddenly broke out of her reverie,
“What she means is, we’re all happy for you.”

~.~

After the talk with the girls, I had spent the rest of the morning with them in the only good bathroom in the school, trying not to look like I had not just had the time of my life in the backseat of a car with a drop-dead gorgeous guy. I didn’t regret what had happened. I also didn’t feel cheap or easy about it either but I was certainly not going to let myself look like it.

The bell had just rung for lunch when I finally saw Blaine again.

“There’s something I have to tell you.”

We were in the cafeteria at this point. “And what’s that?” I asked.

"I'm leaving with Mercedes after lunch."

"Oh." I blinked, bewildered and disappointed. "That's okay. I’m sure I can hitch a ride with Rachel. Or walk. It isn’t that far."

He frowned at me impatiently. "I'm not going to make you walk home. We'll go get your truck and leave it here for you."

"My car keys are in my locker," I sighed. "But I really don't mind walking."

What I minded was losing my time with him.

He shook his head. "Your truck will be here, and the key will be in the ignition — unless you're afraid someone might steal it.” He laughed at the thought.

"So where are you going?" I asked as casually as I could manage.

"Hunting," he answered grimly. "If I'm going to be alone with you tomorrow, I'm going to take whatever precautions I can." His face grew morose… and pleading. "You can always
cancel, you know. I wouldn’t think any differently of you for doing the smarter thing."

I looked down, afraid of the persuasive power of his eyes. I refused to be convinced to fear him, no matter how real the danger might be. It doesn’t matter, I repeated in my head.

"No," I whispered, glancing back at his face. "I can't."

"Perhaps you're right," he murmured bleakly. His eyes seemed to darken in color as I watched.

I changed the subject. "What time will I see you tomorrow?" I asked, already depressed by the thought of him leaving now.

"That depends… it's a Saturday, don't you want to sleep in?" he offered.

"No," I answered too fast. He restrained a smile.

"The same time as usual, then," he decided. "Will Burt be there?"

"No, he's fishing tomorrow, with Artie and a couple of his friends." I hoped Artie would resound his cool and not bring up anything tomorrow during their trip.

His voice turned sharp. "And if you don't come home, what will he think? Artie would not keep quiet if that happened."

"He knows I’m with you," I answered coolly. "But he knows I've been meaning to do the laundry. Maybe he'll think I fell in the washer."

He scowled at me and I scowled back. His anger was much more impressive than mine. But I just needed more practice. It was hard competing when your boyfriend was over a hundred years old.

"What are you hunting tonight?" I asked when I was sure I had lost the glowering contest.

"Whatever we find in the park. We aren't going far." He seemed bemused by my casual reference to his secret realities.

"Why are you going with Mercedes?" I wondered.

"Mercedes is the most… supportive." He frowned as he spoke.

"And the others?" I asked timidly. "What are they?" His brow puckered for a brief moment.

"Incredulous, for the most part." I peeked quickly behind me at his family. They sat staring off indifferent directions, exactly the same as the first time I'd seen them.

Only now they were only four of them at their table because their beautiful, bronze-haired brother sat across from me, his golden hazel eyes troubled.

"They don't like me," I guessed.

"That's not it," he disagreed, but his eyes were too innocent. "They don’t understand why I can't leave you alone."

I grimaced. "Funny. I’m having the same issues."

Blaine shook his head slowly, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling before he met my gaze again. "I told you — you don't see yourself clearly at all. You're not like anyone I've ever known. You move me, Kurt. I find myself looking for excuses to spend more time with you."

He smiled as he deciphered my expression. "Having the advantages I do,” he murmured, touching his forehead discreetly, "I have a better than average grasp of human nature. People are predictable. But you… you never do what I expect. You zig every time I think you’re going to zag and I love that about you."

I looked away, my eyes wandering back to his family.

"The way I feel about you, it’s easy enough to explain to them," he continued. I felt his eyes on my face but I couldn't look at him yet, afraid I would burst and admit to him what I had to the girls this morning. "But there's more… and it's not so easy to put into words —"

I was still staring at the Cullens while he spoke. Suddenly Quinn, his blond and breathtaking sister, turned to look at me. No, not to look — to glare, with dark, cold eyes. I wanted to look away, but her gaze held me until Blaine broke off mid-sentence and made an angry noise under his breath. It was almost a hiss.

Quinn turned her head, and I was relieved to be free. I looked back at Blaine — and I knew he could see the confusion and fear that widened my eyes.

His face was tight as he explained. "I'm sorry about that. She's just worried. You see… it's dangerous for more than just me if, after spending so much time with you so publicly…" He looked down.

"If?"

"If this ends… badly." He dropped his head into his hands, as he had that night in Port Angeles. His anguish was plain; I yearned to comfort him, but I was at a loss to know how. My hand reached toward him involuntarily; like it was reflex. I would never tire of holding his hand. I realized slowly that his words should frighten me. I waited for that fear to come, but all I could seem to feel was an ache for his pain.

And frustration — frustration that Quinn had interrupted whatever he was about to say. I didn't know how to bring it up again. He still had his head in his hands.
I tried to speak in a normal voice. "And you have to leave now?" The bell was due to ring soon.

"Yes." He raised his face; it was serious for a moment, and then his mood shifted and he smiled. "It's probably for the best. We still have fifteen minutes of that wretched movie left to endure in Biology — I don't think I could take any more."

I jumped.

Mercedes — her black wavy hair hanging angelically around her round dark face — was suddenly standing behind his shoulder. Though her frame was larger than an average girl’s she stood graceful even in absolute stillness.

He greeted her without looking away from me. "Mercedes."

"Blaine," she answered, her musical voice almost as attractive as his.

"Mercedes, Kurt —Kurt, Mercedes," he introduced us, gesturing casually with his hand, a wry smile on his face.

"Hello, Kurt." Her brilliant obsidian eyes were unreadable, but her smile was friendly. "It's nice to finally meet you. Blaine here’s told me so much about you."

Blaine flashed a dark look at her. “Please don’t embarrass me.”

"Hi, Mercedes," I said boldly holding out my hand, “It’s nice to meet you too. I’ve heard you’re Rachel’s only vocal competition.”

"I’d out her in any duel in a human heartbeat! Only… I’m not supposed to bring so much attention to myself. And when I sing – people notice.” She turned to Blaine. “Are you ready?" she asked him.

His voice was aloof. "Nearly. I'll meet you at the car."She left without another word; her walk was so fluid, so sinuous that I felt a sharp pang of jealousy. I also felt sorry for her that she wasn’t able to share her vocal talent with the world. I couldn’t imagine not being able to sing especially with the amazingly wonderful countertenor voice I had.

"Should I say 'have fun,' or is that the wrong sentiment?" I asked, turning back to him.

"No, 'have fun' works as well as anything." He grinned.

"Have fun, then." I worked to sound wholehearted. Of course I didn't fool him.

"I'll try." He still grinned. "And you try to be safe, please."

"Safe in Forks — what a challenge."

"For you it is a challenge." His jaw hardened. "Promise."

"I promise to try to be safe," I recited. "I'll do the laundry tonight, a task wrought with danger."

"Don't fall in," he mocked.

"I'll do my best." He stood then, and I rose, too.

"I'll see you tomorrow," I sighed.

"It seems like a long time to you, doesn't it?" he mused.

I nodded glumly.

"I'll be there in the morning," he promised, smiling his crooked smile.

He reached across the table to touch my face, lightly brushing along my cheekbone again, briefly connecting our lips. Then he turned and walked away. I stared after him until he was gone.

I was sorely tempted to ditch the rest of the day, at the very least Gym, but a warning instinct stopped me. I knew that if I disappeared now, Finn and others would assume I was with Blaine. And Blaine was worried about the time we'd spent together publicly… if things went wrong. I refused to dwell on the last thought, concentrating instead on making things safer for him.

I intuitively knew — and sensed he did, too — that tomorrow would be pivotal. Our relationship couldn't continue to balance, as it did, on the point of a knife. We would fall off one edge or the other, depending entirely upon his decision, or his instincts. My decision was made, made before I'd ever consciously chosen, and I was committed to seeing it through.
Because there was nothing more terrifying to me, more excruciating, than the thought of turning away from him. It was an impossibility.

I went to class, feeling dutiful. We watched the remaining of the video in Biology but my mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of tomorrow. In Gym, Finn changed his tune when wished me a good time over the weekend with Blaine. Rachel must’ve spoken to him. Again.

"Are you going to the dance with Cullen?" he asked, “Mom wants to know – she mentioned something about photos.”

"As exciting as that sounds, no, Blaine and I will not be attending the dance at all."

"What are you two doing, then?" he asked, a little too interested.

My natural urge was to tell him to butt out. Instead, I lied brightly. "Well I’ll be doing laundry, and then I have to study for the Trig test or I'm going to fail."

"And is Cullen going to come over and help you study?"

"Blaine," I emphasized, "is not going to help me study. We’re going away for the weekend." The lies came more naturally than usual, I noted with surprise.

"Oh." He perked up. "You know, you could come to the dance with our group anyway — that would be cool. Even if you’re two dudes going together." he promised.

"I'm not going to the dance, Finn, okay?" My tone was a little more frustrated than I had intended it to be.

"Fine." He sulked. "I was just offering. Rachel had this shrewd idea in her head that I could convince you otherwise. Just, if you are going to be spending the whole weekend with him, remember what I said. If Cullen so much as looks at you in a way that makes you feel uncomfortable, I want you to tell me. I’ve got your back, lil’ bro."

“Thanks, er, bro. You do realize I’m older than you, right?”

When the school day had finally ended, I walked to the parking lot without enthusiasm. I did not especially want to walk home, but I had forgotten to give Blaine my car keys out of my locker and couldn’t see how he would have retrieved my truck without them. Then again, I was starting to believe that nothing was impossible for him. I was surprised when I found the latter instinct proved correct — my truck sat in the same space he'd parked his Volvo in this morning. I shook my head, incredulous, as I opened the unlocked door and saw the key in the ignition.

There was a piece of white paper folded on my seat. I got in and closed the door before I unfolded it. Two words were written in his elegant script.

'Be safe'.

The sound of the truck roaring to life frightened me. I laughed at myself. I was so used to the quiet engine of the Volvo.

I called Rachel when I got home wishing her a good time at the dance. We talked a while before saying bye; she wished me a good time with Blaine too.

Burt was absentminded at dinner, worried over something at work, I guessed, or maybe a basketball game, or maybe he was just really enjoying the lasagna — it was hard to tell with Burt.

"You know, Dad…" I began, breaking into his reverie.

"What's that, kiddo?"

"The freezer is getting dangerously low on fish— we're down to a two, maybe three years' supply."

"You're sure easy to live with, Kurt." He smiled.

"I could say the same thing about you," I said, laughing.

After dinner, I folded clothes and moved another load through the dryer.

Unfortunately it was the kind of job that only keeps hands busy. My mind definitely had too much free time, and it was getting out of control. I fluctuated between anticipation so intense that it was very nearly pain, and an insidious fear that picked at my resolve. I had to keep reminding myself that I'd made my choice, and I wasn't going back on it. I pulled his note out of my pocket much more often than necessary to absorb the two small words he'd written. He wants me to be safe, I told myself again and again. I would just hold on to the faith that, in the end, that desire would win out over the others. And what was my other choice — to cut him out of my life? Intolerable. Besides, since I'd come to Forks, it really seemed like my life was about him.

But a tiny voice in the back of my mind worried, wondering if it would hurt very much… if it ended badly.

I was relieved when it was late enough to be acceptable for bedtime. I had my iPod on calmly shifting through a great selection of classic songs. I lay down, humming to the music as I briefly slipped into the world of sleep.

I woke early, having slept soundly and dreamlessly. Though I was well rested, and had plenty of time, I dressed in a rush, smoothing my collar against my neck, fidgeting with the tan sweater till it hung right over my jeans. I sneaked a swift look out the window to see that Burt was already gone. A thin, cottony layer of clouds veiled the sky. They didn't look very lasting. Looks like Rachel and I were right to be excited about today’s weather.

I ate breakfast without tasting the food, hurrying to clean up when I was done. I peeked out the window again, but nothing had changed. I had just finished brushing my teeth and was heading back downstairs when a quiet knock sent my heart thudding against my rib cage.

I flew to the door; I had a little trouble with the simple dead bolt, but I yanked the door open at last, and there he was. All the agitation dissolved as soon as I looked at his face, calm taking its place. I breathed a sigh of relief — yesterday's fears seemed very foolish with him here.

He wasn't smiling at first — his face was somber. But then his expression lightened as he looked me over, and he laughed.

"Good morning," he chuckled.

"What's wrong?" I glanced down to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything important, like shoes, or pants.

"We match." He laughed again. I realized he had a long, light tan sweater on, with a white collar showing underneath, and blue jeans. I laughed with him, hiding a secret twinge of regret — why did he have to look like a runway model when I couldn't?

I locked the door behind me while he walked to the truck. He waited by the passenger door with a martyred expression that was easy to understand.

"We made a deal," I reminded him smugly, climbing into the driver's seat, and reaching over to unlock his door.

"Where to?" I asked.

"Put your seat belt on — I'm nervous already." I gave him a dirty look as I complied.

"Where to?" I repeated with a sigh.

"Take the one-oh-one north," he ordered.

It was surprisingly difficult to concentrate on the road while feeling his gaze on my face. I compensated by driving more carefully than usual through the still-sleeping town.

"Were you planning to make it out of Forks before nightfall?"

"This truck is old enough to be your car's grandfather — have some respect," I retorted.

We were soon out of the town limits, despite his negativity. Thick underbrush and green-swathed trunks replaced the lawns and houses.

"Turn right on the one-ten," he instructed just as I was about to ask. I obeyed silently.

"Now we drive until the pavement ends." I could hear a smile in his voice, but I was too afraid of driving off the road and proving him right to look over and be sure.

"And what's there, at the pavement's end?" I wondered.

"A trail."

"We're hiking?" Thank goodness I'd worn my Chuck Taylors.

"Is that a problem?" He sounded as if he'd expected as much.

"No." I tried to make the lie sound confident. But if he thought my truck was slow…

"Don't worry, it's only five miles or so, and we're in no hurry."

Five miles. I didn't answer, so that he wouldn't hear my voice crack in panic. Five miles of treacherous roots and loose stones, trying to twist my ankles or otherwise incapacitate me. This was going to be humiliating.

We drove in silence for a while as I contemplated the coming horror.

"What are you thinking?" he asked impatiently after a few moments.

I lied again. "Just wondering where we're going."

"It's a place I like to go when the weather is nice." We both glanced out the windows at the thinning clouds after he spoke.

We were silent for the rest of the drive. When the road ended, constricting to a thin foot trail with a small wooden marker. I parked on the narrow shoulder and stepped out. I didn't have driving as an excuse not to look at him anymore. It was warm now, warmer than it had been in Forks since the day I'd arrived, almost muggy under the clouds. I pulled off my sweater and hung it over my shoulders, glad that I'd worn the light, sleeveless shirt — especially if I had five miles of hiking ahead of me. I was also getting used to not wearing layers so much anymore, a fact I was quite sad about.

I heard his door slam, and looked over to see that he'd removed his sweater, too. He was facing away from me, into the unbroken forest beside my truck.

"This way," he said, glancing over his shoulder at me, and holding out his hand for me take. He started into the dark forest.

"Um, Blaine? The trail?" Panic was clear in my voice.

"I said there was a trail at the end of the road, not that we were taking it."

"No trail?" I asked desperately.

"I won't let you get lost." He turned then, with a mocking smile, and I stifled a gasp as he briefly kissed me. His white shirt was sleeveless, and he wore it unbuttoned, so that the smooth white skin of his throat flowed uninterrupted over the marble contours of his chest, his perfect musculature no longer merely hinted at behind concealing clothes. He was too perfect, I realized with a piercing stab of despair. There was no way this boy could be meant for me.

He stared at me, bewildered by my tortured expression.

"Do you want to go home?" he said quietly, a different pain than mine saturating his voice.

"No." I said moving closer, anxious not to waste one second of whatever time I might have with him.

"What's wrong?" he asked his voice gentle.

"I'm not a good hiker," I answered dully. "You'll have to be very patient."

"I can be patient — if I make a great effort." He smiled, holding my glance, trying to lift me out of my sudden, unexplained dejection.

I tried to smile back, but the smile was unconvincing. He scrutinized my face.

"I'll take you home," he promised. I couldn't tell if the promise was unconditional, or restricted to an immediate departure. I knew he thought it was fear that upset me, and I was grateful again that I was the one person whose mind he couldn't hear.

"If you want me to hack five miles through the jungle before sundown, you’d better start leading the way," I said acidly. He frowned at me, struggling to understand my tone and expression.

He gave up after a moment and led the way into the forest.

It wasn't as hard as I had feared. The way was mostly flat, and he held the damp ferns and webs of moss aside for me. When his straight path took us over fallen trees or boulders, he would help me, lifting me by the elbow, and then releasing me instantly when I was clear. His cold touch on my skin never failed to make my heart thud erratically. Twice, when that happened, I caught a look on his face that made me sure he could somehow hear it.

I tried to keep my eyes away from his perfection as much as possible, but I slipped often. Each time, his beauty pierced me through with sadness.
For the most part, we walked in silence. Occasionally he would ask a random question that he hadn't gotten to in the past two days of interrogation. He asked about my birthdays, my grade school teachers, my childhood pets — and I had to admit that after killing three fish in a row, I'd given up on the whole institution. He laughed at that, louder than I was used to, our echoes bouncing back to us from the empty woods.

After several hours, the light that filtered through the canopy transformed, the murky olive tone shifting to a brighter jade. The day had turned sunny, just as he'd foretold. For the first time since we’d entered the woods, I felt a thrill of excitement — which quickly turned to impatience.

"Are we there yet?" I teased, pretending to scowl.

"Nearly." He smiled at the change in my mood. "Do you see the brightness ahead?"

I could definitely see a lightening in the trees ahead, a glow that was yellow instead of green. I picked up the pace, my eagerness growing with every step. He let me lead now, following noiselessly.

I reached the edge of the pool of light and stepped through the last fringe of ferns into the loveliest place I had ever seen. The meadow was small, perfectly round, and filled with wildflowers — violet, yellow, and soft white. Somewhere nearby, I could hear the bubbling music of a stream. The sun was directly overhead, filling the circle with a haze of buttery sunshine. I walked slowly, awestruck, through the soft grass, swaying flowers, and warm, gilded air. I halfway turned, wanting to share this with him, but he wasn't behind me where I thought he'd be. I spun around, searching for him with sudden alarm. Finally I spotted him, still under the dense shade of the canopy at the edge of the hollow, watching me with cautious eyes. Only then did I remember what the beauty of the meadow had driven from my mind — the enigma of Blaine and the sun, which he’d promised to illustrate for me today.

I took a step back toward him, my eyes alight with curiosity. His eyes were wary, reluctant. I smiled encouragingly and beckoned to him with my hand, taking another step back to him. He held up a hand in warning, and I hesitated, rocking back onto my heels.

Blaine seemed to take a deep breath, and then he stepped out into the bright glow of the midday sun.