I walked into the cafeteria with Rachel feeling cheated that all I had to distract me from Blaine's absence was her idle chatter but I should have been grateful when even that was taken from me as her boyfriend Finn rudely interrupted us. I thought she would have said something—owing to the fact that he had interrupted her—but she seemed to lavish his attention.

I was terribly uncomfortable at the lunch table. I noticed across the room that all of Blaine's siblings were here except for him. It was hard, after that, to avoid diverting my focus from them. Especially when Rachel was still clearly entranced by Finn, and Mike Yorkie and Tina Weber were getting inappropriately cozy. I'd stare across the room in the hope that Blaine would eventually turn up and join his siblings… but a conscious nagging suspicion kept eating its way into every tunnel of my brain.

I told myself to stop being so egotistical—that I wasn't the reason he wasn't here today. It was impossible to affect anyone that strongly. And yet I couldn't stop worrying that it was true. I'd hand over my entire Gaga shoe collection if there were any chance my suspicions were wrong about Blaine and that he'd be in Biology class at the end of lunch period.

He wasn't.

When the school day was finally done, and I had successfully managed to avoid anyone who could possibly find a reason to talk to me, I made my way to the parking lot. I sorted through the glove box till I found what I was looking for.

I'd never been too much of a fan of Burt's cooking. He'd try and prepare something new every now and again but eventually flake out voluntarily because of my culinary expertise. So once I'd located my grocery list, I was off to the Thriftway.

I took notice of the two Cullens and the Hale twins as my truck lay in school traffic. They were getting into their car—the shiny new Volvo, I should've known. I was surprised to see that while Mercedes had dressed best yesterday, all their clothes screamed designer origin. But with their looks, they could have worn potato sacks and pulled it off.

The Thriftway was not far from the school, just a few streets south off the highway. It was nice to be in the supermarket; I had a feeling this was the most regular shopping experience I'd have while in Forks. It was also familiar. Though Burt always insisted he come, I'd done our shopping on my own in Lima too.

Our pantry was empty so when I arrived home it was almost too easy to put everything away. With the rain came the cold so I decided a soup would be most ideal for tonight. It was an easy French recipe I had learned out of one of the several cooking books I owned.

"Kurt?" my father called out, as the smell wavered through to the front door when he arrived that night.

"Hey, Dad. How was work?"

"It was great. People here in Forks might not be used to my services but they're still keen as ever to have me tinkering with their cars." He hung up his hat and jacket and washed his hands at the sink. When I was younger he used to get me to 'help' him tinker with his cars but after realizing that all I would ever be comfortable doing was to stand far back and watch while flipping through mom's gossip magazines, he'd stop asking me to come.

"What's for dinner?" he asked standing close behind me to smell the cooking better. He hadn't seemed to notice I was wearing mom's apron yet. Or maybe he had and it was just one of those things he chose to overlook with me because it was easier to.

"Citrouille Soupe de Haricot Noire la Martinique."

He took a while to respond. "So—that's some kind of soup, right?" He was clearly no expert of the French language. I raised an eyebrow at him. He shrugged his shoulders as if to say it didn't matter. "Well, whatever it is, it smells delicious. Even if it's made out of fish heads and egg shells."

I paused the stirring to give him a look that clearly meant I thought he was derailing a bit. "Relax," I said, though a smile made its way across my face, "It's pumpkin and black bean soup. A recipe from my favorite French culinary expert, Martinique."

Burt offered a small smile back and patted my shoulder gently before casually sliding into the TV room while I continued cooking. Fifteen minutes later, I heard him setting the table and we sat down to eat in silence. It wasn't awkward. I did the talking most nights (or in general, period) but I was quiet tonight which Burt knew meant he'd have to start the conversation.

"So, how was school? Have you made any friends?" He was already helping himself to seconds.

"Well, I have a few classes with a girl named Rachel. I sit with her friends at lunch. And there's this boy, Finn, who's very friendly. Everybody seems pretty nice." With one outstanding exception.

"That must be Finn Newton. It'd do you some good being his friend; he lost a parent young too. His mom now owns the sporting goods store just outside of town. She seems really nice." He paused for a moment and shook his head with a smile. "Carole makes a good living for the two of them off all the backpackers that come through here. She cares a lot about her son."

"You seem to know a bit about her," I hinted cheekily, though I wasn't pushing any boundaries, I knew where the line was with Burt. After a moment's hesitation I asked, "You wouldn't happen to know anything about… the Cullen family?"

"Wait, Dr. Cullen's family? Sure I do. He works at Forks Hospital, treated Artie after his accident. Dr. Cullen's a great man. He could choose to work in any hospital in the world, make ten times the salary he makes here. Everyone's after a surgeon like that."

"His kids… they seem a little different."

Burt surprised me when he suddenly stopped eating. The look on his face was one of concern. "Different, how?"

I brushed it away, "They seemed nice enough to me. It's just they kept to themselves. They're also all… attractive."

Burt laughed, taking the bowl to his mouth to finish his soup, "You should see the doctor! It's a good thing he's happily married. A lot of the nurses at the hospital have a hard time concentrating on their work when he's around."

We fell back into silence as we both finished eating. Burt cleared the table while I started on the dishes. He went back to the TV and after I had finished up I decided to join him.

"No homework tonight, kiddo?" he asked, eyes never moving from the TV set.

"No," I answered, "Lucky me, huh? Does that mean we get to watch Dancing with the Stars tonight?"

"You can! I might miss it though." He paused for a second, eyes slowly falling from the TV but they moved to his palms; he still, for some reason, couldn't quite meet my eye. "I may not have acknowledged it but I picked up your cheek at dinner tonight. I do know quite a bit about Carole Newton." His voice became a whisper, "And… I'd like to know more."

Oh. Was he asking me permission? He certainly didn't need to. "Dad… Dad, that's great!" I smiled, hoping I looked genuine because it was only two days ago that I feared he might never get over mom. "You don't need my consent to date again!"

"Good," Burt nodded, "Because I was planning to see her tonight." He was already getting up from the couch.

"You're moving fast aren't you?" I winked but he tussled my hair, (knowing that I'd hate it), and reached for his jacket from the coat stand. "Do me a favor, Kurt. Record that dancing program you like so much. I voted last night and I want to make sure Kate doesn't get sent home."

~.~

The rest of the week was uneventful. I got used to the routine of my classes and not having to pack extra clothes in my back in fear of being slushied. By Friday I was able to recognize, if not name almost all the students at school. Rachel had learned of my countertenor talents and suggested we have a diva-off in the school cafeteria when I pushed her buttons by telling her I could outdo her in a performance of Wicked's "Defying Gravity."

But even that wasn't enough to distract me from the fact that Blaine Cullen hadn't come back to school.

Every day, I watched anxiously until the rest of the Cullens entered the cafeteria without him. I was seriously contemplating going up to one of them, most likely Mercedes as she still by far looked the friendliest, and ask them how Blaine was doing. But like a coward, I sat with Rachel and tried to partake in her and her friend's conversations. They mostly revolved around a trip to the La Push Ocean Park in two weeks that Finn was organizing. I was invited, and I had agreed to go, more because of the fact that I had promised Burt I would make every attempt to get along with Finn as he continued to visit Carole almost every night.

By Friday I was perfectly comfortable entering my Biology class, no longer worried that Blaine would be there. For all I knew, he had dropped out of school. I tried not to think about him, but I couldn't totally suppress the worry that I was responsible for his continued absence, ridiculous as it seemed.

My first weekend in Forks passed without incident. Burt, who was usually home on weekends, spent most of that time at work in the shop instead. I had the house to myself and used the opportunity to clean and get a head start in my homework after which followed a Julie Andrews marathon.

Monday morning was incredibly cold but at least it wasn't raining. In English, Finn took his accustomed seat by my side. We talked about our parent's recent late night rendezvous and joked about how we could be brother's one day. All in all, I was feeling a lot more comfortable than I had thought I would feel by this point. More comfortable than I had expected to feel here.

When we walked out of class, we were encompassed by whisper white flakes of undeniable snow. I could hear people shouting excitedly to each other. "Wow, it's snowing!" Finn stated claiming the obvious. "Does it snow where you're from?"

"You mean in Ohio?"

"Oh. Right. I forgot you moved from interstate. Sorry dude, you come across to me like you're an exchange student from France."

This surprised me. Here I was trying to fly under the radar and ever oblivious Finn looked like he was figuring me out already. Like I did with most uncomfortable situations, I brushed away the notion. "Finn, you do realize it snows in France too?"

"Sure I knew. I just forgot."

I laughed. And then a big, squishy ball of dripping snow smacked into the back of Finn's head. I had my bets on Mike Yorkie, who was running haphazardly towards the wrong direction of his next class. Finn had the same idea. He slowly began compiling a pile of white mush.

"I'll see you at lunch, okay?" I kept walking as I spoke. "Once things turn into mode snow ball fight I take stage exit left."

He just nodded, his eyes on Mike's retreating figure.

Throughout the morning, everyone chattered excitedly about the snow; apparently it was the first snowfall of the new year. I kept my mouth shut. Sure, it was drier than rain—until it melted all over your Valentino raincoat.

I walked into the cafeteria with Rachel, arguing a fine debate that I could indeed hit a high F all the while using her overly accessorized purple binder as a shield from the continuing snow ball fights. Rachel thought I was hilarious but something about my expression kept her from throwing a snowball at me herself.

Finn caught up to us as we walked in the doors, laughing with ice melting in his hair. He and Rachel were talking animatedly about the snow fight as we got into line to buy food. I glanced toward the Cullen's table out of habit more than anything. And then I froze where I stood. There were five people at the table.

Rachel pulled on my arm. "Hello? Kurt? What do you want?"

I looked down. I could feel my legs starting to shake. I had no reason to feel self-conscious, I reminded myself. I hadn't done anything wrong.

"What's with Kurt?" Finn asked Rachel.

"Nothing," I quickly answered, "I'll just get my latte to go." I caught up to the end of the line.

"Aren't you hungry?" Rachel asked.

"Actually, I feel a little sick," I said, my eyes still on the floor. I waited for them to get their food, and then followed them to a table, my eyes on my feet.

I took sips of my coffee slowly, my stomach churning. Twice Finn asked, with unnecessary concern, how I was feeling. I told him it was nothing but was seriously contemplating playing it up and skipping class to visit the school nurse. But that was ridiculous. I shouldn't have to run away.

I decided to allow myself one glance at the Cullen table. If he was glaring at me, I would skip Bio, like the coward I was.

I kept my head down and peeked at them from the corner of my eye, lifting my head just a little.

They were laughing. Blaine and Sam had their hair dripping entirely with snow and even Puck's stylish Mohawk looked a little less rigid. They were enjoying the snowy day, just like everyone else—only they looked more like a scene from a movie than the rest of us.

But I couldn't stop staring at Blaine. Aside from his more relaxed and playful composure he had magically conjured today, something else was different.

"Kurt, what are you staring at?" Rachel intruded, her eyes following my stare.

At that precise moment, his eyes flashed over to meet mine. I quickly dropped my gaze but I was sure that in the instant our eyes had met, that he hadn't look nearly as intimidating as the last time I'd seen him. He looked merely curious, in an unsatisfied sort of way.

"Oh my God!" Rachel said, nudging me harder than I think she intended to. "Blaine Cullen is staring at you." She giggled like I had the first time I had seen Patrick Swayze shirtless in Ghost.

"Does he look… angry at all?" I couldn't help asking.

"No," she said, scrunching her face in confusion, "Why would he be?"

"I don't think he likes me," I confided. I still felt queasy. I put my head down on my arm.

"The Cullens don't like anybody… well, they don't notice anybody enough to like them, as in my case. But, Blaine is still staring at you!"

"Can you please stop staring back?" I hissed.

She giggled again but dropped her gaze. I was considering contemplating violence if she had resisted.

Finn interrupted us then—he was planning an epic battle of the blizzard in the parking lot after school and wanted us to join. Rachel agreed enthusiastically even though she had mutually bitched with me about how "ew" snow was on the way into lunch. The way she looked at Finn suggested she'd be up for anything he recommended. I didn't confirm his proposal. I just wanted to hide in my truck until the entire school day was over.

I decided I would keep the word I made to myself and not look up at the Cullen's again since I had used my one allowance to already. Since Rachel had said he hadn't looked angry, I would go to Biology. My stomach did nervous little flips at the thought of sitting next to him again.

I didn't really want to walk with Finn to class as per usual routine—he seemed to be a popular target for snowball snipers—but lady luck was on my side as I heard everyone besides me groan in unison.

It had started raining, washing all traces of the snow away. I was secretly pleased. Finn kept up a string of complaints on the way to building four.

I reached the classroom a few minutes early and as a result my table was still empty. Mr. Banner was distributing one microscope and box of slides to each table. The class was already buzzing in conversation. I kept my eyes away from the door, doodling absentmindedly on the back of my notebook.

I heard very clearly when the chair next to me moved, but my eyes stayed carefully focused on the pattern I was drawing.

"Hello," said a quiet, musical voice.

I looked up, stunned that he was speaking to me. He was still sitting as far away from me as possible but his chair was angled towards me. His curly boyish hair was wet and disheveled but even so he looked like an Armani catalogue model. His dazzling face was friendly, open, a slight smile on his flawless lips. But his eyes were careful.

"My name is Blaine Cullen," he continued, "I didn't have a chance to introduce myself last week. You must be Kurt Hummel."

My mind was spinning with confusion. Had I made up the whole thing in my head? He was perfectly polite now. He was waiting for me to speak but everything I could come up with just sounded so unconventional.

"H-how do you know my previous surname?" I stammered.

He laughed; it was soft and enchanting like Prince Eric from Disney's The Little Mermaid. "I apologize," he said, "You prefer Swan?"

"It's not that. I don't have anything against my father's name. I just decided to take my mom's instead after she—." I stopped; I didn't know if I was ready to tell him that just yet.

"Okay." He let it drop. I looked away awkwardly. With very appropriate timing, Mr. Banner started class. I tried to concentrate as he explained the lab we would be doing today. The slides in the box were out of order. Working as lab partners, we had to separate the slides of onion root tip cells into the phases of mitosis they represented and label them accordingly. We weren't supposed to use our books. In twenty minutes, he would be coming around to see who had it right.

"Get started," he commanded.

"I find it only fair to let you start after my shameful introduction." Blaine offered the microscope towards me. I was so caught off by his smile I probably had him wondering if I was mentally competent.

"Or I could go if you wish." The smile faded and I quickly found my way back to reality.

"No," I said, embarrassed at how red I must look, "I'll go ahead."

I was showing off, just a little. I'd already down this lab, and I knew what I was looking for. This should be easy. My assessment was confident, "Prophase."

"Do you mind if I look?" he asked. As I began to remove the slide, his hand caught mine to stop me. His fingers were ice-cold, presumptuously from the snowball fight he'd been in previously. But that wasn't why I had recoiled so quickly. The moment we touched I'd felt as if an electric jolt had passed through our skin simultaneously.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, pulling his hand back immediately, but he continued to reach for the microscope. I watched him, slightly in awe of our connection, as he examined the slide for an even shorter period than I had.

He agreed with me and we went back and forth with the next slides. I tried to catch him out but he never made any mistakes, was always right with every analysis. I let him write down the answers taking note of his beautifully cursive handwriting fearing that despite my writing being clear and concise, it would still look too messy compared to his. I was also quick to note how careful he was not to touch my skin again.

We were finished before anyone else was even close. I could see Finn struggling back and forth between slides even though his partner was hiding their book under the table.

Finishing so early left me with nothing to do but try not to look at Blaine… unsuccessfully. I glanced up and he was staring right back at me. Suddenly, I noticed the delicate difference in his features.

"Did you get contacts?" I blurted out, without thinking.

"…No."

"Oh," I mumbled, "I thought there was something different about your eyes."

He shrugged, and looked away.

In fact, I was sure there was something different. Today his eyes were a warm honey color and last time they had appeared night sky black. I vividly remembered them being dark; they had outstandingly contrasted with his incredibly pale skin.

Why on Earth would he be lying about it? Maybe, Forks was driving me crazier than I had led myself to believe.

Mr. Banner came round to our table to see why we weren't working then took note of our answer sheet, making sure to confirm we had finished correctly. When he found there had been no errors made he was quick to assume that Blaine had completed the task on his own. But Blaine came to my defense, insisting—and rightfully so—that I had in fact done most of the work. I quickly added that I had taken an AP class back in Lima and Mr. Banner smiled saying it was a good thing we were lab partners.

He walked away, mumbling something else under his breath, and I began doodling on the back of my notebook again.

"So…" Blaine started and I got the impression he was trying to make small talk, "You should probably talk to the school office about getting your name changed. It's still Hummel all over the records."

"Is that how you came by my name? Snooping through the school records?"

He seemed fascinated by my questions, though I could not place why. I thought I made it obvious that I wanted the conversation dropped. Blaine continued, "I may have paid attention during role call the one time it slipped out by accident. You answered to the name so I only assumed it was yours and by my calculations only a recent change if you did not pick up on the error yourself."

I couldn't remember any of the teachers calling me Kurt Hummel though I didn't have any evidence that had not had happened. "It's definitely Swan. And I still answer to Hummel because that is still my name."

"Why did you change it, then?"

So maybe I hadn't been obvious when I had given the impression that I did not want to talk about this. "It's…complicated." I offered.

"I think I can keep up," he pressed. I paused for a long moment and then made the mistake of meeting his eyes. I was distracted by the color again and so I answered without thinking.

"My mother died and I felt it necessary to keep her name." I said.

"I'm so sorry to hear that," he said his head down, "But I can understand why you made that choice." His voice sounded sympathetic. "How long has she been gone?"

"Right before we moved to Forks." My voice sounded sad, even by my standard. This was not something I planned to talk about so soon.

"Forks must be a difficult place for you to live," he mused.

"You have no idea," I muttered darkly, though truthfully it wasn't all bad.

"Why didn't you stay there?"

I couldn't comprehend why he was so interested, but the way his eyes penetrated through me, as though my jaded life story was somehow important…

"It was my Dad's decision. He always planned for us to move to Forks."

"Your father forced you to move when she died." He said it as an assumption not a question. I had to admit it bugged me.

"I wasn't forced. Burt just couldn't bear being in Lima anymore without her. I could see how unhappy he was." I sighed. Why was I explaining this to him? He continued to gaze at me with curiosity.

"But now you're unhappy," he pointed out.

"And?" I challenged.

"It just doesn't seem very fair." He shrugged, but his eyes were intense.

I laughed without humor. "Hasn't anyone ever told you? Life isn't fair."

"Actually I believe I have heard that somewhere before…" he added somewhat sarcastically.

He was still looking at me, in that way, so I was obligated to say something, "So that's all, really."

He studied me intently, speaking slowly, "You put on a good show. But I'd be willing to bet that you're suffering more than you let anyone see."

Wait… what exactly did he think I was hiding? What was he trying to say? Could Rachel's gossip be true? Maybe Blaine did 'bat for the other team.' That would justify why he could throw around a comment like that. Assume something that secret about me when I had not even told Burt yet.

"Am I wrong?" he asked.

I tried to ignore him.

"I didn't think so," he murmured smugly.

"Why does it matter to you?" I asked, irritated. I locked my gaze to his as if daring him to clear the gossip Rachel was spreading.

"That's a very good question," he muttered, so quietly that I wondered if he was talking to himself. I waited for him to continue but eventually realized that was the only answer I was going to get. I sighed.

"Am I annoying you?" He asked. There was something about his tone that suggested he was slightly amused.

I looked at him, distracted once again by the mystery of his eyes which led me to speak again without thinking. "Not exactly. I'm more annoyed at myself. For you to say something like that just solidifies the reason my mom called me her open book." I finished my answer with a frown.

"On the contrary, I find you very difficult to read." Despite everything that I'd said and he'd guessed, he sounded genuine.

"You must usually read well then," I replied.

"Usually." He smiled widely, flashing a set of perfect, ultra-white teeth.

My thoughts were unmanageable through the rest of class. They kept creeping up on me taking control and I could not concentrate on anything else but the beautiful boy beside me who had been so intrigued by my tragic life. When the bell finally rang, Blaine rushed as swiftly and gracefully from the room as he had last Monday. And, like last Monday, I stared after him in amazement.

Finn made his way to join me as I gathered all my books. "Could that lesson have been any more difficult?" he whined. "Every slide looked exactly the same. Lucky you had Blaine as a partner."

"I didn't need him," I said, a little stung with Finn's assumption. "I wasn't having trouble identifying any of it." When Finn's feelings looked hurt, I realized I may have unconsciously come off a tad arrogant so I promptly added that I had done the class before. He was quick to seem nonchalant about the whole thing. "So, Blaine seemed friendly enough today." I wondered if his nonchalance had something to do with the fact that Carole was encouraging him to be friendly with me as much as Burt was encouraging me to be friendly with him.

I shrugged, slipping into my Valentino, "Wonder what was up with him Monday." I tried to sound blas� about the whole thing.

I offered Finn a lift home but Rachel was already driving him over to the store to help Carole, so I was alone when I reached my truck after school. I was still fazed by everything in Biology so when I pulled the vehicle into reverse I almost hit a rusty Toyota Corolla. Embarrassed, I turned my head in all directions to make sure there were no witnesses to my clumsiness but I was still all alone.

As I drove forward, with much more success this time, I noticed the silver Volvo. I didn't bother to look over and make idle chat but I could have sworn from peripheral vision that I had seen him laughing.