Troubled, I woke in the middle of the night and couldn't sleep again for what seemed like a very long time. It wasn't hard to decipher the dream. A nightmare more like it, based on the fact that I was crushing on Blaine—hard, if I was being honest to myself—but I was even more petrified of being caught out about my feelings… or worse have my father discovering the truth about my sexuality. I wasn't quite ready to tell him just yet.

After that, Blaine was in my dreams nearly every night, but always on the side-lines, never quite within my reach.

To make things even tougher to deal with, when I returned to school I found myself the center of Brittany Crowley's attention. She was making everything impossible, following me around, obsessed with making amends to me somehow. I tried to convince her that what I wanted more than anything else was for her to forget all about it—especially because nothing had actually happened to me—but her IQ was so low I'd have better luck talking to a stuffed llama. She even began sitting at our lunch table. Finn and Mike were friendly to her so I'd have no luck in her short term appearance. (I had some hope however, in the fact that their friendliness would be short-lived though with the way Rachel and Tina reacted to the boy's attention to her).

No one seemed concerned about Blaine, though I explained over and over that he was the hero—how he had pulled me out of the way and had nearly been crushed, too. I tried to be convincing, acting the Lois Lane part to the Superman character. Rachel, Finn, Mike, Tina, and everyone else always commented that they hadn't even seen him till the van was pulled away.

I wondered to myself why no one else had seen him standing so far away, before he was suddenly, impossibly saving my life. With chagrin, I realized the probable cause—no one else seemed to care nearly as much about Blaine as I was (dangerously allowing) myself to care. No one was as aware of him as I was.

The Cullens and the Hales continued to sit at their same table as always, not eating, talking only amongst themselves. None of them, especially Blaine, glanced my way anymore.

When he sat next to me in class, he totally ignored me. It was as if he was purposely neglecting the fact that I was even sitting next to him. Only when his fists would ball up in anger every so often did I wonder if he was quite as oblivious as he appeared. It left me thinking—was Blaine starting to wish he had never saved my life?

I really wanted to talk to him, and further to my frustration, I had been trying to since the day after the accident. The last time I'd seen him, outside the ER, we'd both been so furious. I was still angry that he wouldn't trust me with the truth, even though I had flawlessly kept my side of the bargain and not called him out to anyone. But at the end of the day, he had saved my life, no matter how he'd done it. And, overnight, the heat of my anger, although ever present, was fading into gratitude.

He was already seated when I got to Biology, looking straight ahead. I sat down, expecting him to turn away. He showed no sign that he realized I was there.

"Hello, Blaine," I offered diplomatically, to show him that I was the better man, that I was entirely indifferent to the whole situation.

He turned his head ever so slightly in my direction and nodded the slightest fraction before looking away again.

That was the last contact I'd had with him in days. It made me miserable and despite my downright lies Burt could tell something was up. He even cut back the usual amount of time he spent with Carole in an attempt to spend more time with me. I tried to encourage him to get out of the house, blame my mood on the weather but parents are funny like that—he just knew. I was secretly glad to have his company but I didn't want him to stop seeing Carole on my account. It was the first time I'd seen him happy since… well, since the first time we had learnt Mom was sick.

Rachel, at least, was pleased by the lack of interest that Blaine had for me. She thought we were even closer for it and completely ignored Blaine as he ignored us. She was glad to see the snow coming to an end meaning the beach proposal might soon be possible. The rain continued heavily, though, and the weeks passed. She reminded me of another event I should prepare myself for—she called one night to see what I thought of her asking Finn to the girls' choice spring dance in two weeks.

"As he is your boyfriend, I would assume he is obligated to say yes. Are you two still going out?" I didn't see why else she would be asking me what I thought.

"As far as I'm aware," Rachel said a little sadly, "But I have reason to believe that Brittany has motivation to ask him and I'm scared he won't turn her down. I was sort of hoping you'd get Brittany to ask you."

Dancing—intimately with girls at the very least—was outside my range of abilities. "No, Rachel, I'm not going," I said flatly.

"It will be fun." Her attempt to convince me didn't sound genuine so a little BFF encouragement was in due order. "Finn will go with you," I assured her, "Don't worry about Brittany. I'm sure she'll find some other poor soul."

The next day, I was surprised that Rachel wasn't her usual Hermione Granger-ish self in either Trig or Spanish. She was silent as she walked by my side between classes, and I was afraid to ask her why. If Finn had turned her down for Brittany, it would only see fit that I would be the one responsible slapping him the right way up and I was in no mood to bitch slap anyone.

My fears were strengthened during lunch when Rachel sat as far from Finn as possible, chatting animatedly with Mike and Tina instead. Finn was unusually quiet.

He was still silent as he walked with me to our next class, the uncomfortable look on his face a bad sign. But he didn't broach the subject until I was in my seat and he was perched on my desk. As always, I was electrically aware of Blaine sitting close enough to touch, though as distant as if he were merely an imaginary being.

"So," Finn said, doodling all over his note book, "Rachel asked me to the spring dance."

"That's great!" I made my voice high-pitched and excited, "I would have thought as much seeing as you two are an item!"

"Well…" he sorta stumbled, "I might have told her that I had to think about it."

"Really! Finn?" I let my disapproval color my tone, though I was relieved he hadn't rejected the idea of going with her altogether. "Sorry to be Cap'N Obvious here but Rachel is your girlfriend!"

There was certain sadness in his eyes as he looked down again. I felt sorry for him. He had been going out with Rachel since freshman year and as far as I had learned although he had liked her of course he had been pressured into the relationship. Was it really my place to judge if he wanted to try something new? Even if he was going about it in the wrong way…

"I was wondering if… well, if you might talk Brittany into asking me."

I paused for a moment; the shock of having Rachel's suspicions come to light overwhelmed me in that instant and I had to stop.

"Finn, I think you should go with Rachel," I said honestly. He was a good guy; he deserved a girl with brains and he would later regret not going with Rachel. He mightn't show it but in his own way he was crazy about her.

"Has Brittany already asked you?" Finn asked pointedly.

"No," I assured him, "I just feel like you're going to end up hating yourself if you hurt Rachel. And I'm not going to the dance at all."

"Why not?" Finn demanded.

I didn't want to get into the awkwardness I felt about female intimacy, so I quickly made new plans.

"I won't be in town, I have to go to Seattle that Saturday," I explained. It was the perfect excuse. I was itching to get out of Forks for a while and it seemed the perfect time to go. "Finn?" I added tentatively knowing that I was opening a can of worms, "Why isn't it that you don't want to go with Rachel?"

He fumbled around with the pen in his hand and eventually tossed the scrap doodle he had been working on. "It's not that I don't want to go with her. I'm just scared. We do everything together. And if we don't work out I would have wasted all this time not getting to know anyone else."

"Are you at all worried that you and Rachel won't work out?"

"No… But girls like that? I don't know what she sees in me. It's only a matter of time before she realizes she can do better."

I honestly felt like face-palming. "Do yourself a favor, Finn and make no haste to cancel the pity party you're throwing for yourself. If you don't realize how crazy she is about you than you don't deserve to be with her! And you shouldn't be making her wait any longer—it's rude."

Though I hadn't physically raised a hand to him, my verbal slapping seemed to have had an effect. Finn flushed red with embarrassment. "Y-you're right…" he finally agreed. He walked back to his seat. I closed my eyes and pressed my fingers to my temples. Of course I was.

When I opened my eyes again, Blaine was staring at me. Mr. Banner had started talking so I began taking notes but when I glanced back at him, he was still staring, eyes dark with curiosity. This time I couldn't look away. My hands started to shake.

"Mr. Cullen?" the teacher called, seeking the answer to a question I hadn't heard.

"The Krebs Cycle," Blaine answered, confidently, as though to prove that he needn't even have to listen to the question to get it right. But I quickly shook my head. No one could possibly be that smart.

I looked down at my science book trying desperately to flush out the wave of emotion pulsing through me—just because he'd happened to look at me for the first time in a half-dozen weeks. (Five weeks, four days, seven hours and thirty-two minutes to be exact, but who was counting?) I couldn't allow him to have this level of influence over me. It was pathetic. More than pathetic, it was unhealthy. I'd crushed on guys naturally before Blaine. But none had ever been as intense as this.

I tried very hard not to be aware of him for the rest of the hour, and since that was impossible, at least not to let him know that I was aware of him. When the bell finally rang, I made sure my back was to him as I gathered my stuff to leave, sure that he would have bolted out the door by now anyway.

"Kurt?" His musical voice greeted me. It was wrong how familiar it sounded. I felt as if I knew the sound my whole life rather than a few short weeks.

I didn't want to look at him. I didn't want to feel what I knew I would feel when I looked at his too-perfect face. He didn't say anything. I sighed. "What? You've now decided to speak to me again, is that it?" There had been an unintentional note of petulance in my voice.

"No, not really," he admitted, coyly. I made to leave but my legs would not move. Closing my eyes I finally spoke, "Then what do you want, Blaine?" With my eyes closed, it was easier to remain coherent.

"I'm sorry," he apologized sincerely, "I know how rude you must think I am but it's better this way."

I opened my eyes but my voice remained guarded, "I don't know what you mean."

"It's just better if we're not friends," he explained.

My eyes narrowed. "It's too bad you didn't figure that out earlier! You could have saved yourself all this regret!"

He looked confused. The word, and my tone, seemed to throw him off, "Regret? Regret for what?"

"For not letting Brittany's stupid van crush me."

He eyes widened. He stared at me in disbelief. When he finally spoke, he almost sounded mad, "You think I regret saving your life?"

"I know you do!" I snapped. I also knew I was being a total diva but Blaine had earned that.

"You—you don't know anything!" He was definitely mad.

I had to clench my jaw shut with all the wild accusations I felt like throwing at him just then. I gathered my books and swept out of the room dramatically only to collide with the door and drop all my things. With what dignity I could muster, I bent low to pick them up and he was already there, my books stacked in a neat pile.

"Thank you," I said icily.

"You're welcome," he retorted.

I straightened up again swiftly, and stalked off without looking back.

When school finally ended, I almost ran to my truck; there were just so many people I wanted to avoid. Luckily, my truck hadn't suffered much damage in the accident. Anything that needed fixing could be arranged by Burt. Brittany's parents on the other hand had sold their van to Burt for parts.

I almost fainted when I saw Mike Yorkie leaning up against the side of my truck. "For all that is in Coco's name Mike, don't scare me like that!"

"Sorry…" he mumbled, "I kinda needed to ask a favor and you seemed in such a hurry to leave today, I didn't want to miss you."

That's why people tend to leave in hurries, Mike. I thought. And the more I thought, the only time this boy ever spoke to me was when he needed a favor.

"What's up?" I asked, paying no attention whatsoever, as I fumbled for the keys to unlock my truck. That would probably explain why his next question caught me by surprise.

"I was wondering if… well, if you could talk Brittany into asking me to the Girl's Choice Dance."

WHY was this sounding like d�j� vu? "What?" I asked more out of surprise than anything else.

"She hasn't already asked you, has she?"

"No," I shook my head. "I'm not going to be in town. Why hasn't Tina asked you?"

"Tina?" Mike asked, as though the thought had only registered his mind. And to think Clueless had starred Alicia Silverstone. It should have been a two star role for Finn Newton and Mike Yorkie.

I guess it didn't take much to be a relationship counselor for the boys at Forks' High. "Yes, Mike, Tina. Doesn't she sorta have a thing for you?"

"Well, yeah," he admitted. And this year's Vanity Award goes to…

I broke from my thought and tried to appear—warm. "I think then maybe you should wait for her to ask you."

"Oh," he said. "Maybe you're right."

This time I didn't hesitate to admit it out loud. "Of course I'm right."

Mike looked at me strangely but started to slouch back to the school, "Thanks, Kurt!" he waved.

I hopped into my truck and got ready to leave but there appeared to be some sort of traffic jam up front and from what I could see, Brittany's newly acquired two-door car was causing the hold up; it was parked right up front on an angle that allowed minimal space for anyone to leave the school comfortably. I groaned.

To my right, I heard a low chuckle. Blaine Cullen was right in front of me, laughing to himself. I was sincerely considering denting his Volvo, but didn't fancy having his car at Burt's garage and leaving him with an excuse to talk to my dad.

A line was beginning to form. Where the hell was Brittany? Someone should seriously consider towing her car. (That or they really needed traffic police at schools)! While I was sitting there, looking everywhere but at the stupid shiny Volvo in front of me, I heard a knock on my passenger side window. I looked over; it was Brittany. It was then that I noticed that her car wasn't parked at all; she had left it still running, key in ignition. I pulled down the window.

"What are you doing, Brittany? Your car is blocking all traffic! Get back there and move it!"

She didn't seem to notice the urgency or anger in my tone. "Oh I know! But I couldn't park anywhere else without forgetting where I'd put it—again."

Seriously. How in the world had this girl passed her driver ed.? "Well, the whole school seems to know where you've parked now!"

"Yeah, I guess that's why they're honking. Look, I was wondering if I could ask you something?"

Oh no… This could not be happening.

"Will you come with me to the spring dance?" she continued.

"I can't, Brittany." My voice was a little sharp. I had to remind myself that it wasn't her fault Finn and Mike and Blaine had already used up my quota of patience for the day.

"But it's girl's choice. And I choose you…"

"I'm really sorry, Brittany, but I won't be in town."

"Yeah… Finn said that."

"Then why—"

She shrugged, "I thought you had only said that to let him down because it's a girl's choice dance."

Okay, it was completely her fault.

"Sorry, Brittany, but like I said, I won't be here. I'm going to Seattle that weekend."

"That's cool. We still have prom."

And before I could respond, she was walking back to her car. I could feel the shock on my face. I looked forward to see Mercedes, Quinn, Puck and Sam all sliding into the Volvo. In his rearview mirror, Blaine's eyes were on me. He was unquestionably shaking with laughter, as if he'd heard every word Brittany had said.

A voice in my head reminded me that one little bump would hardly hurt his car… maybe damage the paint a little… I revved the engine.

But Blaine had already sped off.

When I got home, I decided to make vegetarian lasagna. It was a time-consuming dish but I needed something that would keep me busy. While I was mixing the spinach and ricotta, the phone rang. I was afraid to answer it but it was either Burt or at the risk of sounding too dramatic, an emergency.

It was Rachel, and she was jubilant; Finn had caught her after school to tell her he'd accepted her invitation, that there was no other choice, and he was sorry he ever made her wait. I celebrated briefly with her while preheating the oven. She had to go; she wanted to call Tina and Lauren to tell them. I suggested—with casual innocence—that maybe Tina should ask Mike. And then I quickly called Lauren, a rather big but incredibly nice girl with an uncommon passion for wrestling, for a favor and asked that she point a respectable suitor in Brittany's favor to avoid the hassle of her asking me again (I wouldn't put it past Brittany to forget she already had) and to distract her from asking me to prom in her wake. Lauren was only too happy to oblige since I had promised to help find her for a dress for the spring dance.

I tried to distract myself with the thought that Rachel had actually sounded sincere when she said she wished I could come to the dance, but then reminded myself that was only because she was now certain of Finn's interest in her… and then my head began spinning, analyzing all Blaine had told me today. What did he mean, it was better if we weren't friends?