"Sure!" I smiled. Didn't I always? "In exchange can I have your permission to go to Seattle for the day a week from Saturday?"

"Why?" he asked suspiciously, as if were unable to imagine something that Forks couldn't offer.

"Well, I wanted to do a bit of shopping. You know, look at some nice clothes. There's a collection they're receiving that you just won't get here in Forks."

Thanks to Burt paying for my car, I had more money than I was used to even if most of it was going on gas.

"You're free to come with me if you want!"

Though any normal teenager would have been mortified of the prospect of inviting their father to go shopping with them, I happened to know Burt would immediately be put off with the thought of having to sit outside change rooms all day.

"Well, I'm not worried about you going on your own it's just that truck probably doesn't get very good gas mileage." Damn. I had worried about that too.

"I thought as much. It's okay. I'll stop in Montesano and Olympia – and Tacoma if I have to."

"And you're sure about going by yourself?"

"I'm not going to get lost, Dad."

"Well… okay."

"Okay? Really?" I said shocked, "I mean—thanks!"

But he looked strangely suspicious as a cheeky grin formed on his face, "So… will you be back in time for the spring dance?"

Grrr. Only in a town this small would a father know when the high school dances were.

"No—I don't… I don't really want to go." I had contemplated several lies in my head but none of them seemed very realistic so I decided the truth would have to suffice. My eyes were to the floor. Burt placed a hand on my shoulder. "It's not because it's a girl's choice dance, is it? Because these Fork's girls would be crazy not to ask you."

"No, I've been invited it's just…"

I'm gay.

"I have homework to do, Dad." I lied. I had finished it all yesterday. I hurried awkwardly off to my room anyway feeling his eyes on me the whole way.

~.~

Like most days, the weather was absolutely horrible the next morning. It was pouring down with rain. I drove slowly to school, not wanting to risk getting into an accident, making sure that when I arrived I was parked as far away from the silver Volvo as I could be. I didn't want to tempt myself and end up owing him a new car. As I hurried off to the main building, I saw Blaine standing nearby chatting uninterestedly with his siblings. I quickly looked away.

But when I turned my head again, he was standing right next to me. I jumped. "How do you do that?" I asked, half amazed, half irritated.

"Do what?"

"Appear out of thin air."

"Kurt, I happen to be a transfer student from Hogwarts, apparition is second nature to me." I raised an eyebrow. No way was I buying that. Even Brittany wasn't that gullible especially when Blaine had used so much sarcasm when he had said it.

"I thought you were supposed to be pretending I didn't exist, not irritating me to death. What is it that you want anyway?"

He seemed slightly jarred, "I'm not trying to pretend you don't exist."

"So then you are trying to irritate me to death? Since Brittany didn't manage to complete the job with her van?"

I seemed to have hit a nerve. The slight smile he had held on his face was gone. "Kurt, you are utterly absurd," he said, his low voice cold.

To my surprise I found my palms tingling and a strange sensation to hit something. The latter surprised me more as I was a nonviolent person. I shook my head, wondering why on earth I was bothering to give him the time of day and started to walk away.

"Wait!" he called. I kept walking, quickening my pace to try and avoid him, but the attempt was futile; he reached me within seconds. "I'm sorry, that was rude."

"Why won't you leave me alone?" I grumbled.

"I wanted to ask you something, but you sidetracked me." His tone seemed good natured again as though it had recovered from its iciness in a heartbeat and it left me curious.

"Have you been watching too much United State of Tara?" I asked, "Because it's almost as if you have Dissociative Identity Disorder."

"You're being absurd again."

I sighed. "Fine. What do you want?"

"I was wondering if, a week from Saturday—you know, the day of the spring dance—"

"Wait—" I interrupted, "Are you trying to be funny?" The rain drenched my skin as I looked up at his face.

His eyes were wickedly amused. "If you allowed me to finish, you'd realize I was actually just trying to offer you a ride to Seattle."

That was unexpected.

"What?" I wasn't so sure what he was getting at.

"Do you want a ride to Seattle?" he repeated.

"With you?" I asked, mystified.

"Obviously…" He said the word slowly as though he was afraid of having to repeat himself again.

I was still stunned. "Why?"

"Well, I have also been planning to head down to Seattle soon and quite frankly I don't think your truck can make it."

"My truck works just fine, thank you very much! And my Dad happens to know a thing or two about engines anyway, I'll be perfectly okay." I started to walk again but was too surprised with the proposal that I found myself unable to maintain the same level of anger.

"I doubt your truck will be able to make it there on one tank of gas," he commented matching my pace again.

"Yeah, well, I don't see how that's any of your business." Stupid, shiny Volvo owner.

"The wasting of finite resources is everyone's business."

Was he being serious? "Honestly, Blaine. I can't keep up with you. I thought you didn't want to be my friend."

"I said it would be better if we weren't friends, not that I didn't want to be."

"Oh, thanks, now that's just cleared everything up!" We were finally out of the rain, so I was able to gaze at his face clearly. Which didn't really help my clarity of thought.

"It would be more… prudent for you not to be my friend," he explained. "But I'm tired of trying to stay away from you, Kurt."

His eyes were so gloriously intense as he smolderingly delivered that last sentence. I had to remind myself to breathe.

"Will you go with me to Seattle?" he asked. He seemed confident. He had every right to be, I didn't have it in me to let him down. I nodded.

He smiled briefly, and then his face became more serious. "You really should stay away from me," he warned. "I'll see you in class."

He turned abruptly and walked back the way we'd come.

The rest of the morning passed in a blur. It was difficult to believe what Blaine had just said. Or maybe it had something to do with the way his eyes had looked. Maybe I'd just had a really confusing dream and was mixing it with reality. That seemed more likely than the idea that I appealed to him on any level.

So I was impatient, and even a little frightened, when Rachel and I entered the cafeteria. I wanted to see his face, to see if the cold, indifferent person I'd know for the last few weeks would be there. Or if, by some miracle, I'd heard correctly this morning. Rachel talked non-stop about her dance plans—Lauren and Tina were going too and had dates and the six of them would be going together—but was completely annoyed by my inattention.

"Kurt, what's the matter with you? You were so excited to talk about the dance last night!"

I was distracted—and with good reason. At their usual table, only four of the Cullens sat. Where was Blaine? Had he gone home? I hastily apologized to Rachel letting her carry on as I placed nothing but an apple and lemonade on my tray. I just wanted to sit down and sulk.

"Blaine Cullen is staring at you again," Rachel said with the smallest hint of cheekiness in her voice, "I wonder why he's sitting alone today."

My head snapped up. I followed her gaze to see Blaine smiling, staring at me from an empty table across the cafeteria from where he usually sat. Once he'd caught my eye, he raised one hand and motioned me to join him. I stared in disbelief.

Rachel was smiling with an 'I-knew-it!' expression all over her face. Since her own relationship with Finn was running smoothly she spent the time she usually invested worrying about him to spend on my—for lack of a better word—interests. "I think he means you," she said ending her sentence with a short giggle.

I was still staring at Blaine; the expression on my face must have alerted him to my confusion for he beckoned over at me again.

"Go!" Rachel ushered, positively on the edge of bursting into laughter.

"Yeah… I think I might… He probably needs help with his Biology homework." I offered, not wanting to bring light to the obvious fact that I might be interested in him, "I better go see what he wants."

It was her turn to wink at me as I walked away with my tray. When I reached his table, I stood behind the chair across from him, unsure.

"Did you want to sit here today?" he asked, smiling.

I sat down silently, watching him cautiously. I was very aware of the fact that his moods changed quicker than a bipolar cheetah and I would not, could not, risk myself falling into that trap. I couldn't bring myself to say anything.

"You weren't hungry today?" he started, noticing my half eaten apple and unopened lemonade.

"This is different…" I said voicing my thoughts out loud, completely sidetracking off his original question. He didn't seem to mind. "Well…" He paused, and then the rest of the words followed in a rush. "I decided as long as I was going to Hell, I might as well do it thoroughly."

There was an awkward pause in which I waited for him to clarify what he had just said or say something that would actually make sense. "You know I don't have any idea what you mean."

"I know," he nodded, and then he changed the topic, "Your friends seem happy that you're sitting with me."

"Rachel probably is," I agreed. I could predict a phone call from her the second school was out.

"Why do you look so worried?" he asked, his smile was still stretched out across his gorgeous face.

"I'm not," I said, and I knew it was true, "I'm just surprised… what brought all this on?"

"I told you—I got tired of trying to stay away from you. So I'm giving up." He was still smiling but his beautiful eyes were serious.

"Giving up?"

"Yes… I'm just going to do what I want now, and let the chips fall where they may." His smile faded as he explained, and a hard edge crept into his voice.

"Sorry, you've lost me again."

"I'm afraid I keep telling you much more than I should."

"Don't worry—I don't understand any of it," I said wryly.

"I'm counting on that."

"So, in plain English, are we friends now?"

"Friends…" he muttered as though the word was somehow foreign to him.

"Or not," I muttered.

He heard me. "Well, we can try, I suppose. But I'm warning you now that I'm not a good friend for you." Behind his smile, the warning was real.

"You keep telling me that. But you haven't given me any reason to feel like you'd be a bad friend."

He shrugged nonchalantly, "If you're smart, you'll avoid me."

"I think you've made your opinion on the subject of my intellect clear." My eyes narrowed. "So, as long as I'm being as smart as Brittany Crowley is, we'll try to be friends." I struggled to sum up the confusing exchange.

"Well your IQ wouldn't need to be that low, but something like that."

My hands wrapped around the lemonade bottle, unsure of what to do now.

"What are you thinking?" he asked curiously.

I looked up at his eyes, and as usual in my befuddlement, blurted out the truth.

"I'm trying to figure out what you are."

His jaw tightened, but he kept his smile in place with some effort. "Are you having any luck with that?" he asked in an offhand tone.

"Not too much," I admitted.

The news seemed to relax him a bit, "Well… do you have any theories?"

If I was being honest to myself I did. This last month I had been tossing up between Bruce Wayne and Peter Parker. But there was no way I was going to own up to my Marvel theories…

"I'm not telling you," I finally said, "It's way too embarrassing."

"That's really frustrating, you know," he complained.

"No," I disagreed, a little annoyed, "I can't imagine why that would be frustrating at all—just because someone refuses to tell you what they're thinking, even if all the while they're making cryptic little remarks specifically designed to keep you up at night wondering what they could possibly mean… now, why would that be frustrating?"

He grimaced.

"Or better," I continued, the annoyance I was feeling unleashed itself through my speech, "say that person also did a wide range of bizarre things—from saving your life under impossible circumstances one day to treating you like a ghost the next, and he never explained any of that, either, even after he promised. That, also, would be very non-frustrating."

"You've got a bit of a temper, don't you?"

"I don't like double standards."

We stared at each other, unsmiling. It seemed as if he was trying to figure me out but failing miserably. Good.

Blaine glanced over my shoulder and something he saw made him laugh.

"What?"

"Your boyfriend seems to be debating whether or not to break up our fight." He laughed again.

"Boyfriend? Who?"

I turned around quickly and noticed Finn standing at the table his fists clenched softly, while Rachel was patting his arm, whispering hurriedly to him.

"Finn?" I asked incredulously, "He's not my boyfriend! In fact, he's like a surrogate brother. Our parents just started dating. You, Blaine, are wrong."

"Well," he surmised, "People are usually easy to read."

"Except me."

"Yes. Except for you. I wonder why that is."

I quickly distracted myself from staring at him by taking a quick swig of my lemonade.

"You're not hungry." It was a statement, not a question.

"No, we've been over this. What about you, you're not hungry?"

He looked to be enjoying some sort of private joke, "No, I'm not hungry."

"Can you do me a favor?" I asked, almost hesitating, "The next time you decide to ignore me for my own good, can it come with a warning? Just so I can be prepared." I couldn't quite look at him as I spoke.

"That sounds fair." He was pressing his lips together to keep from laughing when I looked up.

"Thanks."

"Then can I have one answer in return." He demanded.

"One."

Tell me one theory."

Oh, hell no. "Not that one."

"I could ask why you took no offense with me suggesting you may have a boyfriend…"

Oh crap, did this mean I had to tell him now when he had something like that hanging over me? "But you'll laugh at me! Although… I suppose I should be used to being laughed at."

"So you'll tell me then?"

"Um…" I started dazed. Was Blaine a hypnotist too? Or was I just a hopeless pushover? "Bitten by a radioactive spider?"

"That's not very creative."

I shrugged, "That's all I got."

"You're not even close," he teased.

"No spiders?"

"Nope."

"And no radioactivity?"

"None."

"I'm out." I sighed, trying to come across disappointed.

"Kryptonite doesn't bother me either," he chuckled.

"This is why I didn't want to tell you!" I flushed, embarrassed.

He struggled to compose his face.

"I'll figure it out eventually," I warned him.

"I really wish you wouldn't try." He was serious again.

"And I shouldn't try, because…?"

"What if I'm not the superhero? What if I'm the bad guy?"

Well, Blaine, that would be sexy too. But I sure as hell was not going to say that. "So you're dangerous?" As I said it out loud it suddenly dawned on me. He was dangerous. He'd been trying to tell me that all along.

He couldn't bring himself to answer. He looked sad, almost. His eyes were full of an emotion I couldn't quite comprehend.

"But not bad," I whispered, shaking my head. "No, I don't believe that you're bad."

"You're wrong." His voice was almost inaudible. I should be afraid. He meant what he was saying—maybe sexy bad Blaine was just far by too interesting to me. He had me fascinated, the same way I felt when I was near him. The silence lasted until I noticed the cafeteria was almost empty.

I jumped to my feet, "We're going to be late."

"I'm not going to class today," he said, his fingers wrapped around the lid of my lemonade bottle.

"Why not?"

"It's healthy to ditch class now and then." He seemed troubled.

"Well, I'm going," I was far too big a coward to risk getting caught and I happened to enjoy the freedom of being able to go to class without having to hide from old bullies. I turned back one last time to glance at him. The cap of my bottle was spinning like a top, so fast it was just a blur. He met my eye and waved. I continued to class.

As I half-ran to class, my head was spinning faster than the bottle cap. So few questions had been answered in comparison to how many new questions had been raised. At least the rain had stopped.

I was lucky; Mr. Banner wasn't in the room yet when I arrived. I settled quickly into my seat watching Finn and Tina approach me.

"Hey guys…" I said but both of them wore slightly surprised, slightly awed expressions on their faces.

"Dude," Finn mumbled, "I just want you to know that if Cullen tries anything, anything that makes you feel uncomfortable in the slightest, you have my back.

"Oh er… thanks, Finn."

"And," Tina interrupted, as Mr. Banner entered the room, "Rachel wants you to call her the second school's out."

I nodded as the class was called to order. Mr. Banner was juggling a few small cardboard boxes in his arms. He put them down on Finn's table, telling him to start passing them around the class.

"Okay so there a few pieces in each box that I need you to take. The first is an indicator card. The second is a four-pronged applicator—" He held up something that looked like a nearly toothless hair pick, "—and the third is a sterile micro-lancet." He held up a small piece of blue plastic and split it open. The barb was visible from the distance, but my stomach flipped. But surely that must have something to do with the fact that all I had for lunch was half a bottle of lemonade and two bites of an apple.

Mr. Banner wanted us to prick our fingers with the lancet, as he so calmly demonstrated on Finn, and put a small drop of blood on each of the prongs. I felt my stomach begin to heave.

"And then apply it to the card," he finished, holding up the dripping red card for us to see. I closed my eyes.

"The Red Cross is having a blood drive in Port Angeles next weekend, so I thought you should all know your blood type." He sounded proud of himself. "Those of you who aren't eighteen yet will need a parent's permission—I have slips at my desk."

He continued through the room with his water drops. I put my cheek against the black tabletop and tried to hold on to my consciousness. All around me I could hear squeals, complaints and giggles as my classmates skewed their fingers. I breathed slowly, trying to avoid the need to vomit.

"Kurt, are you all right?" Mr. Banner asked. His voice was close to my head, and it sounded alarmed.

"I already know my blood type, sir." I said in a weak voice. I was afraid to raise my head.

"Are you feeling faint?"

"Yes, Mr. Banner," I muttered. Thank God the Lima Football team was miles away; I could see the torture I'd have to endure if they found out. I wished I had ditched class with Blaine when I had the chance.

Mr. Banner organized for Finn to help me to the nurse and he gently towed me slowly across campus. When we were around the edge of the cafeteria, out of sight of Biology in case Mr. Banner was watching, I stopped.

"Can I sit for a moment?" I begged. "And whatever you do, keep your hand in your pocket!"

I was still so dizzy. I placed my cheek against the coolness of the sidewalk. I hated acting like such a girl. But it definitely had something to do with the fact that I hadn't eaten properly. I was sure of it.

"Wow, you're green, Kurt," Finn said nervously.

"Kurt?" A different voice called from the distance.

"What's wrong—is he hurt?" His voice was closer now, and he sounded upset. I wasn't imagining it. I was trying so very hard not to throw up.

Finn seemed stressed, "I think he fainted. I don't know what happened, he didn't even prick his finger."

"Kurt." Blaine's voice was right beside me, relieved now. "Can you hear me?"

"No," I groaned, "Go away."

He chuckled.

"I was taking him to the nurse," Finn explained in a defensive tone, "but he wouldn't go any farther."

"I'll take him," Blaine said. I could hear the smile still in his voice. "You can go back to class."

"No," Finn protested, "I can do it. Mr. Banner asked me to."

Suddenly the sidewalk disappeared from beneath me. My eyes flew open in shock. Blaine had scooped me up in his arms as easy as if I weighed nothing at all. I was slightly awed but mostly embarrassed. The scene would have almost been romantic had Finn not been standing there and had I not been desperately hoping that I would not vomit all over him.

"Put me down!" Blaine was walking before I had even finished the three little words.

"Hey!" Finn called, already ten paces behind us.

Blaine ignored him, "You look awful," he told me, grinning.

"Please put me down," I moaned, "This rocking movement is not helping." He held me away from his body, gingerly, supporting all my weight with just his arms—it didn't seem to bother him.

"So you faint at the sight of blood?" he asked, almost entertained. I was not going to give in to my embarrassment this easily.

"No! I just hadn't eaten well at lunch."

He mumbled to himself, completely disregarding my last statement, "…and not even his own blood."

I don't know how he opened the office door when he was carrying me, but it was suddenly warm, so I knew we were inside.

I heard the receptionist grasp.

"He's a little faint," Blaine explained, completely unperturbed by the gasps and staring. Blaine walked me into a nearby room and placed me gently on one of the small cots. "They were blood typing in Biology and—Kurt hadn't eaten much at lunch."

"Well there's your problem, right there!" the nurse agreed, "Who are you trying to impress by not eating?"

I sighed but didn't answer. This was totally embarrassing. On the plus side, the nausea was starting to fade.

"Does this happen a lot?" Mrs. Cope asked.

"No, not at all!" I lied quickly, and Blaine had to cough to hide his laugh. It was as if she had only noticed he was still there. "You can go back to class now, Mr. Cullen."

"I'm supposed to stay with him." He said this with such superiority that even if she didn't agree she dropped it altogether. She went to get ice for my forehead.

I turned to Blaine, "I can't believe I'm going to admit this but—you were actually right."

"I usually am—" he agreed, almost arrogantly but in the cute way, "but what about in particular this time?"

"Ditching is healthy."

"You scared me for a minute there," he admitted after a pause. His tone indicated he almost seemed embarrassed to admit it. "I thought Finn was dragging off your dead body to be buried in the woods."

"Really, Blaine?" I still had my eyes closed, but I was feeling better every minute.

"Honestly, I've seen paler people than me with better color than you today. I was concerned I might have to avenge your murder."

"Poor Finn. I bet he's mad."

"He can't stand me!" Blaine admitted happily.

My auto-almost-brother-defenses started kicking in, "Finn's a really nice non-judgmental guy. You can't possibly know that."

Or could he?

I heard the door open and the nurse had returned with an ice pack. She laid it across my forehead. "You're looking better, dear!"

"I feel better," I said, sitting up. She would have made me lie down again but the door swung open revealing Finn and Brittany. "We've got another one!" Finn explained, as if he were sporting fish.

Blaine looked apprehensive, "You really don't want to stay to see what mess Brittany got herself into. How in the world anyone managed to do that with a lancet I'll never know…."

I didn't need telling twice. Even if Blaine hadn't warned me it was that rust and salt and—

"You actually listened to me." He was stunned.

"Oh don't get too excited. It had nothing to do with you. I can't stand the smell of blood."

"People can't smell blood," he contradicted.

"Well," I countered, "I can. And it makes me sick!"

Blaine was staring at me.

Finn came through the door then, glancing from me to Blaine. The look he gave Blaine confirmed what Blaine had said about loathing though I'd ask Finn about it later. He looked back at me.

"You look better!" he said cheerfully.

"As long as you keep your hand away from me!" I joked.

"It's not bleeding anymore," he promised, "Are you coming back to class?"

"You're kidding me, right? You know the second I walk in I'd only be walking right back out again."

"Good point," Finn agreed, "Oh um… are you coming this weekend? To the beach?" While he spoke, he flashed another glance at Blaine, who was standing against the counter, motionless as a statue, pretending not to notice our conversation at all.

Of course I wanted to go. I said I'd go. I was doing this for Burt. I was sure he'd love for me to get to know Finn better. "I'm still in."

"We're meeting at my mom's store, at ten. I'll see you next class then."

He slumped off patting my shoulder. He had such a puppy face. I hoped he wouldn't be too mopey during—

"Gym," I groaned.

"I can take care of that." Blaine offered and within minutes thanks to Mr. Suave we had been both been excused from class. I wish I could do that. There must have been some wishful thinking in my expression because whether or not he was joking, Blaine offered to carry me again.

"I'll walk, thank you." I stood carefully, and I was still fine. Ever the gentleman, he opened the door for me and I was greeted by soft rain—it felt nice after being stuck in a warm office for so long.

"Thanks," I repeated as he followed me out. "It's almost worth getting sick to miss Gym."

He nodded. I decided I'd bring up Finn's little trip, "Are you coming with us this Saturday?"

I felt I was hoping for too much. It wasn't that he didn't just fit in here; Blaine seemed to belong to a whole other world. But just hoping that he might say yes gave me a jolt I hadn't felt in years.

"Where exactly are you going?"

"Down to First Beach, in La Push."

He glanced down at me, smiling wryly. "I really don't think I was invited."

"Yeah well, I'm inviting you!"

"I don't know Kurt, I don't really want to push Finn any further than I should. Especially if he's like family to you."

Why did I feel like Blaine was making excuses?

We were near the parking lot now when Blaine suddenly stopped walking.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

He eyes were downcast, "I promised to get you home safely. I don't really think you should be driving in your condition."

I tried very hard to suppress laughter, "Condition? Excuse me? And don't forget my truck is here."

"I'll have Mercedes drop it off after school." He put his hand ever-so-lightly on my waist and began steering me in the direction of his Volvo. Though I had no reservations about the touching I didn't like being forced into anything. "Blaine, this really isn't necessary!"

I staggered along sideways across the wet sidewalk until we reached his car. When he finally let go I almost stumbled against the passenger door. "You're not pushy at all, are you?" I asked sarcastically.

"It's open," was his only response. He got into the driver's seat.

"I am perfectly capable of driving myself home!" I stood by the car, fuming. It was raining harder now, and my hair was starting to drip.

He lowered the automatic window and leaned toward me across the seat. "Get in, Kurt."

I didn't answer. I was mentally calculating my chances of reaching my truck before he could catch me. I had to admit they didn't look good.

"This is completely unnecessary," I said stiffly as I surrendered into the seat beside him. He fiddled with the controls, turning the heater up and the music down. I was preparing to give him the silent treatment as we pulled out of the parking lot but then I recognized the music playing and my curiosity got the better of me.

"I didn't pick you as a Streisand fan!" I said, surprised.

"You know this song?" Blaine sounded surprised, too.

"I love it!" I admitted, "My mother used to play a lot of her music around the house. It's one of my favorites."

"It's one of my favorites, too." He stared out through the rain, lost in thought.

I listened to the music, relaxing against the gray leather seat softly humming to myself. It was impossible not to sing along when I knew the words so well.

"What was your mother like?" he asked me suddenly.

I stopped singing. No one had ever asked me that before. I swallowed. "She was really pretty. I have her eyes. She was very brave and even when she got sick she was still looking after me and Burt. She was my best friend." I stopped. Talking about her was more depressing than I had expected.

"How old are you, Kurt?"

We had already arrived at Burt's house. The rain was pouring down heavier than before. It was almost like Blaine's Volvo was submerged under a river.

"I'm seventeen," I responded.

"You don't seem seventeen."

My eyes narrowed, "Yeah well, you don't seem much like a junior either," I noted.

He made a face and quickly changed the subject.

"Do you think your father will marry Carole?"

It didn't take me long to answer this, "I hope so. Carole… she's good for him. Burt finally looks alive again with her around. And it will be nice having Finn as a brother, I suppose."

"So you approve?" he asked.

"Does it matter?" I countered. "I want Burt to be happy and if Carole is who he wants…"

"That's very generous…I wonder," he mused.

"What?"

"Would Burt extend the same courtesy to you, do you think? No matter who your choice was?" He was suddenly intent, his eyes searching mine.

"I-I think so," I stuttered. "But he is the parent after all. And I haven't yet told him of my… choices."

"So no women then," he teased.

I'd never had this discussion before with anyone. But somehow—having this conversation with Blaine in his car felt really comfortable. I had my suspicions about him since Rachel had joked about Blaine playing for the 'other team,' but this was the first time, however cryptically, that we were talking about it.

I thought for a moment, wondering whether the truth or a lie would go over better. I decided to go with the truth.

"Hmmm, I think you'd want just as many female suitors as I do."

"If that number is zero, then yes, I suppose you're right… What are you thinking now?"

He had an awful habit of repeating that question. "I guess I was just wondering about your family. It's got to be a much more interesting story than mine."

He was instantly cautious, "What do you want to know?"

"The Cullens adopted you?" I verified.

"Yes."

I hesitated for a moment. "What happened to your parents?"

"They died many years ago." His tone was matter-of-fact.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled.

"I don't really remember them that clearly. William and Emma have been my parents for a long time now."

"And you love them." It wasn't a question. It was obvious in the way he spoke of them.

"Yes." He smiled. "I couldn't imagine two better people."

"You're very lucky."

"I know I am."

"And your brother and sister?"

He glanced at the clock on the dashboard.

"My brother and sister, and Sam and Quinn for that matter, are going to be quite upset if they have to stand in the rain waiting for me."

"Will I see you at the beach on Saturday?" I didn't want to get out of his car.

"No. Puck and I are starting the weekend early."

"What are you guys getting up to?" A friend could ask that, right? I hoped the disappointment in my voice wasn't too apparent.

"We're going to be hiking in the Goat Rocks Wilderness, just south of Rainier."

I remembered Burt had mentioned the Cullens went camping frequently.

"Oh, well have fun!" I tried to sound enthusiastic but failed miserably. As I walked hurriedly back to the house, I heard him call out after me.

"Kurt? Just be careful this weekend! You seem to attract accidents like a magnet and I don't want to have to find out that you've fallen into a river!"

He was smiling but I glared straight at him. "I'll try my best!" I said sarcastically.

He was still smiling as he drove away.

And once my glare vanished, so was I.