Chapter 13

(KURT'S POV)

Blaine and I are halfway through our sixth episode of trashy reality TV and almost finished with the box of pizza we'd ended up ordering when the front door bangs open with surprising vitality.

"You." Rachel points accusingly at Blaine, eyes narrowed.

"Me what?" Blaine asks, all too innocent.

"You knew all this time and you didn't tell me!" Rachel yells, but her lips are twitching as she fights off a smile, as does Blaine. There's a pregnant pause, and Blaine cracks first, grinning so wide his face must hurt.

I turn back and that's when I see it. My grandmother's ring sitting on Rachel's finger. The light in the room isn't bright enough to cause it to sparkle but I see it anyway, and once I do I realize that it's over. It's no longer mine to claim.

I could never take it from Rachel now, it her engagement ring. It'd just be cruel to take it back.

I direct my face away from Rachel's hand to fight off the stinging feeling in my chest, and the expression on Finn's face instantly quells it.

He's watching Rachel with a fond expression. Moreover, he's looking at her with a sense of pride. Pride that can't only be for Rachel, but for himself, because he just took a huge step in his life. He did this all on his own, he made this happen. And I can understand that. That flush of independence that's filling his body because he's actually accomplished something for himself, by himself. I can understand it because I'm always hoping I'll be able to feel it again.

"Did everybody know but me?" Rachel asks.

"That's kinda the point." I say, the actual answer to her question obvious.

"Ugh!" Rachel yells with a grin before taking a running start at Blaine and launching herself onto the couch. At that exact moment I push myself up and head straight for Finn.

Together we watch Blaine and Rachel freak out and laugh together. I bump my shoulder against Finn's and see his mouth twitch in the corner of my eye, but we don't say anything, and for some reason that's okay.

"Oh! Oh! I've got to go call my dads, they are gonna flip!" At that, Finn's eyes widen in fear. "In a good way, in a good way!" She assures him, before grabbing his hand and rushing toward their room.

"Okay but we gotta call my mom 'cause she'll be pissed if she's the last to kn--" and the door slams shut behind them.

I turn to Blaine to see his eyes shining with tears.

"Blaine, Rachel isn't even crying." I grin at his pink face.

"Shut up." He replies, and then sniffles wetly. I snort at this, causing us both to start laughing.

Turns out that Finn's good fortune has yet to run out, for not too many days later, he comes bursting into the living room, phone in hand. Rachel is at rehearsal and Blaine is out with his friend Wes, so I'm the only other occupant.

"Kurt! I got the job!"

"Really?" I say, and he nods at me. "That's awesome, man! What, um, what exactly is your job?"

"Sales assistant."

"How does it pay?" I ask, having not a single clue what that job entails.

"Good, for right now." He replies.

"Cool," I nod. "You deserve it, so." I smile, hopefully dispelling any lingering bitterness that might overshadow the genuine happiness I'm feeling for my brother.

"Is that okay?" He asks carefully.

"Is what okay?" I ask, suddenly defensive.

"I-- I just know you're still job hunting. I just got excited, I wasn't trying to show off, that'd be a dick move--"

"Not hunting anymore."

"Sorry?"

"I'm not job hunting anymore." I say, the words flying out of my mouth before I can stop them.

"You're not?"

"Nope. I think I might have finally, uh, finally nailed something down." I lie.

"Great, where?"

Where? Jesus, I don't know--

"You know, it isn't a definite yet, so, I don't wanna jinx it."

"Oh, uh, okay." He smiles.

"Yeah, so, no need to worry about me or anything."

"Good, good... I know you just said you don't wanna jinx it or whatever, but is it alright if I tell Burt next time he calls that you think you think you've got something? He's always asking me if you're working yet, and--"

My eyes widen.

"How often do you guys talk?" I ask, ignoring his question.

Finn's eyes widen a little at my abruptness. "I dunno. He's called a few times, why?"

My heart plummets into my shoes.

"Just curious." I shrug, hating how stupid I feel right now.

Finn nods, looking completely unconvinced and confused at the same time. I suppose that's understandable but I don't want to be around to see it. I pull out my phone and look at the time, pretending to seem surprised.

"I gotta go, I got a date with Mercedes." I tell him, pulling on a pair of shoes.

"No shit?" Finn says with a grin, slapping me on the back. "Are you guys a thing yet?"

"No, no." I say, not lying in the slightest, but trying to look embarrassed as I wave him off.

"It's gonna happen, bro, I'm calling it." He says as I open the front door. "We're rooting for you!" And I close the door behind me, touched by his support, but still flustered by our conversation in its entirety.

I pull out my phone and dial Mercedes' number as I make my way out of the building.

"Hello?" She asks, and I can hear the sound of a car and lots of voices in the background.

"Uh, did I catch you at a bad time?"

"No, no. Well, sort of-- I'm on the way to a gig, but I got a few minutes."

"Oh, uh, never mind, I'll call back later, it was nothing--"

"Kurt, what is it?" She chuckles.

I force the words to come before I can chicken out. "I was just wondering if you wanted to, uh, hang out?" It sounds like a question.

"Oh," she responds, and I can detect a smile in her voice, which helps me relax. "Yeah, Definitely. Wanna come?"

"What?"

"Wanna come to the gig?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I'd love to." I say, suddenly excited. I step onto the sidewalk and flag down a cab.

She gives me the address, and I relay the information to the driver before hanging up.

I just need to get out of the house, take my mind off of how much better Finn's doing than me...

"Finn's doing so much better than me." I say into my beer bottle. Mercedes has a half hour break between sets and I'm taking full advantage of it.

"What? No he's not. How is he doing better?" Mercedes asks, ever supportive.

"Well, he's so happy, and he's engaged-- engaged, Mercedes! I mean, my god, how did that happen?"

Mercedes chuckles. "That's crazy. How is the same guy who thought that cucumbers could give you AIDS getting married before either of us?"

My jaw drops. "Oh my god, that's exactly what I had thought!" We have a good laugh at the ridiculousness of it before I say, "You're one to talk, Mercedes! I remember that class, you look pretty convinced yourself after he put it out there!"

"Man, we were so stupid." She laughs harder for a moment, but once we come down from our highs, she gives me a concerned look and asks, "How's that going for you, by the way?"

"What? Being stupid?" I ask, confused.

"No, I mean the engagement. Like, having the girl you love being set to marry your brother and stuff. That's gotta be pretty tough." She says rather bluntly.

"Oh," I say, having forgotten the lie I told her about my so-called "feelings" for Rachel. My face goes slack as I search for something to say, which Mercedes mistakes for dejection.

"Not well, then?" She asks delicately, her worry making my chest ache for lying to her.

"It's, um, it's going okay."

"Come on Kurt, you called me up. Let's talk about you."

"I didn't call you to talk about my problems, I called you to forget about them for while."

"Which is exactly why you should talk about them."

"God, you're nearly as bad as Blaine." I sigh.

"Who?"

"The other guy who lives with us."

"Right, right..." She says dismissively.

It goes quiet for a moment and she starts glaring at me.

I chuckle. Maybe I could tell her stuff. You know, without actually telling her stuff.

"Okay, okay." I sigh, collecting my thoughts. "I just... I've been pushing down all my feelings for so long that I wasn't even really thinking about it anymore, it was just a thing I did and that was life. But then, like moving here... it's just bringing up all this stuff again and no matter how much I try to cram it all down it keeps coming back up... And I don't know how to deal with it because I'm not-- I'm not familiar with it anymore. Does that-- does even make any sense? I'm really bad at explaining myself--"

"I think I get it." She says softly.

"And I want to tell Finn so badly." I continue, leaning forward in my chair and reaching into my pocket, suddenly unable to stop the word vomit. I clench my ever-comforting Swiss Army knife in my fist, squeezing the glossy red exterior. "I want to tell him so that I can stop carrying around this-- this shame all the time... But I'm so worried that he'll hate me. My dad'll definitely hate me. And if I tell my dad then he'll tell Finn and I just can't lose Finn. I wouldn't be able to survive that..." I'm staring at the table for a long while before I'm startled out of my daze by Mercedes' hand coming to rest on my forearm.

"Kurt are we still talking about Rachel?" She asks gently. All of a sudden I hate her tone of voice and the look in her eyes.

I jerk my arm out of her grasp. "Of course we are."

"Okay, well... Why are you ashamed of it? You can't change how you feel..."

Why do I feel shame? I almost laugh in her face. "Because, it's not-- it's not 'conventional' or whatever. Being-- being in love with your brother's fiancé, that's not an okay thing to be, i-it's wrong--"

"It's not ideal but it's definitely not wrong. That's a bit extreme. There's no need to beat yourself up about it like this. I mean, if this thing with them lasts, then she's gonna be around for, like, the rest of your lives."

"Jesus Christ." I mutter.

"And-- and I don't mean to tell you what to do, that's not cool-- but if it were me, I'd just learn to work with it right now. I mean it can't last forever, right?"

"I've been trying to tell myself that for years and it hasn't gone away yet." I say miserably.

"Maybe this wedding will make it go away."

"Maybe." I reply, suddenly sad that Mercedes doesn't actually know what the real problem is. I sigh. "And then I just feel bad 'cause all I'm doing is thinking about myself. I mean, Finn told me he got a job today, and I know how lucky he is to find work right now, but all I could think about was how pathetic it made me look."

"You haven't gotten a job yet?" Mercedes asks, eyebrows raised.

"Haven't even gotten an interview." I sigh.

"I work at Starbucks, when I'm not, you know, doing this." She gestures around the bar. "Maybe I could help you out. At least, you know, until you find whatever job you're really looking for." She offers. A wave of relief crashes over me.

"That would be amazing, thank you." I smile gratefully at her.

We go silent for a moment.

"You know it's funny. In high school I always thought you had everything figured out already. Like you knew exactly where you were going and what you were doing, and you were gonna make it really big and get tons of money and stuff."

I laugh. "Mercedes, what's in god's name ever gave you that impression?"

"I don't know... You never really spoke, you were always just observing everybody. It kinda seemed like you knew something the rest of us didn't... Like you were just humoring all of us until the time came to, like, move on to bigger and better things, I guess."

I smile sadly at her and say nothing.

"I guess you just seemed mysterious so I filled in the blanks myself." She chuckles.

"Why didn't you ever say anything? I could have used a friend like you."

"I was too scared." She laughs. "I figured you had to be somebody really important for Finn, the star quarterback, break away from the footballers to sit with you at lunch or walk with you in the hallways or whatever. Nobody could figure you two out."

"I didn't realize anybody gave me a second glance." I say, surprised.

"We all kept telling Finn to get you to join glee club 'cause we needed more members but he said you, like, refused to join." She says accusingly.

"I wanted to join so badly, I did, but my dad doesn't like it when I sing show tunes-- he thought glee club would make me look really gay." I shrug my shoulders.

Mercedes raises her eyebrows. "A) That's not true and B) We don't only sing show tunes."

"I know but I just didn't wanna rock the boat. Our relationship's always been kinda dicey."

"I'm sorry to hear that." She says.

"Mercedes!" Someone behind me calls.

Mercedes checks the time on her phone before sighing. "Looks like my break is up."

"I should probably head back, anyway." I say, standing up with her.

She taps my chin with her thumb. "Chin up, okay? You'll figure something out, don't worry."

"I'm a worrier, it's what I do." I chuckle.

"I'm sorry. You came here looking for a fun time and now you look sadder than when you got here."

"No no. I actually feel a lot better, I'm just thinking. Thank you, Mercedes."

"Anytime. Call me if you need to talk about anything." She smiles, before heading off toward the stage.

I stand there for a few seconds, staring at her retreating form before I step onto the sidewalk and flag down a taxi to head home.

As I open the front door and turn around to close it behind me, I'm immediately hear Rachel yell "Kurt!"

I hear a door to my right-- Blaine's door-- open and close and footsteps pad into the living room.

"Hey, Burt, Mom, Kurt's back!" Finn calls and my entire body freezes. What?

No no no no no no--

I can literally feel the hair on the back if my neck prickle as my muscles are locked in place, my hand still on the doorknob.

I know I must look stupid but I can't make myself turn around to face my dad. I'm getting better here, why does he always have to ruin things? I stay where I am. Maybe if I just leave right now, walk back out the door, I can pretend that he's not here and that things are still normal.

"Well, put him on!" I hear Carole laugh. But, her voice sounds off, muffled--

I force myself to move, my body whirling around to the middle of the living room.

But my dad and Carole aren't there. It's only Finn and Rachel on the couch, a phone between them, looking at me expectantly, and Blaine standing in the pathway from the living room to the kitchen, also staring at me with that ever-present concern on his face.

"Kurt?" My dad's voice calls out from the speakerphone.

"Wh-What's going on?" I ask, still kinda shaky. I'm filled with the irrational feeling that I'm being accused of something.

"We were going over the details of Finn's proposal." Rachel smiles.

"I had to know everything!" Carole chimes in delightedly.

"Didn't you call them last night?" I ask, my mind slow and twitchy.

"Well it was late when we called. We saved the story-telling for today."

"Oh." I say, feeling dumb, my back still against the door.

"What's a matter, Kurt? Come say hi to your old man." My dad calls.

"Okay." I say numbly, forcing my feet to bring me toward one of the chairs near Finn and Rachel. Blaine changes his course, turning from the kitchen and coming to sit in one of the chair opposite mine, on the other side of the coffee table.

He's not here, he's just on the phone. Relax. Breathe. In, out, in out...

Rachel hands me the phone, but continues talking. "Kurt just got back from his date!" She grins at me, way too excited for my current mood.

"Really?" My dad asks, sounding genuinely surprised.

"Uh, yeah." I reply, unable to focus.

"That's-- that's great, Bud, what's her name?"

"I'm sorry, it's what?" I ask, shocked.

"I said that that's great." He repeats.

Great. Something I did was great. That's-- what? What is even happening? Who is this person on the phone?

"Thanks?" I reply, unsure.

"Is that a question?" He asks gruffly, now he sounds like my dad.

"Thank you, sir." I say, so hesitation this time.

"This girl, what's her name?" He asks. I force myself to pay attention, knowing he'll just get angry if he has to ask me again.

"Mercedes." I reply with perfect enunciation.

"And how'd it go?"

I think back on my conversation with Mercedes in the bar.

"It went really well." I say truthfully.

"You gonna see her again?"

"Yeah, definitely."

"That's good to hear."

"Thank you, sir." I say again, unsure about how to respond to his pleasantries.

"Kurt, take me off speakerphone for a minute."

Oh, god.

I do what he asks, taking a breath before holding the phone up to my ear.

"Okay." I say, letting him know he's off speakerphone.

"I wanna talk to you for a minute."

"Sure." I reply, leaning forward in my seat.

I hear him give a great big sigh like he has the weight of the world resting on his shoulders, followed by the muffled sound of movement as though he were changing rooms.

"Look, Kurt, I understand you got a queer up in that house with you--"

"Dad--" I say nervously, my eyes involuntarily shifting to Blaine, whose brows furrow in response to my gaze.

"Don't interrupt me. Listen, Kurt, I want to say that I'm proud of you."

That is quite possibly the last thing I was expecting to come out of his mouth.

"Why?"

"'Cause, I know that that's always been an issue with you. Something I always had to work harder to steer you away from than most other parents have to. And just... knowing that you're seeing a girl and staying clear of that whole mess is really good to hear. I'm glad you're, you know, keeping it up on your own. I know it must be hard with that kind of influence right in your living space, God knows that whole city is full of people like him, so I want you to know that I'm seeing the effort you're putting out, okay? And I hope it stays that way. I didn't think this whole thing was gonna work at first but it looks like you're proving yourself over there."

My eyes prickle with moisture without my permission so I stand up. Before anybody can say a word I quickly make my way into Finn and Rachel's room so that no one has to see.

I clear my throat so that my dad won't hear how emotional I'm getting. That would defeat his purpose.

"Thank you, I'm working really hard to be better." I force the words out.

"I can see that, Kiddo."

Fuck fuck fuck--

"Finn says you might've gotten a job?"

"Um, yeah I think so." I lie.

"I'm glad things are finally looking up for you."

I'd scoff at the irony if my throat wasn't so closed up.

"Thanks, dad. Me too."

There's a pregnant pause. I can feel my body fill with anger. An anger I've never felt before at my father, whose finally happy for me for all the wrong reasons.

"Um, I gotta go, Dad. Do you want me to put Finn and Rachel back on?" I ask.

"Sure, sure. Talk to you later, Bud." He says. Will you? I wonder.

My eyes are dry by now so I take the phone back out to the living room and hand it to Finn with an apologetic look in my eyes. He gazes at me curiously but says nothing.

On the other side of the room, I can see Blaine checking the time on his phone.

"I'll see you guys later, I got a class." Blaine announces, slipping on a pair of shoes.

He grabs a small sports bag from his room and heads for the door.

"I'm gonna take a walk." I say quietly so my dad can't hear me through the phone, and follow Blaine out the door.

We walk for a few moments in silence while I fume over my dad having the nerve to congratulate me for not acting gay.

Finally Blaine turns to me.

"Kurt are you alr--"

"So my dad says he's proud of me."

Blaine hitches his bag over his shoulder and smiles. "Wow. That's-- that's good, right?"

"He's proud of me for resisting the influences of my queer roommate in this queer city." I say bitingly.

Blaine slows down a little, his face falling. All of a sudden I regret what I said, not thinking of how that might have hurt Blaine.

"He said those exact words?"

"Pretty much." I frown.

"And is that what you're doing?" Blaine asks, picking up his pace.

I open my mouth to respond but nothing comes out. Is that what I've been trying to do?

"Not anymore." I say, hoping he doesn't hate me.

"That was... surprisingly honest." He remarks. "Why are you telling me this?"

"'Cause everything my dad is starting to like about me isn't actually me, if that makes any sense... Like I just wanted to vent to you, but now I'm kinda thinking you might, I don't know, have some words of wisdom? So that I don't blow a gasket? 'Cause I don't really know what to do with myself right now."

Blaine looks me over for a minute as we walk.

"Have you ever read Autumn Leaves? By André Gide?"

"What...? No, I don't think so." What the hell is he talking about?

"Okay well there's this quote in it that goes, 'It is better to be hated for what you are than to be loved for what you are not.' And I feel like that kind of fits here... You really want your dad's approval, right?"

"Right."

"How did you think you'd feel when you got it?"

"I thought if I ever got it I'd be... Relieved? Happier than I am now, at least."

"And how do you feel now?"

"Pissed off."

"Exactly. Because he isn't approving of you, he's approving of a version of you that doesn't actually exist. So nothing's really been achieved."

"So... what are you getting at?" I ask, slightly amazed by how seriously Blaine is taking this.

"I'm saying that you're not the one who has to change. You're his son, he's the one who has to change. There's no way you can be happy the other way around."

"That would never happen."

"It could. It could definitely happen."

Maybe in a perfect world.

"How would you know?" I retort, suddenly feeling angry again. Why did I even ask him for advice? With his rich family and happy-go-luck life and private school background--

"'Cause I've lived it. My mom was the same way." He says, falling silent for a few moments before continuing. "My freshman year of high school I took another boy to a school dance without telling my family. And I got beat up so bad I had to come out to my parents in a hospital bed. My mom got so mad she kicked me out."

"What'd you do?" I ask as I attempt to remove the proverbial foot from my mouth.

"My brother stayed in Ohio for a little while and I crashed with him, but he had to get back to LA. So he and my dad got me into Dalton so that I could stay in the dorms, and I lived there for a couple of years."

"How'd she change her mind?" I ask, stunned.

"I saw her in the audience when I did West Side Story." He smiles at the memory. "She hated the dancing thing but she still came with my dad 'cause she couldn't help it, I guess. And I realized what was happening was so pointless... So I came home. And my dad and I sat her down and told her that I wasn't leaving and I wasn't changing myself for her and that if she wanted this family to work, she had to accept that."

"So what happened?" I ask, even though I know he's gonna tell me anyways.

"She picked family. You'd be surprised by how many people want to pick family. They're just so focused on tradition, or what people will say behind their backs, or how-- how scared they are of something they don't completely understand that I guess they just don't really realize it. At least, that's what I tell myself."

"And things were okay with you two after that?"

"No. No, it was really hard at first... It's still hard sometimes... But we're making it work. And it's getting better every time I see her." He smiles hopefully.

"I don't know what to say."

Blaine comes to a stop and turns to face me.

"Don't give up hope, ever. He'll come around."

I nod, forcing myself to believe his words.

"Well, I'm where I need to be." He says, pointing behind him.

"Woah." I say, not realizing I'd walked all the way to his class with him.

"Good luck with your walk." He smiles. "I'll see you back the apartment--"

"Wait." I say, not ready for him to leave yet. I search my brain for something to say, and I make a rash decision.

"Yeah?"

"I have a question." I say, and he nods, so I continue. "So, you're a dance teacher."

Blain's eyebrows furrow but his mouth twitches into a grin. "That I am."

"And I know there's gonna be dancing at Finn and Rachel's wedding reception."

"Of course."

Just ask.

"So, basically, the last wedding I went to didn't go so well." You locked yourself in a bathroom and nearly tried to kill yourself, idiot. "And I don't wanna sit on the sidelines again, I wanna be dancing with everybody. But I have no idea how to dance and I was wondering--"

"If I would teach you?" Blaine interrupts, looking all too pleased with the situation.

"Pretty much, yeah."

"Of course I would! I mean, we can't really do it here yet 'cause the school year's ending in a couple of weeks, but I teach a summer workshop here that's open for everybody ."

"Oh, I'm kind of embarrassed to dance in front of other people."

"Everybody is on their first day. But you get used to it. Isn't that kinda like what you're trying to do? Get comfortable in your own skin?"

Fuck that makes a lot of sense.

I nod, albeit a bit reluctantly, before I can change my mind.

"You're right." I concede. Then a thought occurs to me. "But, Blaine, I can't afford to pay for classes right now."

"I wouldn't make you pay." He chuckles. "You can still come to my classes and participate, you just wouldn't be on the roster and you wouldn't get any credits for it but I doubt that's a concern anyways." He chuckles.

"Are you sure you're okay with that?" I clarify.

"Of course I'm okay with it... So you'll come?"

I think for a moment but my answer is obvious. "Yeah. Yeah, how could I say no to that offer?"

"Good, good." There's a pause for a moment, during which I can't tell whether or not Blaine's smile is going to tear his face in half. "Do you have any plans today?"

And once again my answer is "No."

"You wanna come up and watch a class? See how it works? We're practicing for the recital this weekend but you're more than welcome to pop in."

"Um, yeah sure." I agree, not knowing what else to do with myself and unable to turn down his hopeful face.

Blaine grins again and lays a careful hand on my shoulder, steering me toward the campus.