Behind the Mask
PenelopeCough
Normalcy Previous Chapter Next Chapter Story
Give Kudos Track Story Bookmark Comment
Report

Behind the Mask: Normalcy


M - Words: 8,903 - Last Updated: Feb 15, 2012
Story: Closed - Chapters: 14/? - Created: Nov 22, 2011 - Updated: Feb 15, 2012
370 0 0 0 0


Author's Notes: A/N:Due to my course load, from now on, I am going to try my best to update every two weeks.

Nick's POV

It was Thursday. The week went by pretty quickly. It had been 4 days since that whole Kurt and Blaine date fiasco. Everyone seemed so down which was completely understandable. I just hoped Thad or someone would sue the crap out that restaurant. It wouldn't be me because I didn't have family lawyers at my disposal like the other guys did. I was complicated. I had money, but not really. I had an account for myself, since my dad wasn't in the picture right now. Then, there was my grandmother trying to help me out, but I didn't like charity. I was fine with people donating to those less fortunate or whatever, just not me. I hated using "family money" on myself. Yes, I was entitled to it, but it felt wrong to spend money that I hadn't earned, money that my father aided in earning. That thought alone disgusted me. I could work when I wasn't studying and pay for my tuition here at Dalton and most of my college tuition. I just needed a scholarship of some sort to help me out with the books and out of state tuition fees. I thought it was ridiculous that just because I was unlucky enough to be born in another state as my dream college I had to pay a few thousand dollars extra. Why was that even there? Did people out of state have to pay extra because they need a team of therapists to help them cope with being away from home? Would I be paying for a more fun experience than the in-state kids? From looking at all the websites, pamphlets, magazines, and books, it seemed like we all got the same bullshit college experience filled with hard times, working, and assholes.

I could have complained all day about how stupid it was, but at the end of the day I needed some extra cash to pay for those out of state fees. I had been trying so hard to get my resume up to par so some school would give me a scholarship. I had this stupid college luncheon/ cocktail party type thing around 1 p.m. today to meet with alumni for a scholarship. It was in the middle of the day. Who does that? I was happy that I was excused from my afternoon classes, but also worried. I would have to get all of my notes from some random student. I didn't trust anyone's notes but my own. I also needed to make up all those quizzes I would miss. At least Kurt had already picked something out for me to wear to this thing. I didn't even know if food would be served, but I did know that Kurt would murder me if I spilled anything on it. I knew that various alumni would be there and I needed to make the best impression possible since Brown is probably laughing at me. I wouldn't even have had to worry about this "get together" if I hadn't completely botched that Brown interview. I'd be happy with any Ivy League after that. Kurt thought I was exaggerating the whole experience when we talked, and I was starting to think that I might have been exaggerating it all too. I was sure that Brown University alumni had something better to every day than sit around joking about the kids they interviewed. Hopefully. Plus, the thing I was going to was for Yale. A few Yale benefactors invited "a select handful of students" as prospects for this new genius scholarship. I would get a chance to scope out the competition…That scared me too. I had to think positively about this whole thing. At least I got to drive Jeff's monster vehicle. I had to find my own transportation, and no one trusts me with my own car. I suspected my family thought I would have run away if they ever bought me one. I probably would have, but today, Jeff's car was all mine. It was huge and wonderful and I had the car all afternoon, and who was I kidding? I'm still freaking out about this "luncheon/cocktail party thing" or whatever it was. All of my excitement about missing classes quickly dissolved into complete worry. I was really just ready for this all to be over with.

I zoned back into English and looked over at Kurt. He seemed to be doing pretty well after everything that happened. Kurt and I were touch and go on our friendship in a way, but he was just worrying about me. We were okay, though, I think. He'd been going on my runs with me. I started running every day, and Kurt joins me. He seemed to get me more than anyone else, even Jeff at times, but Kurt didn't know me like he does. I never wanted Kurt to find out about the cutting. He might have refused to speak to me or worse: tell Jeff. Telling Jeff would be the worst thing anyone could do. I couldn't even imagine his reaction. His predicted reactions ranged from anger to sadness to just him flipping out on me. I wondered how Kurt would react if he knew. I think his response would be calmer than anything Jeff would do. I felt like I should have told Kurt more and possibly confess about the cutting. I felt like I owed him because he told me about the problems at his old school. He even told me while we were running about the things he's doing to cope with it, and how hard he's trying with Blaine which I admire him for. He was so scared to let anyone in after what happened to him, but he was trying and even had a boyfriend. But is that how a friendship works? Should I have just exchanged secrets with Kurt? Should I tell him something deep and personal about me every time he does? I would normally ask Kurt about something like this but I couldn't.

"Mr. Duval!" the teacher yelled, and I flinched at the loudness of her voice.

"...what?" I asked, confused.

"I was just announcing to the class about how you will be representing Dalton Academy this afternoon at Yale University's Alumni Party for Gifted Students, Mr. Duval," she said as she came closer. Kurt quickly moved his book on top of his notebook and blushed. "I asked you how it felt to be one of the students wanted for the 'genius' scholarship."

"Oh," I said. I had no idea what I was supposed to say, and that was what came out. I could literally feel everyone judging me and piercing me in the back with their eyes. I felt like a complete idiot, but I was trying to see what exactly Kurt was hiding.

She laughed. "Do us proud, Mr. Duval," she said. "And you had better come up with something better than 'Oh' to say to the Yale benefactors this afternoon." She winked.

'Yes, I know. Thanks so much for those words of wisdom,' I wanted to say. Instead I just said, "Thanks. I will." I even added a nervous smile.

She continued her lecture and walked towards the back of the classroom. Kurt pushed the book off his notebook and began writing again. I looked over and saw that he had drawn a giant heart with him and Blaine's name in it. It was the most vomit worthy thing ever.

Kurt and Blaine were pretty cute. It was strange for some of the students to see them here, though. The other guys around here weren't hateful, just surprised. It wasn't strange to me at all. It reminded me of those straight high school couples. Blaine was kind of like the guy and Kurt was clearly the girl. Blaine would come get Kurt from his class, hold his hand, and then drop him off at the door of his next class. They walked slowly and close together. They didn't really talk, just smiled a lot. Sometimes Kurt would even hug him and say 'thank you.' I was a little bit jealous of them. I watched them so intently this week that Jeff joked that I might have been jealous of Blaine. Of course, that was completely absurd in a way. I was jealous of them, but not of their relationship. It was their happiness that I wanted. I wanted so much to be that worry-free, that content, and feel protected in some way. I wanted all of those things for myself without having to resort to mutilating myself. That suited me more than what they were doing though. Finding love was a whole other ball game.

Class was finally over and there he was right on schedule to pick up his precious Kurt. I swear that some days Blaine thought Kurt would shatter in pieces if he let go of his hand or showed up late to pick him up.

"Hey," Wes said as we watched Kurt and Blaine walk off slowly. "Wanna walk with me?" He sounded so …normal. He used his inside voice and everything.

"Um, yeah, sure," I said. He started walking so I followed. He didn't try to hold my hand, and he didn't skip either. It had been like that for the past few days. We would walk to class together in silence. Wes and I didn't really have much in common, but seeing him so worn down worried me. I wondered if someone had died, but Kurt assured me that that wasn't the case. He wouldn't say anything else about it though which worried me even more. Wes wasn't the type of person to let anything bother him or get him in any type of mood besides excited. It was really none of my business, but I thought that I should ask anyway. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine," he said. He didn't look back at me he just kept walking.

"You'll be fine?" I asked. "So, that is to say that right now you are not fine, right? Something has had you down for a few days now. I mean first you move in to Kurt's room, temporarily. Then you move completely out of David's room and into your own room next door. Did he do something? Did something bad happen between you two? You have a fight?"

"Yes and no to all of that," he answered. "It wasn't a fight. It's just complicated. Thanks for asking, Nick, but I really don't want to talk about it to anyone or anything."

I wanted to make one of those jokes I used to and say something like, 'Not even God, Wesley,' but it didn't seem appropriate given the solemn mood.

"No, not even God…especially not God," Wes added, as if he read my mind.

That comment made me worry even more. What in the world could he and David have fought about? It must have been something horrible to cause those two to be on such strange terms. Like I said earlier, it wasn't my business, so I left it alone after that.

Around 11 pm, I was dismissed from class to get ready. I went back to the dorms to get dressed. When I was done, I felt weird. I was in dress pants and a fancy green button up with a tie. It was really no different from what I wore to school every day, but for some reason I felt constricted in a way. It felt stuffy in the room, and I was a little light headed. I loosened my tie, and looked for my wallet and Jeff's keys. I put my wallet and phone in my back pocket, but I couldn't find the keys. Jeff's side of the room was more organized than normal. I used the word 'organized' because it's still messy, and there is still junk everywhere. The junk was just organized into piles and placed near places it was supposed to go. The trash, for example, was scattered in a circle around the trash can, and his books were on the floor under his desk instead of on top of his desk. It was already getting close to 12 pm, so I decided to just go find Jeff. He was either having lunch or in the Art room.

I tried the Art room first, but no one had see him yet. I thought it was odd for him. He, Blaine, and Kurt had the same lunch time so I assumed that he would let them be alone for lunch. I looked around the cafeteria, and there he was, sitting across from Kurt and Blaine, staring at them.

"Really, Jeff?" I asked as I walked up behind him.

"What?" he said with food in his mouth as he turned his head.

"Swallow then speak," Blaine offered.

I sighed. "Why are you in here?" I asked Jeff.

"I didn't have Art stuff to work on so I came in here to have lunch with Blaine and Kurt…I always have lunch at this time," he said.

"You didn't think that they would want some alone time?" I asked.

"Naw, they're good," he said. He looked over to Kurt and Blaine and said, "You two don't mind me around, right?"

Blaine opened his mouth to object, but closed it immediately. Kurt just shook his head no. "See they don't mind me here, Nick," Jeff said happily.

I groaned. "I really think they're just being polite, Jeff."

"Whatever," he said. "They'd tell me to scram if they didn't want me around."

"Jeff—"

"Nick," Kurt interrupted, "it's really fine. I don't mind it at all, and I'm sure Blaine might a little, but it's really fine."

"Okay, Kurt," I said.

"So, why are you even here, Nick?" Jeff asked.

"That was kind of rude," I said, defensively.

"Sorry?" Jeff said, confused.

"You do look rather nice today, Nick," Blaine said, looking at Kurt, knowing Kurt picked out my clothes. Blaine rubbed the back of Kurt's hand and smiled at him. Kurt blushed and looked away from him. I scoffed at his romantic gesture. How did Jeff stand staring at this for a whole hour.

"Hey," Jeff said, "none of that." He gestured with his fork at Kurt and Blaine's hands which were intertwined. "I eat here." Blaine just rolled his eyes at Jeff and let go of Kurt's hand. "And yes, Nick, you do look good. What's the occasion?" he teased.

"Oh, stop," I said. "You all know that stupid brunch, luncheon, cocktail, party, bullshit of a get together thing is today."

"You really need to find out what exactly it is that you're going to," Jeff said.

"Yeah, what did the invitation say?" Blaine asked.

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "The principal got the letter and told me I was invited to a cocktail party by Yale for some of the students they've been looking at for a scholarship."

"Cocktail Party?" Kurt asked.

"Yep," Jeff said. "That's what he called it. But our German teacher has been calling it a 'luncheon.'"

"The math teacher has been calling it a 'brunch'," said Blaine.

"Oh, and our English teacher called it a 'party'," Kurt said. "So which is it?"

"I honestly have no idea what it is," I said. "The website called it a 'get-together.' I just know I'm invited to a thing 20 minutes away to kiss the asses of some wealthy benefactors."

"I don't see why you want the scholarship so badly," Jeff said. "College is pretty much paid for, for you." I didn't think he'd get it. I hoped he would just know that I didn't want to use that bastard's money to pay for my schooling, but he didn't. And I didn't feel like explaining it to him or anyone else.

"Oh, I just want to pay for it all on my own," I said.

"I really respect that, Nick," Kurt said as he smiled at me. He might not have fully understood what I meant, but I could tell he got what I meant.

"Thanks," I said with a smile. "Jeff, since I'm using your car to get to this mysterious venue, can I have your keys?"

"Oh!" Jeff yelled. "I'm sorry! I thought I left them for you on the dresser, but I think I took them with me by mistake!" He searched his pockets, and threw me the keys. "Are you going to be late?"

"Naw, it's fine, Jeff," I said. "Stop freaking out."

He took a deep breath. "Seriously, though, good luck, Nick," he said.

"Yeah, good luck, Nick!" Kurt said, cheerfully. "And tighten your tie. It looks loose. You'll want to make a good first impression on these people."

"Yeah, and smile more," Blaine said.

"Ha!" Jeff said. "You do always look so serious." He smiled. "Treat Bessie well."

"I'll drive your car carefully if that's what you mean," I said as I started to walk away.

Jeff stood up and grabbed my arm. "Bessie is not just 'a car.' She is a beautiful piece of art that deserves to be treated with respect. I love her more than anything and if you hurt Bessie in any way, I will be forced to hurt you." He looked so serious. I was actually slightly fearful of the stern tone he just gave me. Then he just pulled me into a hug. "Good luck, Nick. Just relax. You'll be fine," he whispered as he let go.

"…thanks," I said. "Bye!" I waved and left the cafeteria.

When I got into the parking lot, there were a lot more cars there than I expected. I knew that there would be students from all over the area that Yale deemed 'worthy' of the scholarship, but I didn't expect this many cars. The building was large, so I thought that maybe some of those cars belonged to people who worked there. I was just worried for no reason. Like Jeff said, everything was going to be fine. I fixed my tie, and walked in the building confidently. I was directed to a room packed full of people. There was a large table with name tags on it right next to the door of the hall. I grabbed mine and noticed that there were about 27 name tags left on the table. That meant even more people were coming! Why were there so many students there? I had no idea that this many students around Ohio were interested in Yale! And Yale was interested in them too! Damn. I didn't know if I stood a chance at all. There was so much competition.

"You could either go out and mingle with the other students," the woman at the name tag table suggested, "or you can start with the benefactors."

That sounded good. I could scope out all the competition first. "Okay, thanks," I said.

"No problem," she said with a friendly smile. "Be careful though. Some of the benefactors are easy to spot because of their age, but some of them look and are younger than you would expect."

I gave her another smile to mask my confusion. It didn't look like she cared, more like she knew I wasn't going to listen to her and she got to sit back and watch me make a fool of myself. Even the receptionist was against me. I'd prove her wrong. I made my way through the room pretending to connect to random strangers who were way older than me. I had complete control and was incredibly charming. I even 'accidentally' bumped into one of the alumni, apologized, and pretended to awkwardly squint at his name tag to get his name. We had a laugh, a fake laugh for me, about the name tags, and then talked business. I really could have been an actor with all the emotions I faked. I didn't think I had ever smiled that much. My face hurt. With one of the benefactors, I couldn't make myself smile. I think my face went numb, but he took me not laughing as me being honest and claimed he liked it. After about 45 minutes of that, I took a break and stood at one of the tables they had littered around the room. They were tall tables with white tablecloths on them and two stools. I sat in one of the stools and looked around. A girl with long dark brown hair and green eyes sat down in the stool across from me shortly after. She carefully took off her brown purse that perfectly matched her skin and placed it on the table.

"Are you sure you're in the right place?" the girl asked me.

"…yeah, why do you ask?" I asked worried.

"It's just that you don't look like a complete nerd," she said.

"Oh well thanks," I said. "You don't either, I guess."

"That didn't sound convincing at all," she said.

"I'm sorry, I just.." I started

"It's all good," she said. "How are you liking this get together?"

"It's alright," I said.

"Oh please, don't lie," she said. "You look as bored as I do. I wish I didn't need this stupid scholarship, but out of state tuition is a bitch."

"I know right!" I said.

"Yes, why should we have to pay an extra couple thousand dollars because we don't live in that state?" she asked.

"It's ridiculous," I agreed.

"Well, I'm going to go kiss some more ass," she said as she grabbed her purse off of the table. I smiled. "I'll see you around, Mr. Duval."

I wondered how she knew my name, but then I looked down at my name tag. She laughed at my obvious confusion. "See you, um, Ms. Vanhorklepunk…horklepounkt?"

"It's a shame such a cute boy like you can't read," she said and smiled.

"Ha-ha," I said. "You hair is blocking part of and—"

"I know, Nick. I was just joking," she said. "It's really an awful name, isn't it?" she said. "My friends just call me Nora. Well, I spot a member of the scholarship committee. See ya." And after that she just walked away.

I was relieved that I wasn't the only kid there who was normal for a change. I wish I had her confidence to just walk up to a stranger and say what's on her mind and walk away. It was interesting. But wait… she spotted a member of the scholarship's committee! They weren't supposed to be here! I didn't even know they were here! How did I not see them? They were so young. Crap. I just needed to calm down and get over there and not make a complete ass of myself. I also should breathe.

I got up from the table, and looked down at my phone to check the time. I bumped right into this massive blonde guy. He was tall and very muscular for a seventeen to eighteen year old boy.

I looked up and said, "I am so sorry. I was just—"

"Texting and not paying attention?" he asked.

"No," I smiled, "I wasn't—"

"That's probably not a good idea when you're in a room full scholarship committee folks is it,…Mr. Duval," he said cutting me off as he bent down a little to look at my name tag. I just pulled that douche move earlier on a member. That's what it was: a douche move. But I think this guy, Thompson, really does that kind of stuff. This boy might be a douchebag. And who names their kid Thompson? Rich, bastards who want their kids to have 'strong' first names, that's who.

"So, Mr. Duval," he said, as he placed a hand on my shoulder. "What brings you here?"

"…I was invited like you…" I said, slowly.

"Yes," he said, "it was a very difficult road to becoming a genius, but here we are."

"..um, yeah…" I said, slowly. "I'm gonna go—"

"You probably are wondering what a guy like me was doing at this nerd fest, right?" he asked.

"No, not really," I said. Why was everyone saying this was for nerds? This was just for students who were well aware of their college careers as soon as they entered high school and were determined to make it. If being well-prepared made me a nerd, then bring on the pocket protectors.

"Well, Nick, my family…" he said. I tuned him out and just stared at him. Why was he still talking to me? I looked up at his face and he wasn't really looking at me while he was talking either. He had perfect facial features too! He had the 'superman chin,' the dimples, and the perfect smile. Jesus Christ, this is messed up. I have to walk away. I looked over and saw an older gentleman with glasses and started to head in his direction.

"Oh wait," Thompson said. "Are you about to go see good old, Mr. Vilisman?"

I gave him a shocked look. 'Vilis' means to be rude, worthless or cheap in Latin, I think. So that man's name could literally be translated to 'mean man.' Was he being rude, or did he know him?

"Yeah, that's really his name," he said. "It's weird. I think it means something awful in Latin, but it is what it is. I just talked to him. He's good friends with the members on the Brown alumni association."

"Really?" I asked, fascinated for once in the conversation.

"Yeah," Thompson said. He started to smile. "He told me this story his friend told him. His friend interviewed this guy the other week. His friend said the guy's grades were perfect, but he looked awful. He said his clothes were completely wrinkled. He had on a blazer and that was even wrinkled! Can you believe that? How do you make a blazer look that bad?" He stopped and laughed. "So, anyway, they start talking and the guy knows barely anything about Brown. The guy doesn't even know what he wants to do with his life, but he wants to go to Brown! His friend said it was the worst interview he had all month." He laughed again.

That story sounded all too familiar, but Mr. Vilisman's friend could have traveled to a lot of private schools in the last few weeks. He might not have been talking about me, but I had to make sure. I took a deep breath. I gave a forced laugh. "So do you know what school that guy went to?"

"I think he was from Dalton," he said, confirming my fear. "You go there so you might know him. I doubt he's here but that really sucks, doesn't it? It's hilarious too. That boy really doesn't stand a chance at getting into Brown or anywhere. He's even undecided about his major! I mean I know at Brown you just take class toward some general idea of what you want, but still! And to make matters even worse for the kid when it was over, his backpack broke as he was leaving!" He laughed really loudly. It was me. That boy that he was cracking a laugh at was me. I had to walk away. I had to get out of there. For some reason, I was having trouble breathing and I thought I was going vomit all of the nothing I ate today.

"Excuse me," I managed to get out before dashing to the restroom. I ripped off my tie and threw in the sink, and locked the door.

I couldn't believe had actually become his cheap joke! Damn it! I was the only student there from Dalton! Once that jerk figured that out, he'd go blabbing to the other students here about it. They'd probably go flocking to Mr. Vilis to get the whole story about the 'Dalton boy,' then they'd come to me laughing and asking if I knew who it was. I couldn't tell them it was me. What if they all figured out that it was me? I slid down onto the floor and put my head in my hands. Shit, I had completely forgotten about that incident when I walked in there. My breathing got worse. I think I was having a panic attack. I thought about the X-Acto knife that I had stolen from Jeff earlier in the week. I shouldn't have taken it. I just thought that I might have needed it for this get together, and I did. I really did. I was a mess. I was. I was sitting on a bathroom floor struggling to breathe. I knew that I just needed to calm down in the fastest way possible. I unpinned my name tag and threw it across the floor. That was it. That pin could save me. I reached over and grabbed the pin. I untucked my shirt and shoved the pin into my side as hard as could, and I dragged it across my hip. I had no idea a safety pin could do that for me. I felt a horrible stinging from side. I didn't expect it to do anything like that. I sat for a moment in the floor until I heard a knock on the door.

Oh my God! I can't get caught like this. "Just a second," I yelled. There had to be something in this uni-sex bathroom. I opened the cabinet quickly in search of band-aids. I had to admit that the pads were looking pretty helpful right about then, but I wasn't about to stick one to my side. I pushed those aside and found some small band-aids, and I carefully placed one on my side. I felt…so at peace, I guess. I wasn't tense anymore at all, and I could breathe. I tucked my shirt back into my pants, and fixed my tie. I looked in the mirror and smiled. Everything was in order, so I could go back out there. Of course, I couldn't face the alumni or the committee members, but at least I could drive back contently. I opened the door and headed out. I was stopped by a worried Nora?

"What have you been up to, Mister?" she asked me.

"What do you mean?" I asked. "Were you the one knocking on the door?

"Yes, I saw you just now!" she said. "You were talking to that douchebag Thompson, and then, you ran into the bathroom looking like you were about to freak out or puke. Are you okay?"

I was glad that I wasn't the only person who thought he was douche. "I'm fine. I didn't vomit," I said. Why was she even worried about me?

"I'm glad, but why did you come out looking so much better like you had thrown up?" she asked. She gasped. "You went in there and snorted some coke didn't you?"

"No!" I said in a hurried whisper. "Keep your voice down. Do you want to get us both disqualified or something?"

"You had to have done some type of drug," she concluded. "You run in there looking all pale and sick. Then, you walk out looking more confident than ever. I don't get it."

"There's nothing for you to get," I told her.

"Well then why is there blood on your shirt?" she asked.

"What?" I yelled and looked down at my side.

"The blood right above your waistband…" she asked.

"Oh, I didn't even notice that," I said. Stupid, worthless Band-Aid brand. I needed to think of something quick! I thought I didn't cut deep enough for that to happen. It was just a safety pin! "It must be something I spilled on myself. How long has it been there? I hope it wasn't there when I was talking to the benefactors." I added a laugh to try and soften the mood and make my story seem convincing.

"You're lying to me," she said. Did she really see through my bullshit, or was she bluffing? "The spot on your shirt started growing when we started talking."

Well, I couldn't cover that up. I loved watching the blood leak out of me quickly, but for once, I wished I wasn't such a 'good bleeder.' "Oh, yeah, wow. I must have run into something really hard," I said with a laugh.

"So you ran into something and you didn't even notice?" she asked, completely skeptical. "You should probably let someone take a look at it."

Fuck. Yes, of course, I felt it. It felt wonderful until then. At that moment, I was just kind of ashamed that someone had seen it, that she had seen it. "I should leave and go get it checked out or something…bye." I dashed out of the building feeling like a jerk for lying straight to her face like that. I had been faking all of my emotions all afternoon, but she saw straight through that. The blood leaking onto my shirt probably aided in that. Kurt was going to kill me for ruining this shirt. I couldn't believe that that was what I was thinking about after all of this. I couldn't fucking drive like that. I could open the cut more and just lie in the truck and breathe. I needed to relax before I exploded. My head was killing me. I got out to the parking lot and almost to the truck when I heard someone calling me.

"Nick!" Norashouted. "Wait!" I waited for her to catch up to me. "Boy, you sure do jog fast! Are you on the track team or something?"

"Actually, I am," I smiled. We both looked at each other for a moment then laughed.

"Are you really alright, Nick?" she asked, seriously.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," I said. Well, my injury would heal anyway.

"Do you have your phone on you?" she asked.

"Um yeah I do," I said as I pulled it out of my back pocket. She reached over and snatched it from my hands before I got a word out. She lifted the phone up, turned her head to the side, made a ridiculous face, and took a picture.

"There," she said, handing the phone back to me. "Now, you can look back on all this crap that happened today and smile."

She was definitely strange, but the picture did make me smile. "Thanks," I said. I genuinely meant it, too.

"Oh!" she said. She reached into her purse and grabbed a pen. "Give me your arm," she demanded and reached over and grabbed it. She pushed up the sleeve of shirt and began to write something.

"Sure, why not?" I said. "Yes, you can use my arm as paper. Thanks for asking."

"Oh, shut up," she said with a smile. "Look, I'm already done." I looked down at my arm and she had given me her number. "Save it in your phone, you know, so we can talk some time. It's nothing seriously romantic or anything. I just think you're an interesting kid, Nicholas Duval. Call me some time if you want to chat, okay?"

"I'll think about it," I said.

"You'll do it," she said confidently. "Even if you don't save it, you've already seen it and it's probably imprinted into your memory."

"Damn, my photographic memory," I said, jokingly.

She smiled. "See you 'round."

"See you," I said as I climbed into Jeff's SUV, and drove away leaving her standing there on the sidewalk waving good-bye.

I was surprised at how calm she made me feel. I wasn't in some sort of love at first site bullshit. She was just some person that briefly made me happy. At least, I think this was happiness. I wasn't sure. She made me relax. I didn't know random people or someone besides Jeff could make me feel that way. I guess this was why Kurt said I should talk to people more. But normally people tend to cause my problems and piss me off, but Nora didn't do that. She could be a good friend. The things was, though, she wouldn't be around 24/7 as a buffer for life for me, so I decided to stick with my usual buffer . I couldn't believe she thought I did drugs! I smiled at the thought. I guess in a way what I did do was kind of like a drug. It was addictive, dangerous, and I was definitely hurting myself. I think she actually liked me as person or worse. I think she wanted to be with me. I couldn't save her number. The best thing I could do for her was forget about her. She deserved someone better than me. I would be a waste of time for her. I sighed and headed to the drug store to stock up on supplies to aid me with my addiction.

Jeff's POV

When Warbler practice ended, I rushed out of the door and practically ran to the dorms. Nick and Bessie had been gone all afternoon! He didn't even text me when he got there or when he left or if everything went okay. I had no idea if he was on the way back or if he was already here. Did he wreck? No, Nick's an excellent driver he wouldn't wreck Bessie. Bessie was safe, and Nick was safe. Everything was okay, or at least that's what I told myself throughout dinner and practice when no one had any news of Nick.

"Slow down!" shouted David as he caught up to me. "Where are you going in such a hurry?"

"I'm headed back to the dorms," I told him.

"Why the rush? Are you excited to go to study hours?" he said.

"No, it's just that Nick hasn't called or texted me and told me he was back from the dinner , yet," I said, worried. "I texted him and he never texted me back. I'm just worried he might have crashed."

"You're being over dramatic," David said. "He probably just saw it and forgot to text you back. Stop worrying. Nick is fine. He didn't crash. You've got to stop worrying so much about him. Why do you worry so much?" he asked. "I know his mom died and his dad's not around, but why do you feel the need to be them?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Nick's doing a good job of taking care of himself," he said. "You act like his parents who are constantly worried about him and asking him all these things about school."

"Yeah, I know," I confessed. "You're right. It causes a few fights between us some days."

"Yeah, I hear them," he said.

"Oh, sorry," I said, embarrassed.

"Nick's literally a genius so, he has school under control," David offered. "I think he just needs you to be his friend and not his dad. Maybe then you two could argue less and go back to being the best friends you used to be. Maybe then there would be less bickering and more studying."

I laughed. "Whatever. Thanks though for the advice, David. Hopefully, now, you and Wes can concentrate on studying more," I said. I completely forgot that Wes moved out. "Sorry, I—"

"Yeah, well, Wes finally convinced Kurt to join the Warblers in French today," he said. "I'm pretty sure he used 'spending more time around Blaine' in there somewhere, but it worked. He's making Kurt audition tomorrow."

"What?' I said, surprised. "I didn't think Kurt would ever give in to Wes. Does he know what he's singing? "

"Nope, we'll just have to see and 'be amazing' as Wes put it," David said with a smile.

He looked so happy when anyone brought up Wes, but just now he looked sad again and tired. "What's up with you and Wes, anyway? You two have a fight?"

"No, not really," he said. "But yeah, Blaine wants to take Kurt somewhere special after he officially becomes a Warbler."

"That's nice," I said. "So, you and Wes are okay?"

"Yeah, we're just going through some things right now. It's complicated," he confessed.

"Oh, okay," I said. He looked like he really didn't want to talk about it so I left it alone. "So, is it a date type thing for Blaine and Kurt or a celebratory dinner? If it's a celebratory dinner, all of the warblers should be there. We could have a party!"

"I'm going to stop you right there, Jeff," he said. "Blaine said that he wants this to be a strictly him and Kurt thing. It's not 'like a date.' It is a date. It will be their first official date."

"Oh," I said. "They hadn't even had their first date yet! Wow."

"Yeah," David said, slowly. "Blaine said that he was looking to have private lunches since you rarely come to lunch, but this week you have been popping up every day."

"Is this some hint that they want me to stop having lunch with them?" I asked. "Nick thought the same thing so we asked and Kurt specifically said that they didn't mind. Maybe Blaine just wants some alone time to get it on with Kurt."

"You think Blaine wants to 'get it on with Kurt' in the middle of the cafeteria?" David asked.

"Well, no, I guess not," I said.

He laughed. "Yeah, exactly. He probably just wants to talk so he can get to know Kurt more. That's the whole point of dating right?"

"Yeah, you're right," I said with a sigh. "I guess I should make myself scarce around lunch time and just finish up my Art School applications."

"Yeah, that'd be nice for them," he said.

"But if one day, I'm not busy and I'm really hungry, I'm bustin' in there and eating with them whether they like it or not," I said, determined.

"Okay, Jeff," David smiled.

We were back at the dorms really soon, and my door was cracked.

"Nick?" I asked as I opened the door.

"Hey, I just got back halfway through Warbler practice," he said. "It took me a while to get back. I went to the drugstore to get a few things, and then, I got lost, but eventually I made it back."

"I texted you!" I shouted. He seemed so nonchalant about this whole thing. "I didn't know where you were. I was worried! Why didn't you text me back?"

"Jeff, calm down," he said, as he stood up. "My phone died. I had to wait for it to turn back on to get any messages. You probably texted me while it was dead so I'll get it soon. You know how these stupid Palms are."

"So, how did it go?" I asked. If he was okay, then fine. His phone died. He's good.

"Oh, it went pretty well compared to the last interview type thing I had," he said with a smile.

"Um, okay, so did you have fun? Did you hate it?" I asked. "Did you do Dalton proud?" I joked.

"It was a boring scholarship thing. The other kids were interesting, and the adults were adults," he said.

"Oh," I said. I didn't really know how to take that response.

"Do you think I'm a nerd?" he asked.

"What the hell?" I asked.

"Some of the kids called it a 'nerd fest' so I was wondering if met the qualifications of a nerd," he said in a scientific way.

"You are not a nerd, Nick," I said with a laugh. "You just know a lot of things that us normal kids could care less about."

"Jesus, I'm a nerd," he said. "That's your nice way of telling me that I'm at least border line nerd!"

I just laughed. "I don't think you are."

"Then, why are you laughing," he said with a laugh.

"The same reason you are: it was a stupid question," I said.

"Yeah, you're right," he said. He tossed me my keys and sat back down at his desk. "Oh and I checked the mail," Nick said.

I gave him a confused look. "Why did you check the mail? You don't normally check it 'cause…" I stopped. He doesn't like checking the mail because he never gets anything. Most kids here check the mail in hopes to get letters from their family or presents because some of us are far from home. Nick doesn't really have any of that so he doesn't like to check the mail. It just reminds him of the past. I, however, loved checking the mail! I have a pretty big family so they are always sending me artsy things. I usually kept my excitement about the mail to myself because I didn't want to seem like I was bragging about how much mail my family sent. My excitement was just genuine excitement, but I was still worried Nick might take it the wrong way. Even if he did understand that I was just happy about it and not being a jerk, he'd probably still be sad.

"I know you like to check the mail after Warbler practice to delay your studying. Since I had your keys, I checked it for you," he said.

"Oh," I said. "Thanks."

"You got a letter," he said. "I put it on your bed. It's from Columbia University."

He didn't sound too happy about all this. "Yeah, I, um, sent in some of my drawings to the Art school there."

He sighed. "Jeff, one of these days, you're going to have to start worrying about yourself and not me."

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"Oh come on," he said, with a laugh. "My dream school is Brown University located in Rhode Island, and you just happen to want to go to a school 3 hours away from me? You don't even like Columbia University!"

"I might have changed my mind…possibly," I said. I was a horrible liar.

"Please, I know you," he said. "Your dream school is School of the Art Institute of Chicago! That's where you belong Jeff. It's what you want, and Chicago would be a great city for you too. You love it there. So, go."

"How do you know that Columbia isn't just one of my back-ups?" I asked.

"Because nobody puts Columbia University as a back-up," he scoffed. "It's really hard to get into. It's not just some sucky school people go to as a last resort."

"Fine," I gave in. "You know you're taking this all pretty well, Nick. You're not mad at me for trying to go to a university close to you just to keep an eye on you?"

"Nope," he said. "I was mad at first that you kept it from me, but I would have been royally pissed off if you actually went through with it! Don't sacrifice your dreams for me. It's ridiculous. Do what you want. Besides we will still see each other."

"You'll be like a day away!" I shouted.

"I'll be like an hour away by plane," he laughed.

"But Bessie will want to see you too," I said.

"I'm sure she will live," Nick told me. "Just thanks for the gesture, but I'll be fine on my own. You really are like one of those protective fathers."

"Yep, I sure am," I said. "And you're like my teenage daughter."

He laughed. "What? That's hilarious. So is college like a representation of the boy you think will impregnate me?"

"Ha! Yes! That's perfect," I laughed. "Because I can't stop you from going to college, but I can keep a close eye on you and that 'boy'!"

"Well, Daddy, I think I'll be fine on my own," Nick said with a laugh.

"Okay," I said, as I hugged him. "Just use protection when needed!" I couldn't hold in my laughter anymore and neither could he.

We laughed loudly and talked about other things and we let the joke go even farther until there was a knock at the door. "Come in!" I shouted.

It was David. "Look guys, I get that you're all happy that Nick isn't getting pregnant or whatever you guys are shouting about, but it's study hours. I've been getting complaints about noise."

"Sorry," I said. "We'll be quieter."

"Yeah," said Nick. "I'm going to start on some of this work I missed today."

"Okay, thanks," David said as he shut the door.

Nick and I looked at each other and laughed again. I guessed Nick was doing just fine. He really didn't need me at all. He seemed to have everything under control. He was laughing and joking me like we used to. He was right though. I needed to start worrying about me and getting into my schools for now. The deadlines were so soon and I still wasn't done with all of my applications. I could work on them without any worry now. He was fine, more than fine from the looks of it. I just needed to let the past go, and look toward the future.

There was another knock on the door an hour later. "Come in!" Nick and I shouted.

Wes peaked his head through the door. "It's time!"

"For?" Nick asked.

"My cooking lesson," I said.

"Yup," Wes said, happily as he grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the room. I waved 'Bye' to Nick. He looked confused. I couldn't remember if I had told him about the cooking lessons or not, but I would later.

We got to the kitchen and Blaine was sitting at the table reading. "Why is Blaine here? Can he even cook?" I asked Wes.

"I'm right here, Jeff," Blaine said.

"Whatever," I said. "Why aren't you with Kurt?"

"He's studying," he said. "Plus, Wes asked me to be here because I know how to use the fire extinguisher."

"Wait are we setting things on fire?" I asked.

"No, you're just not very good in the kitchen..and.. I..," Wes said as he trailed off and looked away awkwardly. "Anyway, we are going to be making spaghetti!" he shouted.

"Oh okay," I said. "That sounds like a lot for one night."

"Yeah, well, we are going to be making a simple version with no meat," Wes said as he washed his hands. "How do you normally make ramen?" he asked as he gestured towards the sink.

I pushed my sleeves up and washed my hands with that fruity smelling soap. "I just put the ramen in the bowl fill it with water and throw it in the microwave."

"So, you never cook it over the stove?" Wes asked.

"Why would I do that?" I asked. I looked at Blaine. "You can do that?"

"Yes, you can do that!" Wes shouted. "I was going to say that cooking spaghetti is like cooking ramen."

He took out a bottle of Ragu sauce, a large spoon, and a pack of long noodles. He placed a pot on the stove and set up a strainer contraption in one side of the sink. It hooked onto the sink and the strainer sat in the middle. "Now, for spaghetti. fill the pot with water, let it boil, and then you put the noodles in the pot. Then, you will strain the noodles, place them back in the pot and put the sauce on them. Try it out."

"Like now?" I asked.

"Yes, this is all you will need," he said as he pointed to all the items he laid out. He took a seat at the table next to Blaine and watched.

"Okay cool," I said.

I filled the pot with water, put it back on the stove, and turned the gas. "Okay, how long will it take for it to boil?"

"Just a few minutes," Wes said. I stood there and stared at the pot. "You can come sit down. A watched pot never boils."

"Um, okay," I said as I took a seat across from them.

Blaine and Wes both brought books to this event. All I had was my phone so I pulled it out and play some games. I heard the pot boiling so I got up to check it. "Oh my gosh! It's boiling!" I shouted.

"Yes, now, what are you going to do?" Wes asked.

"Put the noodles in," I said. He nodded. I opened the pack of noodles and poured them into the pot. The noodles were so long that they came out of the pot. "Wes, the noodles don't fit in the pot. Is there a bigger one we could use?"

"No, you're going to have to pick up the noodles and break them in half," he said.

"Oh," I said as I picked up a few and broke them over the pot. "Like this?"

"Yeah, just like that," Wes said, nonchalantly staring at his book.

I sat back down and waited for them to boil in the water some. When I got up, Wes said, "Now, what are you going to do?"

"Strain the noodles," I said.

"Yup," Wes said with a smile. He was happy I got it right, and I was too.

I turned off the stove and picked up the pot. "So, I just pour the noodles into this strainer thingy?"

"Yup," Wes said with a laugh.

"Okay," I said.

I strained the noodles and waited for them to cool a bit. I picked up the strainer and poured them back into the pot. I poured the Ragu sauce into pot and used the spoon to stir everything together. "Is this it? Am I done?"

"Yup, that's it!" Wes yelled. "You passed class number 1!"

"Weird," I said. "I didn't know it could be this simple."

"Yeah, well, later I'll teach you how to make your sauce for your spaghetti, and how to cook meat properly," he said.

"Thanks," I said. "Are you and Blaine going to try some?"

"You know I'm not hungry, and since you didn't catch the kitchen on fire, my work here is done," Blaine said as he got up. "Good night, guys."

"Night, Blaine!" Wes waved.

"Night," I said, grumpily. "I bet he left so quickly because he didn't want to taste it."

Wes laughed. "I'll eat it. You can't mess up plain Spaghetti with pre-made sauce."

It ended up tasting pretty plain because I hadn't learned how to season things or cook meat yet, but I'd get there. We added salt, pepper, and even cheese to it to make it taste better. The cheese made it amazing. I thought about adding cheese to everything I made, but Wes said that I should only cover up my food with cheese as a last ditch effort or something. I didn't care either way. I was just happy I could make something besides ramen and sandwiches. I had a good night. My talk with Nick went well and I decided to follow David's advice and just stop worrying like a dad and just be there as a friend. The best part though was the late night cheesy spaghetti, though.

End Notes: A/N: Thanks for reading! Please review. Me=Tinker Bell, reviews=applause :)

Comments

You must be logged in to add a comment. Log in here.