“Why today,” Blaine muttered to himself, shoving his things quickly into his bag. In the empty halls everything sounded louder, and when he slammed the locker door shut it was like a gunshot going off. He didn’t flinch, and hardly noticed, as he ran off down the hall. “Why couldn’t I be late to anything but this?”

When he reached the door he stood there, staring at the doorknob, debating whether or not he really wanted to stay. If he didn’t, Cooper was bound to find out, but if he was just late, then it would easily be brushed off. Taking a deep breath, he reached for the handle and as quietly as he could he opened the door.

“Mr. Anderson,” the professor said loudly, crossing her arms so that her pointy elbows jabbed out from her sides, “how kind of you to join us.”

Ears red, Blaine stepped inside, trying to close the door behind him. “I’m really sorry-”

“Yes, well you must realize that you can’t be late every day, Mr. Anderson,” she scolded, her beady eyes burning into him. She nodded to the back of the class where an empty seat was, slightly apart from the others. He slumped and started off, ignoring the scowl that crossed her lips. “Maybe tomorrow you could try to come at the beginning of class, Mr. Anderson?”

“Of course,” Blaine muttered, slouching in his seat. Wes, a few seats up, turned as he passed, his eyes questioning and curious. Blaine shrugged him off, feeling tired. 

“Now, if Mr. Anderson is prepared to listen,” the professor sneered from the front. Blaine rolled his eyes and slid lower in his seat, tuning out the lesson seeing as there was hardly anything left to it. His mind was busy replaying the morning, searching through the past. Suddenly, Wes was right in front of him and he heard the professor call out something in her bitter voice that sounded like, “…if you could please catch him up on all the work he missed” before turning away.

“Where were you?” Wes hissed, glancing behind him before turning back and pretending to point something out in his textbook. “This is the third late this week, Blaine. And it’s Wednesday.”

“Helping Coop,” Blaine muttered tiredly. “Then I missed the bus and his car wouldn’t start so I had to walk.”

Wes rolled his eyes. “You need to pull yourself together.”

“That’s a tad dramatic,” Blaine mumbled.

“You’re going to get detention. Again.” 

“It’s not my fault,” Blaine sighed, looking down at the book as the professor shot him a nasty look. “They can give a detention to the bus and Coop’s car today.”

“Yeah, and to the lost keys yesterday and the sick brother Monday?” Wes huffed.

Blaine shrugged. “It would only be fair.”

“Attention class!” the professor yelled out from the front, the sourness gone from her tone. “This is…”

Blaine looked up and for a moment he was frozen-where the professor had been alone only a moment ago, she was now standing beside a younger boy, who fidgeted with the strap of his bag hanging off one of his shoulders. There was something in his looks and something in his eyes that made Blaine’s heart jump. “Kurt. Kurt Hummel,” the boy said, filling in where the professor forgot. He gave a weak smile and the woman nodded.

“He’s new to Dalton and I think it would be always excellent to show him our Warbler hospitality.”

The class muttered what would be considered an agreement and then went back to work and Kurt listened as the professor said something quietly to him. Blaine watched them, watched the way the boy moved and the way he smiled. When he turned back though, Wes was grinning at him.

“What?” Blaine asked, furrowing his brows.

Wes shook his head, suppressing laughter. Again, Blaine could only wonder what he was thinking when he whispered, as casually as Wes could manage, “It’s just that…you know…the new kid isn’t too hard on the eyes.”

Blaine shot him a confused look, and yet he could feel his cheeks burning slightly as he turned away from Wes, burying his head in the textbook before him. He could hear Wes trying not to burst into laughter as he scanned the words, not at all reading them, his mind distancing itself again when he heard his name from the front of the room. He tried to focus to hear what the words were and just caught the end of the professor’s sentence: “…next to our resident troublemaker in the back.”

“Troublemaker?” Blaine echoed, raising a brow.

“Hm?” Wes said, glancing behind him just as Kurt nodded and started off towards them. He spun around so quickly that loose papers fluttered to the ground and Blaine hastened to pick them up but Wes shooed him off with a cheeky grin.

Kurt took his seat in the desk just behind Blaine and started to put something in his bag. Wes kicked Blaine under the table and he let out a yelp, scaring both Kurt and himself. Kurt, who had been bent over, hit his head on the edge of the desk and rightened up, rubbing the back of his head. He looked over at Blaine, seeming to question him with his eyes and Blaine froze. Kurt watched him expectantly and it took a moment for him to find his voice before he managed to choke out, “Sorry, my friend just scared me.”

The other boy nodded. “It’s alright,” he said before beginning to return to what he was doing.

“I’m Blaine,” Blaine quickly added, and he cursed himself for how desperate it sounded.

Pausing, Kurt sat up again and looked him over, biting his lip. After what felt like several minutes filled with awkward silence, he shook his head again and looked at Blaine, their eyes meeting. “Listen, I know that its fun to make the new kid do something stupid, but I don’t need any trouble, troublemaker.”

There was another sharp pain in Blaine’s shin as Wes shot his foot into his friend’s leg. Blaine spun around and scowled at him before turning quickly back to Kurt. “I’m not a troublemaker,” he said.

“Yes, because you’re teacher just has a long and strong grudge against you?”

“That’s actually the case,” Wes piped.

“Oh really?” Kurt sighed, leaning back. “Explain?”

“Bad attendance is all it really is,” Wes answered again, leaning around Blaine. “I mean, he’s late almost every day so I don’t blame anyone for getting upset but it usually isn’t his fault.” He looked at Blaine with a smile that was gone as soon as Blaine’s leg swung back and kicked him in the shin. “I didn’t deserve that,” he muttered, rolling his eyes.

“Bad attendance?” Kurt asked, folding his arms. He looked more amused than anything now.

“Mostly my brother’s fault,” Blaine explained before Wes could, “Mostly during this class.”

“I can see the inconvenience in that then,” Kurt said, the corner of his mouth twitching as he tried to suppress a grin. Something about that made Blaine’s heart hammer in his chest. 

"Right, well it doesn't go over too well with anyone trying to teach, I guess," Blaine said, shrugging nonchalantly. Kurt actually laughed this time, and his face lit up in a smile. Blaine swallowed, his heart beating against his chest. He bit down on his lip, the corners of his mouth turned up. "They're fond of the whole show-up-to-class-on-time thing."

"But you aren't?" Kurt asked, raising a brow. "Maybe you are a troublemaker."

Blaine smiled, "I believe my grades aren't at troublemaker level, and I haven't said one snarky or rude thing this entire time, so I believe it would be safe to say that I'm more of a gentleman than a troublemaker."

"Sorry to have misjudged you then," Kurt said.

"Apology accepted," Blaine laughed. He smirked and extended his hand dramatically, presenting it to Kurt. "Blaine Anderson."

Kurt slipped his hand into Blaine's, his palm warm as it pressed against his own. His heart nearly leapt free of his chest, and although it was only a moment that their hands were together, the world seemed to go in slow motion. He swallowed again, his mouth feeling dry, and smiled at Kurt as their hands parted. His mind was foggy and he hardly registered when Kurt replied breathily, "Kurt Hummel."

There was another nudge under the table, something pressing momentarily into the back of his leg, but he ignored the attempt to get his attention from Wes. Kurt smiled at him, a genuine, soft smile, and Blaine couldn't help but smile goofily back.

Wes kicked him again, harder this time, and then huffed. Thinking quickly, he cleared his throat and said, "You know, this school is quite the scary place for someone who isn't familiar to it." Blaine glanced back at him, raising a brow in confusion and Wes rolled his eyes at him. "Very confusing on your own if you are new," he repeated, trying to make it obvious to Blaine. The poor boy still looked out of it, and Wes sighed. "Hey Blaine, you should show your new friend around."

Neither of them really seemed to understand what Wes was implying exactly but Blaine turned back to Kurt and smiled hopefully. "It would be an honour," he grinned.

Kurt laughed again, and Blaine wanted to capture the sound. It was so beautiful. How was it possible for a laugh to be so...perfect? His hand was just lying against the surface of the desk and Blaine had the sudden desire to scoop it up and hold it again, even if before it had only been a hand shake..."That'd be really helpful," Kurt said. "It's a pretty big school."

Blaine nodded. "Very big."

There was a loud chiming through the classroom and Blaine stared around in confusion. Wes patted Blaine on the shoulder, passing him his bag from where it laid on the ground. "That's the bell, kiddo," Wes said, grinning at him.

"I knew that," Blaine muttered, throwing the bag over his shoulder.

Kurt started towards the door but Blaine reached out quickly, stopping him before he could be thrown into the wave of people moving towards the halls. "I could show you to your next class-you know if you want," Blaine said, adding the last bit on quickly and cursing himself for the desperation again.

"Yeah, and maybe we could meet up at lunch?" Kurt suggested.

"Yeah, sure," Blaine said, his heart welling up with excitement. "I can tell you some more about the school."

"Right," Kurt laughed.

Blaine could hear Wes huff again behind him. "Only you, Anderson."

Before Blaine could ask Wes what he meant, or show Kurt out the door to his next class, he heard his name called from the front of the classroom. His head turned, and Blaine realized that the professor was waving him towards her. The three of them started to move in her direction, but again she stopped them. "The two of you can head off to your next classes," she said to Wes and Kurt. "Mr. Anderson may be a few minutes."

Blaine's giddy mood dropped and he stared at her, unsure of exactly what was to come. He nodded. "You guys head off," he said, throwing in a smile to show that he was alright. "I'll be right there. Wes, you can show Kurt around, right?"

Wes nodded. Before he was waved away again he whispered to Blaine, "Good luck."

"Take a seat please," the professor said, pouting absently to the classroom as though there was only one chair instead of thirty. 

Blaine pulled one of the plastic chairs so that it was facing her desk and sat down uncertainly. He played over the morning again in his mind, thinking through what exactly he did wrong. He'd gotten detentions before for being late, but those were simple notes passed to him before he was told to go off to the next class. Nothing good could come out of this. He shifted awkwardly, awaiting the sentence that was sure to come.

'You should've gone home, Blaine,' he thought to himself. 'You could've faked sick.'

"Is there something wrong?" Blaine asked, putting it in what he hoped was an innocent tone of voice. "Whatever it is, I promise I won't do it again and I'm really sor-"

"Don't make promises that you cannot keep, Mr. Anderson," she said angrily, her arms crossed over her chest. "You've been late not just every morning this week but constantly in my class and surely several other's throughout the year. Your behaviour is obviously taking its effect on not only your grades but as well your attitude it seems. I must insist that you solve whatever it is that is keeping you from arriving to classes on time before next week or the consequences will be doubled."

Blaine groaned inwardly. Doubled. That couldn't be good.

"Obviously, this has become a large issue and we can't just let this go by. You need to realize that you cannot just waltz into a class whenever you feel like it. I do not care if it does not work with your schedule or if it interferes with your hobbies," she spat out the words, and something about them, about the bitterness, made Blaine assume that she wasn't just taking about him, "this has got to stop. However, nobody else seems to manage a schedule and grade average quite like yours. Therefore, I'm sending you down to Principal Figgins, and he will speak with you there."

'This wasn't speaking to me?' Blaine thought miserably. He took the slip she handed him and threw on his bag. The second bell rang just as he slipped outside, heading in the direction of the main offices. 

'You still get to see Kurt at lunch,' Blaine thought to himself. That was an upside.

The halls were empty as he walked. Blaine may have gone to detention before, but he wasn't one to be sent down to the principal for his maintained lates. He'd hoped it would be a quick, angry comment from his professor before he could slip away but things would probably only get worse for him from there.

The office was small and had glass windows throughout. He could see the secretary typing away at her desk as he walked in through the main door marked MAIN OFFICE and she glanced up. "Yes?"

"Um...Blaine Anderson," he replied awkwardly, not really sure how this kind of thing worked. "Principal Figgins wanted to see me?"

The woman looked down at her computer. Blaine shifted uncomfortably as she typed something in noisily, her fingers working quickly over the keyboard. There was a silent pause where she peered down at the screen, nodding to herself. Her head kept bobbing when she looked up at Blaine and he realized that she was nodding to him. "You can go in," she said.

"Thanks," he mumbled and hurried into the next room. Principal Figgins was sitting at his desk, shifting through papers, and gestured for Blaine to sit down in the chair across from him. Feeling nervous and suddenly aware of the aching tiredness he felt that day, Blaine sat down. His eyes darted to the clock. Five minutes into the next class. 'Better not be marking me late,' he thought bitterly.

"Mr. Anderson," Figgins sighed, folding his hands onto his desk, "I'm sure you realize why you're here?"

Blaine nodded, smiling weakly. "Of course, sir, and I'm really very sorry. My professor spoke with me about why it was a problem and I understand completely."

Figgins bowed his head as though this was obvious. "Yes, well it's a reoccurring thing, you being late, and we have to show consequences come with bad decisions. I realize that you are one of our better students, however your grades are dropping lately and you seem to be missing even more of your school time. We want to improve this not just for us, but for your own personal needs." He said. Blaine smiled as though agreeing, but all he wanted was to take his punishment and leave. "We care, Blaine. We care for your future."

"Thank you, sir," Blaine said, smiling again. "I'll work towards canceling out my lates."

"And improving your grades," Figgins added. "You’re a smart kid, and that needs to be showing again."

"Of course, sir."

Principal Figgins reached out and scribbled something down on a slip of paper and then tore the sheet off from the notepad it was attached to. "Like I said, actions have consequences," Figgins said, passing Blaine the note. He didn't read it, but waited for him to say it himself. "And I hope that a month's detention is enough to make up the time you've lost skipping school."

Inside, Blaine felt anger bubble up. A month? Just for being late to school for the past...well the past year, really. Still, he thought that it seemed a little overdone. However, he didn't let this show on his face and didn't voice his opinion. Instead, Blaine folded the paper neatly and tucked it in his pocket and thanked Figgins before asking for an excuse slip for his next class. When Figgins handed it over he patted Blaine on the arm before shooing him away.

When he emerged the hallways were still pretty empty, and he really wasn't in the mood for going to his next class. Still, after that it probably wasn't smart to actually skip class. Sighing, he made his way to the next room and tried to go in without being noticed. Unfortunately, the professor was speaking as well this time. The note wasn't much help to simmer the glare that crossed his face. 

Blaine crossed to the last seat left in the very back, catching Wes' eye as he passed. He raised a brow in the silent question and Blaine just shrugged. Kurt was sitting behind him, too focussed on the lesson to catch the exchange. On accident, Blaine nudged Kurt's foot with his own as he walked by and Kurt smiled up at him before Blaine was banished to the back of the room for the rest of the period.

Lunch couldn't have taken longer to arrive. Blaine spent most of the class pretending to listen and watching Kurt from the corner of his eye. The sudden tiredness was still weighing heavily on him and his eyes fought from closing as his muscles seemed to sting. The bell seemed like it was ringing in his mind when it finally went off and Blaine nearly groaned out loud at the headache he could feel coming on. The day just seemed to get worse and worse. Well, except-

"What happened to my tour guide?" Kurt smiled, bouncing on the balls of his feet in front of Blaine's desk.

"Apparently he actually is a troublemaker," Blaine sighed, lifting his bag onto his shoulder. "Don't know how he didn't realize this but the school's dictator seems to disagree with my gentleman ways."

"I'm lost, are you the he or the me?" Wes asked.

"Hush, I'm tired," Blaine muttered, rubbing at his eyes. Kurt was watching him with concern, though, so Blaine straightened up with a grin and nodded in the general direction of the door-or at least he hoped it was the general direction. His head felt groggy. "We have a lunch meeting, don't we?"

Kurt laughed, but he still looked off. "You sure you're alright?"

"Perfect," Blaine replied. "I'll be just fine."

Kurt nodded, but neither him nor Wes seemed to believe him. Blaine was too tired to notice, though, and he started off towards the door.