Part Six – Age 15 – Kurt

Fall, Sophomore year

On Kurt's first day of sophomore year there was a new boy at school.  Kurt wouldn't normally notice except that the boy was everywhere, in half of Kurt's classes and in the hallways between them, a few steps in front of Kurt in the lunch line, standing at the front of the classroom in Glee after school, beaming with Mr. Shue's hand clasping his shoulder.

“Everybody, this is Blaine Anderson, and his Fab, Quinn.”  Mr. Shue nodded towards a gorgeous blonde girl tucked away in the corner, who offered a less-than-enthusiastic smile and a tiny wave.  Blaine, though, perked up, almost bouncing on the toes of his shoes.

“Hi, everyone.  I… umm, yeah, I'm Blaine.  I've transferred in this year from Dalton—I'm a sophomore—and I was in their Glee club, so I'm really excited to be a part of yours.”

Mr. Shue looked thrilled, but half the rest of the room seemed skeptical.  Rachel wore a half-grimace, Jesse, her Fab, was outright glaring, and even Finn looked a little wary.  “How about you sing for us?  Too soon?”

“Next class?” Blaine suggested, looking to Quinn, who nodded curtly.  “We'll do a duet.”

“We're all looking forward to it,” Mr. Shue told him.  “Please, take a seat.  Rachel, Jesse?  I believe you two had something prepared?”

Kurt groaned, and Mercedes—sitting beside him—grimaced.  Their eyes met in sympathy, Mercedes rolling hers dramatically.  She mouthed hell to the no, and Kurt nodded in agreement.

The rest of the meeting passed quickly, mostly full of Mr. Shue's standard this-is-going-to-be-our-year! pep talk, and Kurt spent most of it watching Blaine.  The boy was so many contradictions—quiet and loud, lively and restrained, blending in and set apart—and Kurt ached with how badly he wished to know him, to mean something, anything, in his life.  It was not an altogether foreign feeling for him, except that this time, there was hope.  Something in his gut told him that friendship with Blaine might be attainable, that Blaine might be different than so many others who had rejected him in the past.

He lingered after practice, shooing Mercedes away and making up some excuse so she'd leave without him, sending Finn a pointed look when he glanced at Kurt in confusion every few seconds while engaged in a conversation with Puck and Sam, both of whom played with him on the football team.  Blaine had stayed back too—chatting amiably with Mike and his Nat, Tina—and Kurt didn't even realize he was staring as the room emptied out until Mr. Shue called his name, asking if he needed him for something, and all Kurt could offer was a shake of his head and a shrug.

“I never realized Blaine was so fascinating,” an amused voice said from behind him, and he spun around to find Quinn standing there, watching him with an unreadable expression on her face.  “He gets boring after a while, I promise.”

Kurt felt heat rising to his face.  “Oh, I… I was waiting to talk to Tina.”

Quinn shrugged, and Kurt wondered if she believed him.  “Blaine's very friendly, you know.  If you want something from him, just ask.  He doesn't bite.”

Kurt opened his mouth to reply—with what he wasn't sure—when Quinn muttered “speak of the devil.”

“Hey, guys!” Blaine still looked overly cheerful as he approached them, immediately turning to Kurt and offering his hand.  “I'm Blaine,” he said as Kurt shook it.

“Yeah, I… I remember.”

Blaine merely raised an amused eyebrow at him.  “Oh… Kurt,” he supplied, remembering himself and abruptly dropping Blaine's hand.  What was it with his reaction to this guy, anyways?

“It's nice to meet you, Kurt,” Blaine said politely, ignoring Kurt's awkward fumbling.  “I see you met Quinn.”

“Yeah.  She's very… nice.  I… I have a Fab too.  Finn,” he said, gesturing to where the taller boy was watching them from across the room. 

“Really?” Blaine's face brightened impossibly.  “Well, then, we'll have to all go out together sometime, won't we Quinn?”

“Sure,” Quinn agreed dispassionately.

“Here, give me your phone.”  Blaine fished his cell out of his pocket and held it out for Kurt, who took it and handed over his own.  “I'll text you some time; we'll set something up.  Maybe with Mike and Tina?  They seem nice.”

Kurt nodded, entered his number mindlessly and they exchanged phones again.  “Great!” Blaine said, clapping a hand to his upper arm, and Kurt flinched.  Blaine's expression faltered, and he quickly removed his hand.  “I'll see you soon, then.”

“Great,” Kurt echoed, offering him a nervous but genuine smile, watching as he grabbed his shoulder bag and took Quinn's hand and then left the room.  “Good to meet you!” he called out after them too-late, mentally slapped himself as he did so.

“What was that about?” Finn asked, coming up behind him.  “Can we leave now?”

“Yeah,” Kurt agreed.  “Just making a new friend.”

Halfway through the building, Kurt took a risk and slid his hand into Finn's, feeling equal parts brave and foolhardy and desperate for some kind of connection.  Finn glanced at him in shock but didn't let go.  Of course he didn't.

His hand was warm and large, familiar, and Kurt thought about maybe trying to kiss him again later.  They had to figure it out sometime, right?

Why was being a teenager so damned confusing?

*******

To Kurt's surprise he received a text from Blaine the very next night, asking if he and Finn were free to get together Friday.  Kurt stared at his phone in shock for a moment before shaking it away, remembering about Friday night dinners and how angry his dad got that one time last year he wanted to skip.  He texted back Saturday?

Sure, that could work :-)   How about lunch?

Noon?  Breadstix?

Great, we'll see you there!

Kurt let his phone fall to the bed and breathed deeply until his pulse slowed to something resembling normal.

*******

The next day—Wednesday—Kurt had Glee again.  Blaine's eyes found his as he entered the room, and he smiled at Kurt, taking the seat beside him without asking permission.  Mercedes shot him a curious glance from where she was seated at his other side, but Kurt only shrugged.  Finn sat behind him, Quinn commandeering the back corner again while Tina and Mike sat together a few chairs over from her, Puck and Sam beside Finn, Rachel and Jesse front and center as usual, right next to where Artie had parked his wheelchair.  Santana and her Fab, Brittany, came slinking in late and took seats on the far side of the room.

The first order of the day was Blaine and Quinn's solo, and Kurt was stunned at how good they were, separately andtogether, singing Michael Buble's Lucky.  Blaine looked rather pleased with himself when Kurt's eyes followed him back to his seat, shooting him a little wink that made Kurt's heart flutter strangely in his chest.

After class Rachel and Jesse cornered Blaine and Quinn, probably for an interrogation, and Kurt didn't envy them one bit as he and Finn made their way out of the room, Blaine catching his eye and offering him a small smile.  Well, there was no reason Kurt needed to talk to Blaine, he reminded himself.  And they had plans for the weekend, anyways.

On Saturday Kurt fussed extra-long in front of the mirror—for some reason nothing looked quite right today, and he couldn't pinpoint why—and he and Finn were ten minutes late getting to the restaurant.  Kurt spent most of the car ride lecturing Finn on his poor grooming habits, so much so that he felt guilty by the time they arrived and reached over to give Finn's hand a small squeeze as they were directed to their table, receiving a weak smile in return that he knew meant he was forgiven.  Finn was used to Kurt's high-standards and his lectures by now, and sometimes it was good to have that familiarity, that acceptance, to depend on.

When they got to their seats it wasn't just Blaine and Quinn there—tables had been pushed together and extra chairs crammed in, and Tina and Mike, Rachel and Finn, Santana and Brittany were sitting there, all but the latter two engaged in conversation.  Santana was yelling at a waitress in what might have been Spanish, and Brittany was twisting some straw wrappers together to make little people.

“Kurt!” Blaine smiled warmly, interrupting the chatter as if to declare his arrival.  “So glad you guys came, I was worried there for a bit!”  He patted the seat next to him—empty, as well as the chair next to it—and Kurt couldn't help but smile back as he hurried to sit, greeting each of his other “friends” in turn as he did so.  Only Tina and Mike returned his greeting with any level of sincerity.

“Really, Kurt, you could try to be more punctual!  Jesse and I are getting hungry, and Blaine insisted we wait for you to order.”  Jesse nodded in agreement, and it took all the strength within Kurt not to scowl at them.

Rachel had had Jesse since Kurt met her—his first day of high school—and rumor had it that her dads had paid a pretty penny to purchase the most advanced level of musical aptitude and cutthroat ambition when they had him custom ordered.  Kurt often wondered if his creators hadn't compensated by making him a self-righteous asshat.

“It's alright, Kurt, we didn't mind the wait,” Tina said kindly.  Santana scoffed, yanking what looked suspiciously like a margarita from the frenzied-looking waitress when she hurried back to their table.

They placed their orders soon after, and the conversation turned to Sectionals—a dangerous subject, in Kurt's opinion.  Blaine seemed eager to fill the group in on his own accomplishments the previous year, Rachel encouraging him by asking very careful questions that Kurt knew really meant she was sizing up the competition.  It wasn't long before she was bragging about her own numerous accolades—and Jesse about his—which eventually pissed Santana off.  Mike and Tina looked embarrassed, Quinn amused.  Brittany, as usual, was lost in her own little world, and Finn was absorbed in the football game that was playing on the restaurant's big-screen TV.

Kurt winced internally as he took it all in, drained half of his ice tea, and threw himself to the lions.  “Well,” he cut Rachel off.  “I really think it's obvious we've got so much talent this year, Rachel, that we should probably focus on group numbers.  We could have smaller solos as part of the group songs, let everyone who wants one have a shot.  And Mike, you and Brittany could do something with your dancing; you're both so talented.”

Blaine was nodding as he spoke, and Tina perked up, beaming at Mike and squeezing his hand.  Santana smirked and said, “I did request extra flexibility!”

“That's… ridiculous, Kurt.  No one ever wins competitions with group numbers, you're just wasting everyone's talent, letting them think you've got no one special!  If we get three numbers, then it naturally comes down to a solo, a duet, and one group number, and we all know who they're going to go to…”

“Wait, you guys don't hold auditions?” Blaine asked.

“Of course we do,” Kurt told him, “Mr. Shue insists.”

“And this year, one of those numbers is going to me, so bring it on bitch-Berry!”

“Well, I never!” Rachel exclaimed.  Jesse leaned close to her, whispered something that sounded a lot like it's okay, babe, you know you're a star,and something about jealously.  “You're just bitter because you don't have half the talent…”

“Enough!” Kurt tried to intervene, though they paid him little mind.

“Yeah, guys,” Tina broke in.  “This isn't cool.  We all have unique voices, and we're all going to get a shot at solos this year.  You aren't the only one who wants one, Rachel, and Mike and I are a year ahead of you—we only have two years left!”

“Sam is a senior,” Mike pointed out.  “And so is Puck.  Maybe they should get a shot at a solo.”

“That sounds fair to me,” Kurt conceded.  “We'll just wait and see how it goes, then.  Fair and square.”

The others nodded—save for Rachel and Jesse, who still looked put-out—and soon after that their food arrived.  Tina began to complain about one of her teachers, everyone else following suit, and the remainder of the meal was slightly more tolerable.

As they made to leave, someone caught Kurt's elbow just outside the door.  “Hey,” Blaine said once he had Kurt's attention, “I'm sorry about that in there.”

Kurt offered him a smile.  “Yeah, it wasn't quite what I expected.”

“I thought it would be a nice way to get to know everybody, the other couples I mean,” Blaine shrugged.  “I had a lot of friends at my last school, but no one very close, and before that no one at all, really, save for Quinn.  I thought it would be a good idea to try a little harder.”

“I could have warned you,” Kurt said, “about Rachel and Jesse.  They're a little… intense.”

“That's one word.  But hey, you live and learn.  Maybe next time it could be just the four of us?  I don't know, Mike and Tina are alright, too.  And Brittany's kind of endearing.”

Kurt laughed and nodded.  “Once you get used to her, yes.  But then you have to put up with Santana.  Has… has Quinn been with you long?”

Blaine glanced to where she and Finn were chatting with Mike and Tina a little ways off.  “Since I was five,” he confessed.

Kurt gasped.  “Wow.  That's…”

“I know.  But it's great now.  We're really close.  That's kind of why I transferred; I was going to an all-boys school and I got sick of being without her.  That and, well, I was popular and all but nothing really felt real there, you know?  There's so much that's… false, in our world.”

Blaine's hazel eyes bored into his—deep, accepting—and Kurt felt it then, something tingle through him.  Like understanding.  Like connection.  “Yeah,” he breathed.  “I do, I… I know what that's like.  I've had Finn two years now, and I love him, I really do, and he loves me, but… it's not what I thought.  We're still working on it.”  He doesn't know why he's saying these things, things he's only ever told Mercedes and even then not in so many words.

“Relationships take time,” Blaine said with a knowing smile, “but I think… I think things tend to work out in the end.  It did for my parents, anyways.”

“Mine too,” Kurt said, wanting to elaborate, but it looked like Finn and Quinn were getting restless now—Mike and Tina had left—and this wasn't the time.  “So we'll do this again?”

“Yeah,” Blaine touched his arm the same way he had the day he'd introduced himself, but this time Kurt didn't move away, enjoying the warmth of his hand as Blaine squeezed a little, then finally let go.  “I'd like to be your friend, Kurt.”

“Yeah,” Kurt echoed, still caught in Blaine's eyes.  “I'd like that too.  But… we should get back to our Fabs.”

Blaine finally broke contact and looked over to them, chuckling at the awkward way they were standing, watching them, Finn leaning over slightly to say something to Quinn that Kurt couldn't hear.  “Probably.  I'll text you, alright?”

“Sure,” Kurt agreed, and then Blaine moved away, walking towards Quinn, and Kurt followed him, giving Finn his warmest smile.

*******

Mercedes came over that Sunday as always, bringing her tub of nail polish and a tin of homemade cookies.  It wasn't obvious at first that anything was wrong—not until her toenails were drying and they were both finished with Vogue and flipping through Glamour (Kurt) and Teen Vogue(Mercedes).

“So,” she said casually, and that was always a warning sign.  “I heard about the big Glee dinner yesterday.”

Kurt looked up to study her, hoping to glean some clue as to where this might be going because he could sense that it wasn't good, but her face was carefully blank.  “It wasn't that big,” he said.  “Just ten of us.  Who told you?”

“Tina mentioned it on the phone last night.  And ten of you is most of the Glee club, Kurt.  All the couples.”

Kurt shrugged and deliberately looked back down at his magazine.  “It was Blaine's idea.  I guess he just thought we'd have something in common?  I don't know.  I didn't know that many people would be there.  And I'm sure he intends to get to know all of you, ‘Cedes.”

Mercedes carefully turned a page, wriggling her toes in the air, still not looking at him.  “He seems awfully interested in getting to know you.”

“Yeah, well…” he was going to tell her why, but the truth was he didn't know why Blaine had taken such a liking to him.  It certainly wasn't a common occurrence.  “Rachel and Santana got into an argument about Sectionals solos,” he offered instead.

Mercedes finally did look up and rolled her eyes.  “Let me guess.  Rachel insisted she should have the solo, she and Jesse should get the duet…”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Them haters just don't know yet that those good parts are going to us this year, Boo,” Mercedes said confidently, making him feel a little better about her emotional state.  Then, “You should have filmed Santana on your camera.”

“Yeah, well—it wasn't that epic, to be honest.  We only argued for a bit and then ended up talking about school.”

Mercedes very carefully painted a second coating onto her big toe, eyes fixed on her work.  “And does Blaine like the new school?”

It was blunt, abrupt, and Kurt found himself staring at her, blinking slowly, imploring her to look at him, damnit!  Finally, she did.

“I don't know,” Kurt answered cautiously.  “He didn't really say.  We mostly talked about teachers, honestly, and he hasn't been around enough to relate much.  Mercedes, what is up with you?  Did I do something wrong?”

Mercedes sighed and put down her magazine.  “Blaine seems to really like you.”

“You already said that,” Kurt all but snapped.

“And you like him too.”

“Yes, I do.  So what's your point?  He… he wants to be my friend.  There's not exactly a lot of other kids lining up to be my friend.”

“I'm your friend.  It's always been the two of us.  No one… no one likes me, either.”

Kurt felt the tension drain out of his body, his heart drop in his chest.  “Mercedes,” he told her sincerely, reaching for her hand and looking her in the eye.  “You'll always be my best girl.  I promise.”

Mercedes smiled at him—her first real smile of the day; he could tell these things.  “Yeah, well… it's good for you to finally have another friend, I guess.  Besides Finn.  Just… try to include me sometimes?”

Kurt nodded his agreement.  And he meant it, he did.  Just… something told him the connection he felt with Blaine—it's new it's brand new Kurt what do you know yet you don't even understand what you're feeling it's just the way he smiles at you what does that mean it doesn't mean anything just quit while you're ahead—might be something bigger, something different than he'd shared with anyone before, even Mercedes, even Finn, and he kind of wanted to cradle it close, see how it would grow and keep it for only himself, at least for a little while.