Kurt Hummel was nervous. Strike that, Kurt Hummel was terrified. I gulped, and told myself to stop narrating, which was my go-to nervous habit. I was prepared. I had spent the entire weekend preparing my office and cleaning my classroom. Everything was perfectly organized. My lesson plans had been ready since this summer, and I was dressed to impress. I had decided to dress more casually than usual, to appear more approachable to the students, but I still had the utmost pride in my appearance today. I had interned, I had worked at summer programs, but I had never taught. I had no idea how I was going to go in front of those kids and act like I had any idea what I was doing. Hence, the unsettled feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I grabbed my bag and left the house, locking my door and heading down the stairs. I could hear the bustle of Blaine and Annabel underneath my feet, hurrying to start the day. I walked into the kitchen and saw that there was already coffee brewed, along with a sticky note that said: Have a nice first day, enjoy the coffee—B. It was almost pitiful how much this small gesture meant to me. I had roommates in college, of course but we had simply coexisted more than anything else. I ran upstairs to grab my favorite mug, and when I went back downstairs I was greeted by Annabel, all smiles and giggles. She was perched on top of the kitchen counter with a cup of milk in one hand and was munching on toast, with her father nowhere in sight. Annabel was wearing a bright pink skirt with bedazzled suspenders and a blue t-shirt, along with green tights and knee high orange socks. I guessed that she had dressed herself today.

“H’llo Mr. Hummel! I’m going to kindergarten today, only Daddy says it’s not a real garden. It’s like preschool but less naps, and I have a brand new lunchbox, and I picked it out, wanna see?” She chattered around bites of toast. She thrust out her blue lunchbox, with Lightening McQueen smiling out at me. “The tag said it was for boys, but Daddy said that colors are for everybody, so it’s okay that it’s blue. Because I like the Cars movie,” she grinned and leaned forward, whispering loudly, “Even if there isn’t singing.” She continued rambling on and swinging her legs as I fixed my coffee. I certainly wasn’t used to being around this much energy this early in the morning, but somehow I didn’t mind.

“Did you pick out your outfit today?” I asked. I knew it wasn’t any of my business, but my inner fashion guru was growling at the mismatched colors.

“Yes, Daddy said I could, but no tutus or capes. Which is silly, because how can I do anything without a cape? And, tutus are a necesily.” She said.

“I think you mean necessity, hun,” Blaine said as he walked up the stairs from his basement apartment, “And what did I tell you about sitting on the counters?” He reached forward and plucked her off of the counter.

If, after the revelation that Blaine was gay, I expected him to have even a minor awareness of fashion, I was sorely mistaken. He was wearing a bright blue suit, with a hot pink bowtie. I winced inwardly. It seemed that Annabel was not the only Anderson in need of a personal stylist.

“Thank you so much for the coffee.” I said, as I straightened my bag. “I’m going to head over to my classroom for a few last minute preparations. Good luck today, Annabel,” She skipped over to me and gave me a hug goodbye. It was a testament to how quickly she was growing on me that I didn’t wince at her sticky fingers brushing against my shirt. Blaine smiled at me, and I headed out the door.

It wasn’t that I was trying to be unsociable. In fact, I had made the effort to great Blaine every time I saw him in passing this weekend. However, there was still so much lingering awkwardness from the incident on Friday. I believed Blaine, and I knew Annabel was only curious, but the entire situation made me uncomfortable. I wasn’t sure how to move on past the initial misunderstanding, and I certainly wasn’t used to being around kids. I wanted Blaine and Annabel to like me, but I wasn’t sure just what the boundaries were yet. How do you go about befriending a single parent who just happens to share your kitchen?

I tried to push those thoughts out of my head as I walked across campus to the Arts Building. I felt the nerves flutter back, but I refused to let them consume me. The Arts Building was a huge, semicircle shaped building with glass windows all along the front. I noticed a small, black motorcycle parked haphazardly up against the walls. I walked around it, and inside. My office was right in the entryway, off of the lobby, but my class room was in the basement. I had a small room, much like the dance studios I was used to. There were mirrors along a wall so the kids could watch themselves, studio lights above, and the acoustics were terrible. It was perfect.

I had decided on simple ice-breaker games for the first day, since the classes were shorter than normal. I pulled out some normal sized acting boxes and set up the scenario for my favorite improv game, Park Bench. I knew the kids would love it, so now there was little to do but wait. I considered going to my office, but I didn’t want to seem stuffy. I had thirty or so minutes, so I headed to the teachers’ lounge.

I had yet to meet any of the other teachers besides Blaine and the yoga instructor, Halley, who had helped me clean out my office that weekend. So, I wasn’t sure what to expect. When I entered, the first thing I noticed was that Blaine wasn’t kidding—the teachers were all old people. There were three people in the room, and they each looked old enough to be my grandparents. They were sitting around a table in comfortable-looking chairs, sipping drinks and laughing about something. There were two women, who were practically draped over an older man’s lap, clinging to his every word.

“Well, you must be the new department head. I’m Noah Puckerman, but I go by Puck,” the man said, and offered out a wrinkled hand. I then met the other ladies, who turned out to be the secretary and an architectural design teacher. Puck seemed to be quite the charmer, and I had a hard time not laughing at the ladies’ ridiculous attempts for his attention. He was quick to inform me that the bike outside was his, although he insisted upon calling it a Crotch Rocket. He was officially the most adorably perverted old man I’d ever met, and I had a feeling that we would get along great. After a few minutes of small talk, I excused myself back to my classroom, where kids were starting to pile in.

I had five classes today, and my beginners’ class was first. They were tiny freshmen, all in brand new matching uniforms. It was actually hard to tell them apart, but I was sure I’d get the hang of it after a few weeks. They were all excited about Lake Vermont, excited about Theatre class, and extremely hyper. We settled into a circle, and did a quick introduction game to learn names. I tried my hardest to remember, but once again, the uniforms made them all blur together. There were a few kids that stuck out though, like the little girl that was so short she looked like she was seven, and the huge boy whose voice was deeper than mine (not like that’s saying much).

Everyone seemed to open up during Park Bench, which was exactly what I was expecting. Park Bench was the most uncomfortably amusing game, which was what made it so wonderful. Two people sit down at a park bench. They are complete strangers, and the object of the game is to make the other person so uncomfortable that they leave. Later on in the day, I would have to set strict boundaries for what was and wasn’t appropriate, but with the freshmen I let them go at it. Some of the kids said the funniest things, like the boy who asked the girl next to him if she would help him remove his tampon, or the girl who simply sat down and talked to herself in different voices sending the other kid running.

The rest of the day passed relatively uneventfully, with the one exception being lunch. I had almost forgotten that Blaine was my mentor. All new teachers got a mentor for the first trimester of school to help them adjust to teaching at Lake Vermont, and since I lived with Blaine, it had seemed fitting that he be my mentor. He came over to my room at noon with that cheesy grin on his face, all boyish charm.

“So, I’m heading to lunch. Want me to help you find the Dining Hall?” He asked. I was really glad he offered, because up to that point I had no idea how the lunch process worked. We headed across campus, closer to the main office buildings where I had first been interviewed. There was a large building with a marble staircase, and Blaine led me up the steps. When we entered, I gasped.

Up to this moment, I had known that Lake Vermont was a nice school. I had seen parts of the campus, and they were all immaculately groomed. But, that was nothing compared to the Dining Hall. There were chandeliers, and instead of the long tables at most high schools, there were dozens of small, circular tables. The tables were gorgeous, shining redwood, and they all circled around a great big fireplace in the center of the room. It wasn’t lit, but it still made the room feel cozier. The room was lined with huge, two story windows that looked out on the grounds.

“Wow,” I murmured.

“I know, it’s amazing right? I’ve been here two years and it’s still breath taking. Come on, food’s this way,” he led me to a room off of the main hall. It resembled a mall food court, with different stations lining the room and drinks in the middle. I headed to the salad bar and then followed Blaine out, back to the main room. “The teachers usually sit in this section,” he told me, “But, sometimes the kids will ask us to sit with them.”

We approached a table and sat, Blaine making introductions. I only caught a few names, but I grinned at the realization that Puck was there. He smiled, and ruffled Blaine’s hair, which was a feat considering the amount of gel that he used.

“Hey, Hobbit. I haven’t seen that little princess of yours in a while. When’re you gonna bring her to see me?” Puck asked. “Annabel used to come to visit every afternoon. I was going to teach her to drive my Crotch Rocket.”

“That, Noah, is exactly why Annabel hasn’t been to see you. She’s four. And, I specifically told you not to give her a ride.” Blaine said sternly.

“I told you I was going to show her! You said it was okay!” Puck protested, shoveling in French fries. Puck may have been in his late sixties, but he still seemed to have the appetite of a teenager.

“Yes, and you and I both know that showing her was all I agreed too. Now, calm down and finish your lunch, old man,” Blaine teased. It was nice, sitting around the small table. The teachers seemed to be welcoming, and I immediately felt at home. Puck and Blaine spent the entire time grumbling at each other, while a few ladies cooed over Puck. I commented every now and again, but mainly just reveled in the feeling of belonging.

“Kurt? Are you listening?” Blaine asked, as he got up to leave. “I said, we should probably head back over.”

“Sorry, I zoned out for a second.” I hurried along beside him, desperately trying to keep up. He sure walked fast for someone with such short legs!

“Only noon and you’re already tired? Well, just wait until the end of the day,” he laughed, “Anyway, Annabel and I are going to go out for ice cream today, to celebrate our first days. Want to come with? My treat,” I started to protest, and he winked, “Trust me, after dealing with the seniors; you’ll be begging me for comfort food.”